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beababoobies · 10 months ago

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ME AGAIN!!! WITH A SAL X READER REQUEST (again) THIS TIME AIDJSJDH. a porn one at that !!!!

i need sal so bad its an actual problem

just like. imagine reader n the gang r havin a little sleepover. and reader is just so inconsolably turned on for some reason (maybe sal had his hand on their thigh when they watched a movie or smthin), so when everyone is asleep they asks sal to help them out :,,,) (his fingers r just so long n pretty,, they cant help but want them lol)

mayb he has to keep them quiet somehow, mayb covers their mouth/puts his fingers in their mouth to muffle them

hes so shy and nervous and awkward but he’s having the time of his life, watching the reader’s reactions. mayb he cant help but get himself off too, too enraptured by the way reader struggles to gasp and whine against his fingers

GOD DAMN.

would love if u wrote this mootie 🫶🏼🫶🏼 no pressure ofc ofc ofc !! (fem bodied reader pls if u dont mind <3!)

(i might write this too, i love my mind sometimes 🙏)

hey mootie!! Im giving you the fast pass because all the jjk stuff you repost got me into the series and I’m loving it, also cus you’re AMAZING! All characters are aged 20+ because this is based in chapter five of course, please do enjoy! :) (and for everyone waiting for their Hazbin requests to be filled - IT IS COMING! I am a busy woman.)

Needy - Sal Fisher X Fem!Reader

words : 2k, warnings : SPICAYYYY!!, creampie, fingering, slightly public, needy!sal AND needy!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys, c’mon), hold the moan trope

The entire gang had been having more sleepovers ever since Sal and Todd had found the new house. Larry was moving in so it was just the normal next step, and you loved coming over so much. More specifically to spend time with your boyfriend, but also just to feel like old times again. Even Ash came from the city every once and a while, and this was one of those days.

Since it was Larry’s last day living in the Apartments, you had all agreed to made the most out of that small basement apartment you had spent so much of your awkward teen years in. You had been doing all the same shit you used to all day - smoking in the treehouse, playing card games for hours.

You and Sal huddled up around his old gamebuddy, playing the games Larry had kept long forgotten in the corners of his room, Larry and Ash painting on a shared canvas, chatting about life while Larry’s old metal mixtapes blasted in the background, and Todd and Neil cuddled up on the beanbag in the corner, occasionally joining in their conversation, but mostly just cuddled up and enjoying each others company. All of this was wonderful, nostalgic - even healing.

That was all up until Sal quietly suggested you all watched an old horror movie, and you were all huddled together in the dark, you with Sal leaning on your shoulder on your right, and Ash on your left, giggling and nudging you like old times. Larry laid out casually on the floor in front of you all because of how shit his eyes were from years of refusing glasses. Which should’ve been fine.

In fact - it was fine. Until Sal decided it would be a wonderful idea to put his hand on your thigh. Your bare thigh, just below where your miniskirt started. And even that - even that, you could’ve survived with some unwanted heat in your panties. But no, the blue fucker jumped at one of the scenes, hand sliding up the inside of your thigh to accidentally drag your skirt up, his hand knocking against your warm core - hand rubbing up against your clothed clit as he pulled his hand away, and all you could do was pull your hand away from where it was sweetly brushing through Ashley’s hair like you used to do, straight to your face to hide the unbelievably needy whine you would’ve let out.

“you okay?” Ashley whispers softly, looking over to you and you just nod quickly, watching her go back to watching the movie before shooting Sal a venomous glance, which he avoids nervously, already feeling your stare of death shoot through the side of his head. You pierced your lips together, putting one leg over the other and squeezing your thighs firmly shut, Sal’s hand now comfortably resting much, much lower on your thigh. Practically on your calve, as he preferred not to die tonight.

But that’s when it started, the unwanted slick already gently collecting in your panties, your mind running through all the things you wanted to do to him - what you wanted him to do to you. God, your mind was like a dog in heat. You couldn’t even bear to focus on the movie, sitting there, cautiously eyeing up your dead silent boyfriend. His shirt ridden up his stomach just oh-so-slightly from the way he was slouched back, soft happy trail of blue peeking out from under his shirt. God, what you would do to pull those stupid red torn up jeans down - not even fully - and ride him until he was shooting blanks and sobbing under you.

That is how it went on for the rest of the movie. That is exactly how it went on when you all decided the sleeping plan. That is where your mind still was when you and Sal decided to take the pullout couch, Todd and Neil in Lisa’s old room, and Larry sleeping on his bed with Ashley on a cot on his floor. With the thinnest fucking walls known to man kind. You should know - you grew up with the same ones.

Sal yawned as he laid next to you, mask placed softly on the table right beside the couch, as well as his glass eye floating in a cup, looking at you nervously as he pulled the covers up over himself too, gently wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him from behind, expecting you to be asleep by now - you were a heavy sleeper, he was an insomniac. It worked out like that. Until he heard a soft, half-whine of a whisper come from you.

“S-sal..” you mumbled softly, pressing yourself back against him, causing him to let out a soft whine of his own, hand around your waist flinching ever so softly. “P-please baby, need you so bad..” you mumbled out softly, turning around to face him, seeing the needy tears in your eyes had him melting as well, piercing his lips together as he grips softly at your side.

“N-no, you know how thin these walls are - I’m sorry about earlier, but..” he says nervously as he watches you whine and writhe softly, pressing yourself up against him, one hand on his chest. That’s when you decide to make the move, grabbing his hand and moving to in-between your legs so he can feel how absolutely soaked through your panties are, causing him to experimentally run his fingers over them, biting down on his scarred lip so hard he’s concerned it might bleed. You can’t help a choked whine and a buck of your hips against his hand at that, looking up at him with those needy eyes. Fuck.

He doesn’t say a word as he puts two shaky fingers to your lips, and you wrap your mouth around them without question, twirling your tongue around them and sucking on them like your life depended on it, all while he shakily pulled you panties to the side, prodding his fingers at your soaked hole, a quiet ‘fuck.’ Escaping his mouth when he slides one in with ease, feeling the vibrations around his fingers as you whine. “G-gotta be quiet, please - we h have to be quiet..” he mumbles out messily as he feels his cock throb to life in his sleep shorts, smearing precum across his thigh when he feels your cunt clench needily around his fingers.

He lets out a sigh of relief when you quickly nod at him, squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly starts to curl his long fingers inside of you, the obscene squealing noise making him whimper softly, hips accidentally bucking softly against your thigh as his cock tries to find some sort of friction - daydreaming about how easily he could slip inside you right now with how wet you are - how you would feel around his cock, velvety walks clenching around him and providing him that oh so delicious friction he was searching for.

His thumb moves to gently circle your clit as you start to find a slow grinding rhythm against his hand, practically riding his fingers as he finds that delicious spongy spot on your walls and pushes his fingers up against it, causing your cunt to give another urgent and needy clench, more slick falling into his palm, making a mess as he tries his best not to whine himself.

The slippery sounds of friction, the feeling of your thigh twitching pressed up right against his own throbbing problem, or the way his fingertips are pressing up against the entrance to your throat, the way his other fingertips are pressed up against your velvety walls. It’s driving him beyond insane, to the point he’s thinking he might cum in his sleep shorts if it continues this way. And he didn’t bring an extra pair - and it would just be a waste if he didn’t cum inside of you - not while you were practically begging for it.

“B-baby.” He whines out, catching your attention for a second, tears of pleasure falling softly down your face as your hips still, whining against his hand from the way you stopped while being so close - it was beyond downright embarrassing how quickly you were about to cum, and you were honestly glad he stopped you. “C-can i please put it in? J-just the tip, please baby, ‘s so sensitive. Need you so bad.” He whines quietly and softly, pressing his hard on against your thigh to back up his own statement, whining softly again. “Just wann’ cum inside you, please…” he whispers, watching you nod eagerly.

Pulling his fingers out of you with an obscenely wet pop, pulling your soaked panties to the side and he lets out an erotic sigh pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he pulled his shorts down, cock slapping to attention against his abdomen, precum beading from the sensitive tip as he shakily pulled your hips up, grabbing the base of his cock and gently rubbing it against your entrance, and you could hear how wet you were when he moved his tip to part your drenched lips and drag through them, whining into the crook of your neck as you grabbed his shoulders, brain fuzzy with the way his hot tip felt rubbing against your clit, sticky with your own slick.

He bit down hard on your shoulder as his tip popped past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance, desperately rutting against you, trying not to whine or let slip how good it felt to be inside you - the way your hot, heady slick insides felt like they were trying to pull him in deeper. His hand cupped your mouth quickly, stopping you from making a sound as he gently pushed himself further inside you, feeling you grip tightly at his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as he broke his promise, pushing his cock inside of you, inch by desperate inch, trying not to slam his entire cock into you at once - which was unbelievably hard, considering how wet you were, and how desperate he was - his tip prodded at your cervix, making you jerk forward, groaning against the palm of his hand.

He rutted into you desperately, not daring to thrust properly, letting everyone else hear how wet and desperate you were, or even worse, how even needier he was for you, the head of his cock bumping against your sweet spot, the only sound in the air being the quiet sounds of your muffled whines, and the quiet rustling of sheets as he ground into you, abdomen rubbing against your clit as he did so, bringing you to the edge so much faster than you ever expected, cunt clenching around him, the sign that you were about to cum. He just nodded into the nape of your neck, hips refusing to stop.

“m-me too, fuck, me too, me too ‘m gonna cum, ‘s too tight, ‘s so warm.” He half whines, half whispers right into your neck as he detaches his teeth from your shoulder for a second, before hurriedly latching them back onto your neck as you feel his cock violently twitch inside you, whining desperately into his hand as you felt yourself start to cum, cunt clenching around him desperately, slick flooding from you and creating an obscene squelching between you two as you spasmed and arched under him.

He groaned into your neck as he quickly pulled his face from your neck, smashing his lips desperately against yours, muffling his own groans as he pushes himself as deep into you as he can go, cumming hot ropes into you as he stills, thighs twitching as he pulls his mouth from you, both of you panting and catching your breaths, feeling the warm liquid pool out of you and spill onto Sal’s abdomen as he lets out a small and raspy chuckle, still catching his breath.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me.”

#sal fisher #sally face #sally face x reader #larry johnson #sal fisher x reader #sally fisher #ashley campbell #todd morrison #neil sally face #sal fisher smut #sal fisher x reader smut #JESUS CHRIST!!! WOW!! MY FIRST SMUT!!

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f1boistrash · 6 months ago

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i have a name | l.s

a/n: so this is an idea i had after the miami gp and its been stuck in my head so im finally writing it. there is some slight jos slander and reader is max's sister

summary: y/n verstappen drives for f1 academy. they find comfort in a certain american when the media gets too much

Your whole life you've always been Max's sister. You didn't hate your brother for it because it wasn't his fault. You hated the world for being so small minded. You hated your dad for not caring. His words stuck in your head like a broken record. 'You're overreacting Y/N. It's not a big deal. You need to grow up.'

But it was a big deal because why couldn't they be bothered to learn your name. Your accomplishments throughout your career always amounted to 'Max's sister' it was never 'Y/N Verstappen'. You were sure if they could your trophies would say that too.

Going into the F1 Academy you thought it'd be different. You were excited when you got the call. The first person you told was Max and he was even more excited than you, if that was even possible. You were at the forefront of the series, watching young girls across the world become interested in the sport you loved. Something you wished you had growing up.

The driving was great. The team was great. Everything was great except the media. Its the one thing you dreaded stepping into the spotlight more. You tried to develop a thick skin like your brother but it was difficult when you constantly got picked at.

"So, Y/N, great day today. You qualified third. How was it?" The interviewer asked.

"Yeah it was great. Obviously we'd prefer P1 but we're still happy with the result and looking forward to pushing it even more tomorrow." You replied, grinning at your result. It might not be front of the grid but you were still proud.

"Your brother Max had a phenomenal season last year. Can we expect the same this year?" And there it was. Your first interview of the weekend and it only took one question before they asked you about your brother. Normally you didn't mind talking about Max's accomplishments. You were so unbelievably proud of him. It's when they start talking about him when they should be asking you about your race and your season that you get annoyed.

You plastered on your fake smile, hoping no one saw the disappointment flash across your face. "It's hard to say what this year will bring but what I do know is that Max will give it his everything. Whatever happens though I'm still proud of him."

Before anymore questions about Max could be asked your manager made a sign that time was up. You thanked the interviewer and left the media pen. She gave you a run down of tomorrows schedule as you were now finished for the day. Your manager didn't need to ask if you were okay because she knew you weren't. Working with you for a few years meant she had learnt all your tells.

You thanked her for today before parting ways, leaving you alone. The night air was brisk but welcoming. You shut your eyes and sighed enjoying the silence. You were supposed to be meeting Max tonight yet you couldn't bring yourself to move. Not wanting to face him just yet.

It was late and you weren't expecting many people left at the grid. Especially the F1 drivers which was why you jumped when a voice broke the silence. "Y/N right?" Logan said, your stomach fluttered when you looked at him. You have never really spoken to Logan before, only seeing him in passing but you always thought he was cute. He also called you by your name and not 'Max's sister' which was a welcomed surprise, used to his friends calling you that. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine, just wasn't expecting anyone to be left at the track." You told him. You took in his appearance under the setting sun. He was in his Williams uniform, his hair slightly tousled from wearing his hat all day.

"Yeah, I was just heading out. Had to do a few tweaks before tomorrow. What are you doing here late?" He asked.

"Media." You grimaced. Logan laughed, understanding your reaction.

"That bad huh?"

"Yep." You nodded. "Talked about Max the whole time."

The two of slowly started walking towards the car you have rented this weekend. It was one of the few left in the parking lot. "Seriously? That's so shit." Logan said, shaking his head. It wasn't out of pity though, more like anger.

"You get used to it." You shrugged.

"You shouldn't have to though." He told you, pulling you both to a stop. His eyes, looking at you intensely making you nervous. "You were incredible out there today and I'll definitely be watching tomorrow as you get your first podium of the season."

"Wait, you watched qualifying?" You asked, surprised.

"Don't tell my trainer though." Logan grinned, winking at you making you laugh. It was a sound he could get used to.

"Well thank you Logan. It means a lot." You thanked him, coming to a stop when you reached the drivers seat door.

"You have a name, Y/N. Your not just Max Verstappen's sister and I hope you know that." He said, earnestly.

You don't know what came over you but you found yourself leaning up, pressing a kiss on Logan's cheek. "Thank you."

-x-

"You're late." Was all Max said as you walked through your hotel room door. You kicked off your shoes, walking further into the room seeing your brother lying on your freshly made bed scrolling on his phone.

"Don't you have a sim race or something?" You asked, shoving his feet off your bed trying to change the subject because what else can you say? The reason you were late was the slight breakdown you had about the interview and then you bumped into Logan. You couldn't exactly tell Max that.

He playfully stuck his middle finger up at you, knowing you were making fun of him. "How was your day anyway? Excited for tomorrow?"

"Yeah it was good." You lied. You liked that Max was oblivious sometimes because it meant you didn't have to talk about what people said about you. However, you also hated his obliviousness because sometimes you wanted your brother to comfort you. "Hopefully people won't get sick of the Dutch national anthem." You grinned at Max who laughed loudly.

You asked Max about his day and he told you about how confident he was with this years car, excited to see what he can get out of it. He carried on talking as you got out of your team uniform and into some comfy clothes when he quietened down.

"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked when you exited the bathroom. "About what the interviewer said?"

"It's fine Max." You said, avoiding his gaze on you by putting your clothes away. You were afraid if you looked at him the dam would break.

"It's not fine, Y/N." He huffed, his voice raising out of anger. It wasn't aimed at you though, Max would never raise his voice at you. "It was so unprofessional. Not to mention the commentators today couldn't even be bothered to learn your name. I'm going to do something about it."

Max's reaction reminded you of Logan's. You didn't think anyone would care this much. Especially someone who you never really had a conversation with before. You knew it was pointless to ask Max to leave it alone so you didn't bother. "Just please don't do anything stupid."

"When have I ever done that?" Max asked and you laughed. You would run out of fingers if you counted all the times Max did something stupid.

It was getting late and you and Max said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Instead of the video on repeat in your head it was Logan's words. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it, going straight to instagram to find Logan's profile. You hit follow before going to his dms.

Y/N:

Thank you again for tonight.

His response was quick making your stomach flutter.

Logan:

You don't need to keep thanking me Y/N

Y/N:

I know

I enjoyed talking to you tonight

So thank you for your company 😊

Logan:

I enjoyed talking to you too 😊

I hope we can do it again some time

You were sure you were grinning like an idiot but you didn't care. You had fallen for the American and hard.

Y/N:

I would love to ☺️

Good luck for tomorrow Logan 💙

Logan:

Good luck Y/N 😊

#logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #f1 imagine #f1

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retiredteabag · 26 days ago

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An Uninformed Narrative

Synopsis: You had lived in Stardew Valley for a year before you met the hunter from the adventures guild, Sukuna Itadori. It did not take long for him to catch your attention but you couldn't help feeling as if his affection resided anywhere but you.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

This is a Sukuna stardew valley au, heavily inspired by @tearzintheclub's similar series with butcher!sukuna, I highly recommend reading their work, they are super kind and were a big motivation for me to make this!

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had been dying for a decade before coming to the valley, still, unmercifully, alive. The bitter years you spent milling away on a computer, endless days blurring onto the next. A monotonous cycle of tireless work for a corporation that left you unfulfilled, complacent, and depressed. Holed up in a city you did not even like.

It was corrosive, only now, a year later, could you look back and realize that life didn't begin for you until you moved to your grandfather's farm.

It had been hard work. You knew it would be. Still, the labor it took to keep up with crops and farm animals had been more than you anticipated. But you had friends now, and goals. And that was more valuable than anything.

One year ago, when you came to the valley, romance was quite possibly the last thing occupying your mind. Only now, being able to comfortably settle into your home, could you allow yourself to think about things other than the prosperity of your land and the health of your animals.

That brings us to now.

You had read books about the Stardew Valley mines back in the mountains north of town. Harvey, the village doctor, had warned you of its treacherous depths. Having focused most of your efforts on farm/house maintenance, you had not traversed into dangerous territory beyond upgrading your tools and acquiring bug meat.

This is why, after a whole year of living in the valley, you were surprised to receive a notice in your mailbox from "The Adventurers Guild", an initiation of sorts, requesting you to slay 10 slimes to be granted entry.

You had thought about it all evening. By the next morning, you felt up for the challenge. After taking care of the chores you left you made your way up past the carpenter's shop, dropped off a fish you caught the night before to your friend Linus, and entered the mines.

It had been scary but you protected yourself well and acquired some gems and geodes to show for it. It was late when you made the trek home, but you were determined to enter the adventurers guild the next day.

It had been a delight to meet Gil and Marlon, the two men who ran the guild. They sold weapons and protective gear, offered rewards for monster slaying, and purchased monster loot. Still having some on you, you traded them in for the cash. With a smile on your face, you decided to go into town to buy some icecream for Yuuji, Jas, and Vincent.

Penny, the town's teacher, had the kids in the museum for lessons until 2 PM, so you traveled quickly to meet them in time.

Penny was always a delight. Kind to everyone, even if they did not deserve it. She was so good with the kids as well, and dedicated much of her time to their education.

You had met Penny just a few days after moving to the town at the local flower shop in the Cidersap Forest. You had learned she was quite fond of Poppy flowers and the owner of the little place, Jin Itadori, was unbelievably generous, always interested in hearing about your farm, and always willing to give out a flower or two.

Yuuji, being the florist's son and Penny's student, became a quick friend of yours and always wanted to talk whenever you came by the shop. Of course, you never minded and listened intently whenever the boy felt like sharing a fun fact about the flora in his home.

Time passed with the changing of the seasons and it wasn't long before fall was upon you.

Ever since entering the mines and joining the Adventures guild, you have been thinking about the quests Marlon and Gil have sent you on. Though it is dangerous, scouring the mines for the flesh of monsters, it brings you a thrill to know you are doing something good for the community.

A post had gone up on the community board in town about collecting bat wings and bringing the population down to a manageable level the other day, and in your spare time, you had been working on completing the quest.

It was late one night when you began to make your way back up to the mountains from the mine's elevator, you had quite the collection and enough time to sell it at the Guild before making your way home.

"You've been keepin' busy." Marlon greeted you as the wind pushed the door open along with your arm.

You smile at the man, unloading the backpack of your finds. "Well there's always something to do around here." you reply.

"True as the day is long...." Gil rocked back and forth in his chair, pretending to hear your conversation.

"I must say I'm glad to have you 'round. The quest board in town seems to be worked through much faster now." Marlon takes the post you handed him and the 200 bat wings, he was just about to hand you the payment when the door to the Guild swung open.

The hinges seemed to rattle with the shock of the large man's blow of it. He's huffing, yanking a balaclava up and over his face.

He has thick, pink hair and bright red eyes, he's enormous, having to duck just a bit so as not to hit his head on the door frame.

You looked at him, a bit shocked at his garish entrance. He looks so familiar, but his face is covered in tattoos. A unique style you've never seen before, certainly not in Stardew Valley

Despite being at the counter yourself, the lumbering man strides right up next to you, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. And just then, you have a thought.

Was he doing town board requests too? He was clearly not from the village, you would have met him by now. But Marlon does not spare him much of a glace, even when a stack of bones and a collection of rings is placed on his counter.

"Those damn haunted skulls are somethin' else." The man looks at Marlon with a gaze of distaste but the Guild leader just laughs. The large man doesn't look at you once.

Despite the chill of fall present in the air, he has sweat glistening on his exposed neck, he runs a hand through his hair and you can't help but notice how handsome this man is. The only thing, who was he? And why was he monster hunting in the Valley's mines?

"You got a problem?" Shocked from your thoughts, you look up. You hadn't meant to stare but upon his antagonized question your eyes bulge a bit.

"No! No, no, sorry..." You turn away, collecting the gold Marlon left out for you, ready to turn and leave when the man behind the counter made a gesture with his hand.

He called your name, "This is Sukuna, likely haven't met em' have ya? He's real reserved and all."

So he lives here? How could that be? "Oh, it's nice to meet you!" You go to shake his hand but he just looks you up and down, effectively dissuading that desire.

"So you're the rookie taking all the board requests in town, hmm?" He looks so domineering, still, even having just met him, you can reasonably assume that's just what his face looks like.

You shuffle where you stand, "Er... maybe so, yes... I'm sorry, I didn't know that was your area..." You wave your hand to the array of loot he had seemingly just acquired. He scoffs.

Marlon looks to you, "Sukuna is our most tenured monster hunter-"

Gil interjects from his rocking chair, "If ever there's a board request this here man can't handle, I know hell's right about frozen over."

The man before them did not crack a smile. A shiver went down your spine.

"I see, well, I live on the farm behind the Cidersap Forest-"

He cuts you off, looking almost annoyed, "I know who you are."

Oh.

Okay...

"Gotcha, sorry, well... it was nice meeting you." Sukuna stares at you for a moment before turning back to the Adventurers Guild leaders.

The awkwardness of the moment was painful, you already know youll be obsessing over this first impression for the next month or so and your shaking leg is telling you it is time to escape the embaressment before this man shuts down any more small talk.

You wonder if perhaps Sukuna is upset with you for "taking his job". Or maybe he had a bad day. If he really had been hunting Haunted Skulls, he had probably been dangerously deep in the mines.

Even though his gaze had been piercing, his frown looked permanent, and his tattoos gave off a highly intimidating look. You could tell there had been no malice behind his demeanor. And that, would be a small comfort as you mulled your way through the darkness.

You spent the whole walk home thinking about the large man. You had been everywhere in Stardew Valley yet had never met him.

He must live out of town, you thought as you checked the weather for tomorrow.

Rain. That meant another day in the mines. You needed an upgrade on your equipment if you were going to continue supplying for your growing crops' demands. That meant plunging deeper into the depths of the mine.

Sleep pulled at you even still, just as your eyes fell shut the memory of the pink-haired man popped back up into your brain.

His shirt stuck nauseatingly to his toned chest, his neck glimmering in the firelight of the guild, and those eyes. The red, sharp eyes he had looked you up and down with.

"I know who you are."

It was a small town. Even if you were from the outskirts. It was a shame though... having not met the man before... he certainly seemed interesting.

You shook the man from your thoughts as your dog climbed into the bed and the two of you began to doze off.

Unknown to you, a long and unexpected day awaited you at dawn.

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a-collection-of-cool-ideas · 3 months ago

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Thank you wonderful fanfiction authors! You do a great part to make life wonderful. Recs below the cut (I CANNOT believe I haven't rec'ed some of these before!) Previous recs: 2018, 2020, 2022. Looks like I only do these every two years lol.

Gravity Falls

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; complete multichapter. A heartbreaking concept with a happy ending. Sad but wonderful and a really fun idea. Working out just what is happening is a great challenge, and watching the pieces fall into place with mounting consternation is awesome.

In Search of Antidotes, by @astriiformes / azhdarchidaen; complete multichapter. An awesome Historical AU, and neither Ford nor Stan go through the portal (there’s still suffering though). Bit of freakiness, bit of funniness, bit of stubbornness, bit of coolness. A very cool read! A much more classic demon-possession story than canon with its modern sci-fi overtones. The gothic sci-fi horror takes the floor here. Jekyll and Hyde, Frankenstein, Dracula, it takes inspiration from all the best roots!

Just a Game, by @nikxation / nikxation; one-shot. Intense! High stakes! Well-written! Doesn’t mess around getting to the point, and hammers its beats into you! LOVE it! Bill holds a gun on Ford, while in Ford's own body. The tension in this is unbelievable!

An Outreached Hand, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; incomplete multichapter. Something freakishly supernatural happened to Stan during his homeless days. It’s called Ghost Trick AU, and it’s super interesting and utterly engaging! It’ll have you tearing through it wanting to know what the heck is going on! The characters are all so intense in their own ways, and the plot is drip fed to you piece by delicious piece.

Snapshots from an Alternate Reality, by Rethira; one-shot. PORTAL STAN!! Just a short little one-shot about this alternate version of events, but incredibly cool to read. Love the writing style: it takes you through the scenes like a skipping stone, its wake mesmerising.

All Things Go, by @cantica10 / Cantica10; incomplete multichapter. A weird (in the best way) idea of a crossover between Timestuck AU (where Mabel is trapped in the past) and a Wings AU (where, you guessed it, everyone has wings). Adorable Stan and Mabel bonding, but is SO not afraid to get really dark. That being said, it’s also so sweet and fluffy, and explores the effortless love that Mabel feels for Stan, and that (broken, scared, young, sad) Stan feels for her. This is one of those fics I am compelled to keep coming back to. It’s such a full experience to read.

Snow and Pine, by @ancientstone / TheArchaeologist; incomplete series. A great concept!! Loved the idea of these two brothers being forced together by circumstances instead of intention. Some great selective description here, and the plot itself is a very fun ride. WERE. WOLF. STAN. Need I say more?

Lighthouse Keeper, by @impishnature / impish_nature; incomplete series. There’s a lot to this story; the main work is mostly a series of one-shots, with other works sprinkled between. The idea is so eerie and haunting, and the vibes are pretty different to most other things I’ve read. The instigating artwork by @sightkeeper is magnificent and Imp has managed to capture the images very well!

Triptych, by @scribefindegil / scribefindegil; one-shot. A very cool character study on Stan. Great for informing his central motivations. It's kept short and sweet, but the analysis is no less thorough for it. I loved the insight into my favourite character's life and mind. Scribe writes him so well.

Blind Faith, by pinesinthewoods; complete multichapter. Come on, how could I NOT mention this one? It's one of the many here I'm astonished not to have rec'ed earlier. Super dark, super scary, an AU where both Stan and Ford fall into the portal. Ouch, but cool. Really good, but be prepared to yell out loud in horror. This is a doozy, don’t expect a lot of happy feels going into it. That being said, it is INCREDIBLE. The structure of the story is fantastic, perfectly encapsulating the reliance each of the brothers’ needs to have on the other and how one has to step up when the other can’t. Stan and Ford are forcibly tied together in this, and they find they each mean more to the other than expected after ten years of bitterness and radio silence. A STAPLE of Gravity Falls fics.

Like They Were a Perfect Fit, by @sensitiveowl / hapful; one-shot. Aw, ow, cries. Love! Lots of tangled-up emotions and scenes that will tug at your heartstrings thinking about Ford’s life journey. Speculations on the importance of the photo that Ford is implied to have carried around with him for 30 damn years.

30 Seconds Later, by @invisibletinkerer / shayera; incomplete multichapter. Loved this to death! A really great concept executed fantastically. An AU where while it took Stan thirty years to rebuild the portal, Ford was only gone for thirty seconds. The characterisation of paranoid Ford and his interactions with the rest of his family are perfect, as is his reaction to finding himself in the future and his relationship to Stan. And Stan is wonderful in this too! A very good examination of age, aging, and the associated changes in perspective.

1 Step Forward, 20 Years Back, by @infriga / Ppleater; complete multichapter. An AU where Stan is turned into a kid in the midst of Ford’s pre-portal paranoia over Bill. It adopts the wonder and innocence that comes with youth, but still retains the darkness of Stan’s adulthood - wait, actually, his entire life has been kinda dark in this fic. This is one of those fics you can tell the author had a lot of fun with. It’s palpable in the chapter titles and the art :) The illustrations are beautiful, the story is heartfelt, and it is not at all afraid to go into some dark places. A very enjoyable, loveable, read!

The Road in Front of You, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; complete multichapter. Ford falls through a portal potty and gets dumped in Stan's path. MAN!!! This fic has a really great concept, and Nicnac’s writing is impeccable as always. A great look at Ford and Stan’s relationship post-high school, how their personalities have developed and changed, and most importantly how they reconcile the changes in each other.

Nothing a Little Sleep Can’t Fix, by AkitaFallow; one-shot. Oh MAN. WOW. Okay. A heavier look on the mark Sock Opera leaves on Dipper, featuring repercussions throughout the rest of Dipper’s summer. Absolutely, heartbreakingly, entrancing. The slow build up of the plot perfectly mimics the rising emotions that poor Dipper is struggling to keep a lid on until they inevitably explode, and watching the people who love him pick up his pieces afterwards is just golden.

Ad Infinitum, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; one-shot. My first read of the Same Coin Theory and it was awesooooooooome!!! There are so many repetitions of phrases that spark in my mind because of how great they were, and the aspects of Stan contrasted with Bill that thread through it are incredible. Kind of an unsettling concept. I couldn’t get enough. For a fic that’s all about cycling around, you'd think it'd get repetitive, but every paragraph is rich with novelty. A FEAST.

Some Sunny Day, by @anistarrose / anistarrose; complete multichapter. Another Same Coin Theory fic. The beats of the plot in this are stunning, with some truly awesome lines that left me reeling and thinking Oh SHIT that did NOT just happen!!! In the best way possible. A highly interesting story and some excellent takes on the Pines family and the world of Gravity Falls.

Towards the Sun, by @notthistimespock and pinesinthewoods; complete multichapter. EXTREME BROTHERLY FEELS. Incredible! Love the in-depth examination and speculation on Ford and Stan prefinale. A different ending for Weirdmageddon, following Ford’s journey through Stan’s mind. It gets sad, it gets scary, it gets freaky, you shed tears. Another one of those staple fics for the fandom. The story is a wild and heartrending adventure, full of imagery that stuck in my brain for years after the first time I read it.

Fisherman’s Knot, by @scribefindegil / scribefindegil; complete multichapter. MORE EXTREME BROTHERLY FEELS. Deals with postcanon adventures on the Stan’O’War II, including some reeeaaaally bad mental states/situations. Have tissues handy. I think this is generally regarded as the be-all-and-end-all of Stan twin angst. It is long, it is HEAVY, but it is also heartwarming and hopeful, and full of adventure and magic, and the kind of love it's made with really comes through.

Mob Boss Stan Pines, by Capricious_Passions; complete multichapter. A fic that you HAVE to read over again to get the complete picture. Complex and well-thought out, incredible attention to detail, but the first read will baffle you! A lot of fun trying to figure out what’s happening, and even more fun on the re-read picking up all the details you missed the first time!

Scrapbook, by Shyeye; complete multichapter. The complicated weight of grief hangs heavy over everyone in the story, and the difficulties in dealing with it are at the forefront of everyone’s minds. The depth each of these characters are written with is very much appreciated, not-so-pretty parts and all. This was a wonderful, touching, read.

Rescind, Reset, by @endae / endae; one-shot. Canon divergence where Mabel temporarily lost her life during Weirdmageddon, and the aftereffects on her and the rest of the family. It is one of the most beautiful things I’ve read, very emotionally raw. I cry every time. This incredible story is wrought with a filter of broken hearts being pieced back together as the characters live through the aftermath of their happy ending. It’s a shining, nuanced take on Mabel and how someone with her personality deals with the plot premise. I love the complexity of the emotions in this, not only from Mabel but also from the rest of the Pines as they work through their own traumas.

Safe as Houses, by @beastenraged / Beastrage; complete multichapter. If I could whistle I would! An entrancing read about the Pines family’s adventures from the perspective of their home. Some great and not too far-fetched ideas about how the Shack may have come across to its inhabitants over the years.

Greyscale, by @impishnature / impish_nature; one-shot. OH MY LORD. Incredibly touching and heartbreaking, I can’t look at this directly for fear of being emotionally blinded. Loss, and gain, and loss. Striking, powerful, so, so beautiful and painful. The aftermath of Weirdmageddon: another canon divergence where Stan lost his life. Except... Reverse Portal AU Stan stumbles across this sad dimension soon after. I swear, no fic has made me cry so hard and left me so much in shock of what the heck just happened to me. I love the look at how loss has affected the characters, and I especially love the path to recovery that is laid out for them.

Buying Gold, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; incomplete series. Veeeery intriguing. It’s not really Same Coin Theory, but it’s a great read about the similarities between Stan and Bill and some cool speculation on Stan post-defeating Bill.

Any Family You Choose, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; incomplete multichapter. So sweet! Portal Dipper finds a young Stan Pines and decides to help him out. This concept is so wonderful, and the characterisation is blindingly clear. Keeps you guessing at the backstory!

Across the Universe, by Queen_Mab; one-shot. SUCH a great set of adventures. The multiverse really tries to hammer in its lessons sometimes, whether they stand a chance of sticking or not. Extremely well-written and fun, I devoured every word ravenously. Some scenes of Ford's portal time, with some VERY interesting encounters.

Star Wars

Anything Brighter than Even the Sun, by @hamliet / Hamliet; complete multichapter. The Rogue One crew survives and continues rebelling, as does Galen! The main focus is on Jyn and Cassian's characters and relationship, and how they navigate growing into a family. I love Jyn's character especially in this, with all those hard edges guarding a deep, deep well of passion.

Chirality, by @niobiumao3 / Niobium; complete multichapter. A Tech was CX-2 fic! It's great to see this fan theory explored, and Niobium writes so well! The plot is entrancing and has you hooked on the edge of your seat waiting for all the pieces to fall into place for our poor brainwashed guy. The way CX-2 thinks and melds with the personality of who Tech once was is beautiful and his interactions with his family and Phee are a sight to behold.

Crash Landing by @returnofahsoka / delightwrites; complete multichapter. Another Tech is CX-2 fic, can you tell this idea has a hold of me. The characters' voices in this come through SO clearly, it's insane, and the writing style is perfection. Jumbled and pained and confused and grieving, all threaded through with that little bit of hope. Wonderful.

I'll Keep You Safe (You Keep Me Strong), by @miadeardn / sheikahs; oneshot. An AU where Crosshair's chip never activates and he is as embroiled in adjusting to being on the run with a new little sister as the rest of the Batch. Just a sweet little moment between the two. Both of them are written very in-character, and it's great seeing a side of Crosshair that never came to regard his brothers as his enemies.

Talking in Defence, by @buskuta / buskuta; oneshot. An awesome look at all of Hunter's complicated feelings regarding Omega and Crosshair's relationship post-Tantiss. He's not a paragon of perfection, he's human. I can't emphasise enough how much I love this and how well he's written here.

Unyielding, by Face_of_Poe; complete multichapter. The scene immediately post-reunion between Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker, with some speculation on Crosshair's internal strife at that moment. There's a chapter for each of the remaining Batch and Wrecker's is EXCEEDINGLY well-written in my opinion. We don't get nearly enough exploration in canon or fanon about the depth of his thoughts and feelings.

Plan 100, by Face_of_Poe; complete multichapter. An awesome canon-divergence speculating on Omega and Crosshair's escape from Tantiss. The action is great, the strategy and coded communication is so sharp, and the feeling of desperation as Omega and Crosshair fight to evade recapture is fantastically taut. I especially love the small moments in this showing just how close these two have grown, and, in Crosshair's case, how little he's realised it happening. It feels very true to their characters.

Through Darkness Unknown, by @stardustandash / StardustAndAsh; complete multichapter. Holy shit the stakes are so high in this. A Tech Lives canon divergence of Omega and Crosshair's stay in Tantiss, and you can really FEEL just how helpless they all are to Hemlock's control. I absolutely love how this fic does not pull its punches, really forcing Crosshair and Omega into relying heavily on each other. There's so many great scenes in this that are seared into my brain!!

Ask Yourself, by StoneSage; complete multichapter. Omega is captured by the Empire while Crosshair's still working for them. I freaking love the complicated messiness of Crosshair's response to this- he's constantly challenged to act on the callous persona he projects, and constantly comes up short realising what he's actually willing to do to his family when it comes down to it. Very true to his character, and the quandaries Rampart presents him with a subtly terrifying. A fantastic examination of character and a great plot to go with it.

The Space in Between, by Misvet; incomplete multichapter. A series of stories focusing on the complications and dangers involved with Omega joining the Bad Batch. The writing style is great, the plots are great, the characters are great! It's all great! Just read it!

Maybe Fate Has Different Plans, by hanged_albatross; complete series. God I love this so much. Some incredibly touching and well-written moments of the Bad Batch protecting each other in a dangerous galaxy, with Omega, of course, at the centre. She is characterised so well in this, and constantly written with the idea of despite being so young, she is also no less protective of her brothers than they are of her.

Modern Batch, by kaydear; incomplete series. DUUUUDES just read this. It's such a sweet collection of stories about an alternate universe of the Bad Batch in a contemporary setting. Life is tough and complicated and full of pain, but also there are others right beside you to lean on when you need it, and so life is also full of love. I have cried multiple times while reading and re-reading this.

Skulduggery Pleasant

I Will Lay Me Down, by mcginnis; oneshot. This is perfection. A rewrite of the aftermath of the Lord Vile reveal in Death Bringer. I wish this was canon. Valkyrie and Skulduggery are PERFECTLY characterised in this scene, and the nitty-gritty of how they're both feeling is thoroughly explored and explained, and the tone of the story never once diverges from canon's- it is complicated, dark, and interspersed with ridiculous levity.

Pride and Prejudice

A New Addition, by @ralkana / Ralkana; oneshot. A great fic about Elizabeth and Darcy and childbirth, various moments in this are imprinted in my mind permanently. High emotions all over the place, incredible tension and wonderful dynamics between the two main characters and the rest of the family.

Mr Bennet Travels Through Time, by AMarguerite; oneshot. A truly great fic with a wild concept that totally works. Mr Bennet is actually from the 1990s. Weird and funny, but also touching and sad, and goes leagues towards explaining a lot of this man's quirks and contradictions. I was fully invested in this all the way through reading, and it did not disappoint. Utterly satisfying.

Once Upon a Time

The Worst, by @alchemistc / alchemistique; oneshot. The real-life dynamics of these ridiculous fairytale people had me grinning ear to ear. The mortifying ordeal of your family of fictitious characters helping you move into your college dorm as told from Henry's perspective. Love it to death.

#fic rec #gravity falls #star wars #rogue one #the bad batch #skulduggery pleasant #pride and prejudice #once upon a time

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pascallftv · 11 months ago

Text

Girl Next Door— Part 6

Previous Part Series Masterlist

Summary: Your dad discovers you and Joel.

Word count: 5.1k

Content: Lots of swearing, arguments, threats

AN: The final part :’) thank you so so much for reading. Writing a series was a new experience for me and it makes my heart so happy to see you all enjoying my writing. Goodbye for now <3

The day finally came. A couple weeks from the first time you and Joel had sex, your father was home. It was easy to act normal when it was just you and your dad together. You could distract yourself from Joel when he wasn’t present. You filled your father in on all the things you’d done when he was gone, being sure to leave out the details of you and Joel’s intimacy.

Your bathroom was coming along amazing. Joel did an unbelievable job at turning your vision into reality. The dark green tiles and grout were exactly as you pictured, and the black and white checkered floor added the dimension to the room that you were searching for. Joel would be working on the finishing touches in the next few days. While you were excited to have your bathroom again, you felt gutted.

With Joel’s job finished, it would be impossible to see him as much as you wanted with your father home. Of course you could spend all the time you wanted together when your dad was gone, it still felt like a chapter was closing. The dynamic was so much different having your dad home. You and Joel were still just as infatuated with each other as ever, but it made things difficult when all you wanted to do was spend time with each other but couldn’t.

“I have an idea.” Your dad had said when he came home.

You were both sitting on the porch in the warm summer air. You’d been catching up on the past few weeks of each other’s lives. You hadn’t realized how much you missed your father. It sent a pang through your chest when you thought about the secrets you were hiding from him, but it was all you could do. You longed to be open to him about Joel, but you knew that was impossible to do without ruining everything.

“And what’s that?” You smiled, cocking your head to look at your father through your black sunglasses. The sun was extra bright that day, your skin hot under its rays. You felt like a baby chicken under a heat lamp.

“I was thinking we could have Joel over tonight. Drink some beers, celebrate him finishing up your bathroom.” He suggested, taking a swig of the beer he was already working on. He wasn’t an alcoholic by any means, but when he was home, he did enjoy drinking some cold beers while relaxing from his work.

Your stomach did a flip. You hadn’t really spent time with Joel in the last couple of days. You’d caught him a couple times when he was over to work on your bathroom, sneaking some kisses while you took your breaks. You felt like a couple of teenagers sneaking around like it was some sort of Romeo and Juliet love story. A forbidden love trope was a genre you enjoyed reading, but not something you wanted in your real life.

“I think that would be nice.” You smiled, tapping your fingers against the patio chair arm, looking off into the distance at the pond and field in the backyard. It was so peaceful, free spirited.

“Perfect. I’ll shoot him a text.” Your dad said, pulling his phone out and quickly typing a text to send to Joel.

You turned your head to look off towards Joel’s house, noticing his brown truck parked in his driveway, it appearing as more of a blob from this distance. Your mind flickered back to the night you first had sex, the steamy memories shooting immediately to your core. You cleared your throat and adjusted in your seat at the discomfort between your legs. Now was certainly not the time to be feeling like this.

“Y’alright, bear?” Your father asked, looking at you with a look of confusion.

“Oh I’m good, just fighting some swamp ass over here.” You lied with a chuckle. “Goddamn hot sun. You know how it goes.”

Your dad bellowed out a laugh, shaking his head and taking another drink of his beer. “Fuck, I know too much. God, when the sweat starts dripping down your back and then starts weaving through your ass hairs like a pinball��“

“Okay, Dad. That’s enough.” You laughed, standing up from your chair.

“I am going to take a shower.” You said, walking over to him and kissing him on the top of his head. “Holler for me if you need me.”

Your shower consisted of you fantasizing about Joel once again. It was probably unhealthy at how much that man consumed your every thought, but you couldn’t help it. What your brain couldn’t seem to shake off was the possibility of loving Joel. Sure, you’d only been close to him for a little over a month now, but you’ve never felt this way about someone before. Everything felt so incredibly natural and right with him. You craved his presence at all times, his touch and laugh being your two favorite things; two things that you’d grown accustomed to. Now that you weren’t together near as much, you were going through withdrawals.

You felt so weak. You knew you shouldn’t have depended so heavily on someone else to bring you happiness, but you couldn’t help it. He consumed you entirely and you couldn’t shake him.

The evening approached rapidly and you were now sitting on the couch waiting for Joel to arrive. You were growing incredibly impatient— you missed him so much, you were astounded at your own desperation. You felt like you were drowning, his touch and voice acting as your oxygen; without it, you couldn’t breathe and function properly. At the thought of him, you felt electrified.

You had already downed your first beer and you were working on your second. You didn’t want to get too tipsy. You didn’t trust yourself with concealing your feelings when you drank too much, so it certainly wasn’t an option for you to risk it with Joel and your dad in the same room.

You were mid swig when Joel walked in the front door, a six pack of beer bottles in his hand, his veins protruding. It was like you were like a vampire; his veins looked so delectable. His gaze locked on you immediately as he kicked off his shoes. He looked around, not catching sight of your dad yet, so he made his way over to you. He sat the beer on the coffee table and leaned over you, taking your face in his hands, kissing you with desperation. He evidently missed you just as much. The sound of the porch sliding glass door opening made Joel break away from you in a panic, retrieving the case of beer off the table. He walked away from you, leaving you a disheveled mess on the sofa. He wandered into the kitchen, finding your dad with a beer of his own in his hand.

“Thought I heard you pull in.” Your dad exclaimed, pulling Joel in for a hug, patting his back. He glanced down at the beer in Joel’s hand and grinned harder. “Yuengling, you know me so well. You better be sharing, Miller.”

“Consider me open to a trade.” Joel smiled, walking over to the fridge, placing the case inside before grabbing a bottle of his own.

Your dad leaned against the kitchen island, pulling his beer opener out of his pocket before tossing it to Joel. Joel caught it with ease, opening his beer casually. He tossed the opener back to your dad, then took a big swig of his beer.

“She’s been talking real highly of you.” Your dad said, half grinning at Joel. Joel cocked his head, swallowing the malty taste of beer on his tongue. “Says you’re doing a great job on the remodel.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Joel said, tilting his bottle towards your dad before bringing it back up to his lips.

“Talking about me?” You said, entering the kitchen.

“Only bad things.” Your dad teased, rubbing your head with his palm, making a messy of your hair.

“Dad!” You exclaimed, swatting his hand away, fixing your hair immediately. Joel watched the interaction with an amused expression playing across his facial features.

“Was just telling Joel about the amazing job he’s doing on your bathroom.” Your dad clarified, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Told him he probably needed a hazmat suit to get rid of that old toilet. Lord only knows the nuclear materials you unloaded in that thing.”

“Dad, what the fuck?” You groaned, pushing him off of you. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He had to have been at least four beers deep at this point. Joel laughed, his eyes lighting up when he made eye contact with you. You fought a smile back, shaking your head.

“Oh, bear. You always take jokes so seriously.” Your dad grumbled dramatically.

“Crack open another beer, see if you can keep up.” Your dad said to you, squeezing your shoulder with his hand. “Joel, come in here so I can AirPlay this fucking picture I took on the TV.”

Your jaw fell in disbelief. Yeah, your dad was definitely feeling goofy from the alcohol. He left the room in a hurry, leaving you and Joel alone in the kitchen.

“Holy fucking god.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I am so sorry about him, he’s a fucking idiot—”

Joel cut you off by walking towards you and pressing his lips to yours, his hand reaching up to grab the flesh of your breast through your tank top. God, he loved when you didn’t wear a bra. He pulled away from your mouth, kissing you on the forehead.

“S’okay, darlin’.” Joel said quietly. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You whispered, your hand reaching up to his jaw, tracing the outline of it with your forefinger.

You snapped out of the sentimental moment at the sound of your father’s bellowing laughter from the living room.

“Fucking hell!” He exclaimed through his laugh. “Joel, come here!”

Joel laughed, patting you on the behind before leaving the room to see what your father had cooked up on the TV. You shook your head in amusement and made your way to the fridge, grabbing one of the beers Joel had brought over. You wandered out of the kitchen, your eyes widening at the sight of another trucker’s dick on the screen as he pissed on the tire of a semi.

“Dad?!” You bursted out, rushing over to the couch to grab his phone out of his hand, turning off his AirPlay. Joel’s jaw was practically on the floor, his eyes slowly panning over to your father.

“Holy shit, I can’t breathe.” He said through his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “I hear something out of the corner of my ear, so Iooked out the window— and fuck, this guy is just fully cock out pissing.”

“So you took a picture of an unsuspecting man’s dick?” You said, tossing his phone back in his lap, just inches away from hitting him in the crotch.

“Naturally, yes.” Your dad responds, catching his breath when he finally calms down his laughter.

“Phew, have a seat, bear. Joel doesn’t bite.” Your dad gestured towards the open cushion between them. “Let’s watch a movie.”

You glanced over to Joel, a smirk playing across his lips as he sipped his beer. Oh he bites alright.

You obliged, wandering over to sit down between them. Biased, you sat a couple inches closer to Joel, your thighs nearly touching, but far enough away so that it wouldn’t raise any red flags for your father. Your father tossed you the bottle opener. You opened your bottle before tossing it right back to him.

“A-ha! Let’s watch Stepbrothers. Such a classic.” Your dad exclaimed, throwing his hands up in delight as he pressed play on the movie.

You raised your brows at him, then turned your attention to Joel who was already looking at you. The corners of his lips were tugging up in a playful grin. He glanced around you to make sure your father was locked on the movie before squeezing your thigh quickly. He leaned over to your ear, his hot breath fanning over you, sending chills down your spine.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He whispered in your ear, quiet enough to where you could barely make out what he said. “When you finish that beer, meet me in the kitchen.”

You spent the next fifteen minutes of the movie trying to drink your beer. You downed it slow enough to feel sick, but fast enough in pure desperation for what Joel was hinting at. When you finally finished your bottle, you sighed before looking at it.

“I need another beer.” You announced, pushing yourself off the couch. You held your empty hand out in front of your father. “Opener?”

“So needy.” He grumbled, setting it in your palm, craning his head around you to try and keep his eyes locked on the movie.

“I’ll come too.” Joel said, standing up with you and walking around you to the kitchen, his fingers brushing your wrist, sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Grab me one!” Your dad calls after him. You ducked out of his sight and followed Joel into the kitchen.

Joel reached into the fridge, grabbing three more Yuenglings in one of his hands. It was casual things like that that he made so sexy. You loved how big his hands were, and you loved them even more wrapped around your throat. He sat them down on the counter, then turned around to lean his lower back against the counter, looking down at you with his big brown irises.

You walked up to him, running your hands from his abdomen up to his warm chest. He looked so good in that black t-shirt. His smell was intoxicating— the woodsy scent was your favorite. He smirked down at you, reaching to brush your hair behind your ear. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, his hands raking through the hair at the back of your head. His tongue slipped past your lips, licking your teeth. You both tasted the zippy flavor of beer as your tongues danced with each other. Joel’s empty hand snaked down the expanse of your back to your behind, squeezing the flesh there under your thin shorts.

“Make sure you grab me a Yuengling—” Your dad’s voice entered the kitchen. “What the fuck?!”

You jolted off of Joel, wiping your lips frantically. The beer in your dad’s hand fell from his grasp, shattering in a loud collision with the granite flooring. His jaw was slack, pure shock ridden on his face.

“Dad, I—”

“I swear to fucking god.” Your dad snarled angrily. He strode towards Joel, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, getting centimeters from his face.

“And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled. “What gave you the audacity to lay a finger on my daughter? You fucking pervert!”

You watched in horror as your dad reared back a fist, ready to punch Joel right in the jaw.

“Dad, stop!” You screamed, bounding towards him and pushing him off of Joel.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Your father snapped at you. “Are you kidding me?”

“Lionel, it’s not what you—”

“You’d shut the fuck up if you knew what was good for you, Miller.” Your father interrupted him, his tone laced with venom. “You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass into a fucking pulp.”

Joel swallowed hard as your dad got in his face again. If looks could kill, Joel would’ve already been dead. You’ve never seen your father this pissed before in your life.

“I leave for five weeks and I come back to my fucking best friend’s tongue down my daughter’s throat.” He scoffed. “I don’t even want to fucking picture where else it’s been.”

“You,” your father poked Joel’s chest, “fucking disgust me.”

Your heart sank. Your hands were shaking as the scene unfolded in front of you. Your eyes were brimming hot with tears that threatened to fall at any second. Joel’s expression remained stoic, his knuckles white at his grip on the edge of the island countertop.

“If I had nothing to lose, you’d be a dead man.” Your father seethed with anger.

“Get the fuck out of my sight before I break all four of your limbs.” Your father threatened. Joel gulped. “You are to finish that fucking bathroom, but when you’re finished, I am to never see you again.”

“And you.” Your father turned to you. His face was the color of a chili pepper. “You better pray to fucking god that I don’t kick you out of this goddamn house. You are to work from your room, and so help me god you are to never see him again. You understand me?”

Tears flooded from your eyes, your lips quivering. You were absolutely broken. Your eyes flickered to Joel, his expression pained and defeated.

“Y-you don’t understand.” You hiccuped. “Dad, please just let us explain—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled. “Go to your room. Now.”

You felt like a fucking child again with the orders being barked at you by your father. You felt so small in that room, your body on fire with embarrassment and guilt. You’d imagined your father’s reaction to the both of you to be sour, but you truly underestimated him. You’d never seen him overcome with that much anger— he was borderline murderous and you were terrified. You couldn’t bear to look at Joel again, so you turned on your heel and darted out of the room, running up the stairs to your room. You were like a toddler who had been banished to their room in timeout.

You fell onto your bed, the sobs hitting you with full force. Your entire body shook as you cried out, the tears streaming from your eyes. You were completely and utterly broken.

The week dragged on painfully slow. You spent most of your days hardly able to focus on your work. Anytime you let your mind wander, you got flashbacks to that night in the kitchen, the disgusted look on your father’s face as he looked at you with pure disappointment. You and your father had always been so close, and now it felt like your relationship was tarnished forever. Between your ruined relationship with your father and losing Joel, you felt destroyed.

You hadn’t seen Joel since the altercation. He’d finished the bathroom a couple days prior, working in a rush. You worked in your room, only leaving to use the guest bathroom and eat occasionally downstairs. Even on your restroom breaks, you couldn’t bear to sneak a peek of Joel. It would be too painful for you. You wanted to give in and go and kiss him. To tell him that everything would be okay and you’d be able to go back to normal. But that couldn’t happen.

With your bathroom finally finished, you clocked out of work for the day, and went to scope it out. In all honesty, you’d been too broken to even step foot in your new bathroom. You knew if you went in there, all you’d be reminded of was Joel. You’d be smacked with reality if you saw it, and you’d realize the job was completed and you’d have no excuse to ever see Joel again.

You needed to shower, and you knew it was time you utilized your new bathroom. It crushed your soul more to know that Joel spent so much time perfecting your vision just for you to not use and appreciate it.

You walked cautiously through your bedroom towards the bathroom door. You inhaled deeply as you reached out to grasp the cold metal of the door knob. You mustered up the courage to open the door, the bathroom absolutely breathtaking in front of you. The tiles were dark green, the floor black and white checkered. The sink and toilet were a beautiful matte black, the faucets a gorgeous shade of gold. It was absolutely perfect. You felt your lip quiver as you began to tear up.

On the sink was a folded piece of paper. On top of it was a messy heart. You frowned as you walked towards the sink, taking the piece of paper in your hand. You slowly unfolded it, revealing Joel’s handwriting.

I hope it’s as beautiful as you envisioned. I wish I could’ve seen your reaction. Don’t be a stranger. -J

A pang shot through your heart. At his handwritten words, your gut felt hollow as you realized you had your camcorder filled with videos of the process of the remodel. You were in much too fragile of a state to watch it now, but you knew you’d watch them eventually.

That’s when you began to sob again. Your body shook as you cried. You didn’t hold back, letting the sadness completely consume you. You turned on the shower, turning the heat as hot as you could stand it. You stripped off your clothing, leaving yourself naked in front of your mirror. Your eyes scanned your bare body. You got flashbacks to each and every memory of the gentle way Joel would touch you. The way he’d softly squeeze your breasts, the way he’d ghost kisses down the skin of your neck. You cried harder, taking in your bloodshot eyes and the bags under your eyes. You looked as defeated as you felt.

You were laying on your bed that weekend, you back flat against your mattress. Your mind was numb, your body exhausted. Your eyes were sunken in and lifeless. You’d gone from being the happiest you’d ever been to completely soul crushed.

Suddenly, you weren’t sure what overcame you, but you were feeling rebellious. A realization fell over you; you could sit here miserable at the turn of events you’d faced, or you could take a risk and try to talk some sense into your father. You could risk it and it work and hope Joel and your father reconcile, or you could move on and always wonder what could have been.

Your body was a zombie going through the motions and you walked down the stairs. Your father wasn’t in the living room or kitchen, but you spotted his figure sitting facing away from you on the back porch. It was sunset, the beautiful shades of pink and orange waging the war of peace in your mind. Your father had a bottle of water in his hand. He hadn’t touched a beer since the night everything went down.

You took a deep breath and your hand grabbed the handle to the patio door, slowly opening it. Your father’s head turned to the side at the sound, but turned back to the front just as quick. His fist was gripping the arm of his chair, his foot tapping against the cement of the patio.

You silently sat in the chair next to him, your feet flat on the ground, your hands resting on the arms of your chair. You pursed your lips, staring off into the horizon. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“You’ve always been my favorite person. My idol.” You began, your voice shaking as you spoke. “I always wanted to please you. The sheer thought of disappointing you broke my heart.”

You kept your eyes forward, but you felt your father’s eyes on the side of your face.

“These past few weeks have been some of the happiest of my life. I haven’t felt butterflies since high school, but there I went, feeling them again.” You shakily took a deep breath, feeling tears form in your eyes. “Dad, I can’t expect you to understand what I am feeling. What Joel is feeling. But I need you to understand that I have never felt like this about someone.”

You glanced over at him, your vision cloudy with tears. Your father was frowning, his own eyes blurring with hot tears. You turned your gaze to your lap, finding your fingers there, toying with each other as a distraction.

“I can’t expect you to be okay with it. But, what I can expect from you is to try and understand. I know it’s fucking bizarre for you, but I need you to try and see things from my perspective. Dad, I—” you paused, sniffling.

“I love him.” You admitted, staring off at the sun setting over the field in front of you. “I’ve never been so sure of something in my life. I’m not the best at describing how I feel, but I feel so incredibly happy and authentically myself with him. He’s everything I could ever want; he’s so kind to me, Dad. He makes me feel so beautiful and loved. He makes me feel so goddamn important.”

A tear rolled down your father’s cheek as you spoke. He swallowed the lump in his throat, closing his eyes shut, breathing deeply.

“I’m not a kid anymore. I know this is still your house and you’re so gracious to let me stay here while I figure my shit out, but I want you to allow me to be my happiest and not hold me back. I need you to give us a chance. If he hurts me, that’s my fault. But that’s my choice to make, not yours. I can’t expect you to understand what we have, but I can expect you to let me do what will make me happy.”

You hiccuped back a sob as you finished your speech, wiping your clammy palms on the fabric of your sweatpants. You wiped the tears from your cheeks that spilled as you talked.

Your father stayed silent for a moment, fully comprehending your words.

“Okay.” He said plainly. Your eyes snapped over to him. He was looking up at you with sad, but hopeful eyes. The slightest ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He reached his hand up to wipe away his tears with the palm of his hand.

“Okay?” You repeated, standing up from your chair, walking over to him, watching him for a second.

“Okay.” He repeated. “I don’t understand what’s happening between the two of you, but like you said, that’s none of my business. It’s not my decision to choose who you spend your time on. I just want what’s best for you, bear.”

You cried as you bent down and hugged him, pulling him forward from the back of the chair. He dropped his water bottle, hugging you back as tight as he could.

“I’m so sorry.” He cried. “I love you so much. I thought I lost you.”

You sobbed into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.

“I love you.”

You pulled away from him, taking in his watery eyes. He reached up, wiping the pad of his thumb across his cheek to wipe away the tear stains.

“Go on.” He muttered. “Go see him.”

You brows taught together and you sniffled.

“I’ll have a conversation with him eventually. But for now, it’s important you go make sure you’re okay.” Your dad said softly, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek before rushing back towards the house, opening the patio door faster than you ever had. You scooped your keys up off the hook in the foyer and didn’t even bother putting shoes on. You ran out to your car in the driveway, not missing a beat to rev up the engine and throw it into reverse. That was the fastest you’d ever driven to Joel’s house.

You pulled into the driveway, parking behind Joel’s brown truck. You threw the car into park and hastily unbuckled your seatbelt, throwing the door open. You climbed out, slamming the door before running across the lawn and up the stairs to his front door. You were panting as you knocked on the door rapidly, only breaking to ring the doorbell.

The door swung open to Joel. He was disheveled, his eyes lifeless and sunken in. His hair was messy and unkempt. His eyes softened at the sight of you and your emotional state. Taking him by surprise, you rushed up to him, throwing your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest.

“Baby.” He said quietly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight against him. He rested his chin on the top of your head, breathing in your sweet scent that he missed so much.

“I love you.” You blurted into the fabric of his shirt.

“What?” Joel said, pulling away from you, not sure if he heard you correctly.

“I love you, Joel Miller.” You gazed up at him. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You grabbed his face in your hands, taking in every square inch of his face. He parted his lips in disbelief. He didn’t speak, just stared back at you as if you’d just said the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

He still didn’t respond, but laced his fingers into the soft locks of your hair to pull you into a desperate kiss, his eyes squeezing shut as he tasted you. God, he missed you so much. Your lips moved in sync, your hands tugging at the hair at the base of his neck. The kiss was fast and hungry, but it was filled with every ounce of emotion you felt towards each other.

Joel pulled away, grabbing your cheeks in his large palms, watching the way you stared up at him with pure adoration.

“I love you.” He said. “I love you so fucking much.”

He kissed you again, this time slower, his lips moving so passionately against yours. He pulled your body closer to him, his breath warm through his nose. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip but didn’t breach past. He was savoring the taste of you.

He pulled away, his eyes searching your face.

“I talked to my dad. H-he’s still unsure but he’s giving us a chance.” You said, wrapping your arms around Joel, pulling him in for another hug. You missed how safe he felt. “He wants to talk to you eventually.”

“I— wow.” Joel breathed out, pulling you tighter to him chest, running his hand through your hair.

“I thought you would never want to see me again.” You muttered, squeezing his back with your hands.

“That’s the last thing I’d want, sweetheart. I thought the same for you.”

“You’re never getting rid of me, Joel.” You said, lifting yourself on your tiptoes to kiss him again. His hands ran over the expanse of your back, whining into your mouth.

He pulled away, taking your face in his hands again, admiring your beauty, admiring that here you were in his arms.

“I love you.”

And in that moment, you both knew everything was going to be okay.

taglist— @ghostwritesthings, @magpiepills, @laurrrra, @brittmb115, @kaislashes, @smccul

#din djarin #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #the mandalorian #dbf!joel #joel miller smut

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tubatwo · 1 year ago

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words left behind - choi soobin

summary: a series of forgotten ‘I love you's becomes too much for soobin, leaving him in a state of worry

pairing: gn reader x choi soobin

genre: fluff/slight angst; 1.6k words

the words “I love you” were always exchanged between you and soobin. they were more than mere words. they were a symphony of shared affection. a daily tradition that had permanently made its way into your lives. it didn’t matter who was around or where you were, you never once forgot to exchange those three sweet words.

but lately, life had its own plans in mind, and with millions of responsibilities and burdens on your shoulders, there were a few times when you had forgotten to say the words back to soobin.

a few times too many.

“dammit, i’m gonna be late!” you exclaim, rushing to kick off the covers that were half of the reason for your warmth all night.

the other half, your boyfriend, was currently rubbing his eyes in confusion at your behavior. “what’s going on?” he asks softly.

“my stupid phone died during the middle of the night so my alarm didn’t go off,” you huff loudly as you strip out of your pajamas, running around the room like a headless chicken, “i’m supposed to present the financial report today and now I don’t even have time to grab breakfast or coffee and I work til late and I ju–”

your words are cut off by soobin, who has now made his way out of your shared bed to hold you in his arms. “hey hey, shhh, it’s alright..” he reassures you, “how about you shower while I make you coffee and a quick bite to eat?” and if that wasn’t enough to make you fall for him all over again, he wasn’t finished. “and text me when you’re finishing up so I can order your dinner, okay?” he leaves you with a kiss on your forehead.

you have to remind yourself that you don’t have time to cry in his arms and ramble about how unbelievably lucky you are, so you leave him with kisses all over his face before turning to your tasks, hoping that it would be enough to convey your love. “thank you so much, baby!”

after getting ready and grabbing all of your things, you quickly make your way to the entrance of your apartment. “i’m off now!”

“good luck, I love you!” soobin yells from the room, except instead of hearing those words in return he’s met with the sound of a door slamming shut.

the weekend meant that there was finally some time for rest and relaxation between you and soobin. no work nagging at you and no clock dictating your day. it was a clean slate, meant just for the two of you.

surprisingly, instead of staying in like usual, you decided to plan a small picnic at a park nearby.

“hurry, before the sun sets without us!” you exclaim, excitedly running towards your designated spot under the tree. your picnic basket was filled with various types of your favorite foods: gimbap, dumplings, bread, and ramen in heated mugs. you even had plans to get bingsu once you were finished.

you and soobin sat down and immediately started digging in, updating each other on the details of your week. when time is your enemy and a constant reminder of harsh deadlines, you don’t always have time to fully explain the details of your day. however, during times like this, you had all the time in the world.

“and then my boss said I gave the best presentation, can you believe it?” soobin smiles at your enthusiasm, proudly letting both of his dimples show. “of course I believe it, my baby is the best.” his lips meet your cheeks as his arms wrap tighter around you. after finishing up all of the food, you cuddled up together against the tree.

“I wanna thank you for being so patient with me this week.” you utter softly.

“hm? what do you mean?” soobin asks, a bit taken aback from the sudden gratitude.

“i’ve been so busy this week and you’ve just been an absolute angel,” you explain, “I can’t thank you enough for everything you do to help me, soobin.”

you feel soobin smile against your neck before he places soft kisses on your skin. “if I can help alleviate some of your stress then it’s no problem. you always do the same for me..”

you turn your body slightly to look your boyfriend in the eyes, the both of you grinning ear to ear before pressing your lips together. the world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the sounds of your heartbeats, and the taste of his kiss, which tasted a lot like the honey bread he had just finished.

“I love you, baby.” soobin confesses after breaking the kiss, his sudden confession making your heart swell.

as soon as you open your mouth to respond, you feel a sudden cold splash on your forehead. “I– ah!” you look up only to feel another splash, then another, then another.

it was raining.

“oh god, soob, it’s raining! let’s hurry back!” you stand up quickly to pack away any trash that was leftover from your meal. you look over to see your boyfriend staring at the ground with an unrecognizable emotion on his face. his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and you could see his fists starting to bunch up the blanket underneath him.

“soob?” you repeat yourself.

suddenly he snaps out of whatever state he was in and stands up, grabbing the blanket and folding it into a smaller square. while you carried the basket, he used the blanket as an umbrella to keep you two from getting wet.

at this point, all bingsu plans were cancelled, and the silence in the car led you to believing that he was really looking forward to it.

“hey, maybe we can get bingsu tomorrow?” you suggest, trying your best to lighten the mood.

“okay, sure.” he says dryly.

something had shifted. he didn’t glance at you once and didn’t even bother holding your hand with his free one. you thought that maybe he was trying to pay extra attention to the road since it was raining, so you didn’t question it anymore.

later that night, things had started to go back to normal. it seemed like soobin has snapped out of whatever mood he was in before and was mostly back to talking normally. however, he still had a bit of hesitation with his words.

you lie in bed as he finishes his skincare routine, eyes barely hanging on as exhaustion takes over your body. you’re half asleep when he finishes, a sleepy smile on your face as he crawls into bed next to you.

“today was really fun..” soobin murmurs quietly. you hum in agreement as sleep begins to take over your body more and more.

“night baby, I love you.” soobin confesses.

he felt stupid after multiple attempts of trying to hear you say it back. he didn’t understand what was going on, I mean, things seemed to be going okay? you still hugged and kissed him as if nothing was wrong. so why was he hurting so much?

each time, it pricked at his heart, a tiny bit of insecurity growing with every missed "I love you." he began to wonder if this was the beginning of you slowly distancing yourself from him.

and you, half-dreaming already, hum once again in response, your mind already halfway between dreams and reality.

“please say it back..” soobin whispers, his voice cracking and eyes beginning to tear up.

the vulnerability and emotion in his voice immediately breaks you out of whatever dream you were having. you turn to look at him and the sight of a tear streaming down his face was stronger than any alarm could possibly be.

wide awake now, you reach out to cup his cheek. “i’m here, honey, i’m so sorry,” you whisper. a mix of insecurity and embarrassment washes over soobin’s face, and he can’t help but to ask quietly:

“do you still love me?”

it’s almost as if you could hear your own heartbreak at the words. all you could feel was guilt and hurt due to the doubt you had unintentionally given to the person you loved most. “yes, of course baby,” you begin, “I love you so much, I promise I love you with all of my heart.”

soobin immediately shows a relieved smile, happiness consuming his entire body after finally hearing the words he was desperately missing this week.

“i’m sorry, i’m a bit embarrassed now..” soobin wipes some of the stray tears on his cheek before letting out a sad chuckle. “I know it probably wasn’t intentional but you haven't been saying it back and I got in my head..”

you shake your head as you wrap your arms around him, face buried in his neck as your hands rub gentle circles on his back. “no, I should be the one apologizing,” you state firmly, “I am so so sorry for leaving you hanging and taking advantage of your love.”

before soobin could even interrupt you to deny your words, you were already sitting up. “you know how much those words mean to me, and i’m sorry I let the craziness of the world take them away.”

“truthfully, you’re the reason why I was able to get through this week. even though you didn’t necessarily hear it from me, your love is what anchored me and gave me strength. but.. I don’t want to make it a bad habit. because you deserve to hear those words more than anything. you deserve to feel the certainty of my love.”

soobin’s smile blossoms into one of pure affection, his fingers caressing your cheek with a gentle tenderness as he leans in to meet you in a kiss. a kiss that conveyed everything you two wanted to say to each other at that moment.

i’m sorry

it’s okay

I love you

I love you too

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yesimwriting · 1 year ago

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Final Girl (Part 10)

Final Girl Masterlist (updated chapters 1-10 and extras, asks/extras involving the final girl fic verse are under the tag ‘final girl fic’)

A/n i’m leaning towards starting to write shorter chapters in order to be able to update a little faster but idk

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: The aftermath of learning that a certain redheaded journalist is making you a focal point of her true crime novel.

----

In the least cynical way possible, sometimes I think a part of my mom craves conflict. Not in a narcissistic or violent way, just in a protective one.

She doesn’t pick fights for the sake of having them, she doesn’t tear into things for the rush of adrenaline or to feed some complex. My mom likes standing up for people in a way that would be annoyingly self righteous if it was any less genuine. Any incident that could be interpreted as blood in the water has her diving in head first, ready to ward off any potential sharks.

That’s why nothing about this rampage is surprising. She’s been pacing the length of the kitchen without giving the phone in her hand a break, typing out numbers at an unbelievable speed, only occasionally pausing to flip through the phone book on the counter.

“Well then put me through,” she stalls long enough to put a hand on her hip, “Not to an assistant, not to the station, or the publishing company. Get Gale Weathers on the phone. Now.”

This is the third time she’s pulled this stunt since I walked into the kitchen to grab a pity snack. The way she presses her lips together tells me that this time hasn’t been any more successful. “She’s too busy? Well, I hope she’s not too busy for a law su--” Something cuts her off. My mom blinks. “Hello?”

“I told you that threatening to sue people wouldn’t work over the phone.”

She pulls the phone away from her ear with a sigh. “It’s not a threat if I mean it.” The phone is placed on the counter as she turns her attention to the phone book. “That woman can’t do this. You, and your legal guardian, never consented to your likeness or story being used.”

Unfortunately, that’s not completely true. Or, at the very least, it’s not that concrete or straight forward. When something’s news, information becomes a lot less easy to claim as personal or yours. Especially if personal information is kept vague enough. The second I was attacked by Ghostface and the news reported it, a lot of me in that context became a lot less legally sound. I’d have to prove it defamed me or hurt my life, which can’t be done before the book comes out.

“We can’t prove that until the book is out.”

She sighs, “There has to be something.” My mom taps her manicured nails against the granite counter top.

My stomach twists with helplessness as the most urgent issue rushes to the front of my mind. It’s more than just someone taking advantage of my trauma or the fact that books are so much more permanent than any news headline ever could be. Books take time to come out, to circulate, which means that this tell all could reach its peak during my college app season. Princeton could see this. All colleges could see this.

“Mom...” I can feel the tremor in my voice, but I can’t bring myself to stop it.

In a way, isn’t this best case scenario? Compared to what could have happened? Isn’t this such a small thing compared to what happened to Casey? I know this, but I can’t quite bring myself to feel it fully. Not when it comes to something I’ve worked for my entire life.

“What if--what if this gets in the way of Princeton?”

She presses her lips together, watching me openly in a way that’s become familiar. “Oh, pumpkin,” she breathes, moving across the counter to pull me into a hug, “I’m sorry you’re going through this.” I squeeze her tightly. “And that I don’t know what to say or how to help.” She smooths my hair down gently. “But when it comes to school, all you can do is keep up your grades and when the time comes, write the best essay you can. And if they’re stupid enough to turn down your weirdly-good grades and insane resume, then screw Princeton.”

Despite myself, I smile. Those soft digs at my type-A-ness aren’t lost on me and the sense of familiarity I get from them instantly make it easier. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, and if you want, you could always write your own tell-all book that would outsell hers because yours is from the--”

“Excuse me?”

She lets go of me, taking a step back at my offense. “I’m not telling you to write it, I’m just saying a published book would look good on an Ivy-league application.”

Sometimes I’m so crazy about school that I forget my mom is also capable of insanity. “Mom!”

My mom lets out a sigh. “What? You’ve been obsessed with Princeton since your dad gave you his old college sweatshirt in the third grade, but now I’m crazy?”

She’s half joking and I know she’d never actually push me to write something like that, but my stomach still turns. Yes, I have made a ton of jokes about having no morals when it comes to college apps, but it’s different now. Anything that has to do with that Ghostface stuff feels tainted. I don’t want success from him. I don’t want anything good from Casey’s death.

I pick up the spoon that’s sunken into my partially melted bowl of ice cream. “I am not exploiting this.”

She holds her hands up in defense, “It’d ruin Gale’s book, jump start your career in journalism.” My mom extends an arm, asking for my spoon. I sigh before handing it to her. She eats a healthy spoonful of ice cream. “Two birds, one stone.”

I scoff, taking the spoon back and eating my own spoonful. "You’re sick.”

My mom steps back form the counter. “Just a suggestion.”

I’m about to assert my previous point when the doorbell rings. I raise an eyebrow at my mom, silently asking if I’m expecting anyone. I’m not so I just shrug, moving away from the counter and towards the door.

There’s a chance it could be Wells. He’s at work, but it wouldn’t be the first time he forgot his keys. I peak out the window and am instantly pleasantly surprised. I’m more excited than I can justify as I reach for the front door’s lock.

The door creaks open and I fight down a grin. I don’t know why they’re here, but I don’t mind the unexpected visit. I had been planning on moping and rotting in bed until school.

“Hey,” I mumble, latching onto my surprise.

Stu flashes a warm smile in greeting, “Hey, sweetheart.”

I wrinkle my nose at the nickname despite its tameness. My mom’s way too close for that. I’m torn between making a joke about it and avoiding drawing attention to my concern and giving Stu a reason to push. I settle on looking over at Billy. He’s standing in a way that feels a little stiff.

There’s a chance they called first, since they usually do when they come over through the front door instead of just showing up at my window. “If you called, my mom’s sort of taken over our phone line.” They both already know about Gale’s book and the fact that she’s editing it to include me, since they were both there when I found out. That still doesn’t make it easy to talk about, “She’s hunting down Gale Weathers.”

"Then I’m scared for Gale Weathers.” Stu raises his eyebrows, exaggerating concern.

Billy nods once, “She deserves it.”

That’s true. I wasn’t exactly kind to her during our brief meeting, but she ambushed me at school after I was attacked. But that can’t be enough to justify what she’s doing now, especially without so much as a ‘heads up, you’re in my book’ phone call. If you’re going to potentially ruin someone’s future because they happened to have survived a serial killer, it wouldn’t kill you to call first.

“Anything...else up?” Stu’s question surprises me. Maybe I didn’t react fast enough or I still look as worried about all of this as I feel.

I don’t want to get into the details of my concern. I freaked out in front of them enough after I saw Gale’s announcement on TV, but there’s no way I can get away with acting like I’m perfectly okay with it all now. I guess I’ll go with deflecting, “Just my mom being a total college obsessed psycho.”

The corner of Billy’s mouth tilts upwards, almost a smile. “You had to get it from somewhere.”

I glare at him in a way that I really hope is cutting. “Shut up. I’m not psycho.”

“I’ve seen the Princeton poster in your roo--” I shake my head sharply, extending an arm to softly punch Stu’s arm.

He stops, more out of surprise than decency. I drop my voice to a low whisper in order to explain, “My mom’s not that distracted, and she doesn’t know you’ve ever been in my room.” Stu grins at my seriousness. “And she can never find out.”

This only makes him grin more openly, “Keeping secrets for me?”

“I’m not above kicking you guys out.”

Billy sighs, a defensive huff. “I didn’t do anything.”

A slightly too aggressive you brought him here almost slips out, but I manage to stop it. Maybe if I was in a more joking, lighthearted mood I’d let myself make that kind of aggressive joke, but I’m moody and there’s a good chance my irritation will slip into that. it’ll taint the comment and make it something a lot more serious than it’s supposed to be.

“Yet,” I settle on, trying to feel as easy as the comment.

He frowns, eyebrows pulling together like he just watched me kick a puppy. After a second, Billy parts his lips, but he doesn’t get to say anything back.

“Who’s at the door?” My mom’s voice carries from the hall and to the entryway, a moment later she appears. I turn my head in time to see her polite smile, a little irate thanks to how the last day and a half have been. “Oh, hi, Billy, Stu.’’ Her greeting is flatter than usual as she barely takes a second to look up from the phone. “Come in, come in.”

I step back to create space for them to come in. Despite my mom’s instinctual fall back to politeness, she barely notices the difference as she hits redial before pressing the phone to her ear. “Do you guys want anything to drink or...are you hungry or...going...” She trails off, attention visibly shifting as she waves us off, “Hello, can I--look, that’s great, Jocelyn, but I need to get in touch with your supervisor?”

With one last force-of-habit smile, she turns away from the entryway and walks out. I walk towards the front door, instinctually shutting and locking it. “That’s basically my life now.”

“Poor thing,” Stu’s voice is thick with false sympathy, “Your mommy’s fixing everything for--”

“Shut up.” The reply comes out too quickly, too serious.

Stu blinks once, clearly not expecting the hint of actual tension and hostility that managed to press itself into the two words. “Someone’s moody.”

I squeeze my eyes shut for a long second. “Sorry, I didn’t--” Sighing, I try to force the stiffness out of my body. “This book thing’s starting to get to me. I know that’s not an excuse, I just--” I don’t know how to explain the knot in my throat or the nerves in my stomach.

The thought of this one thing I was delusional enough to think that I might be able to one day put behind me being everywhere is starting to claw at my insides. That helplessness is being amplified by a strange form of guilt, because I’m the one that’s still alive, so why should I get to complain?

“Hey,” Stu interrupts my derailing train of thought. He places a hand on my shoulder, “No hard feelings, okay?”

I nod, irritated at myself for the tears I feel burning in my eyes. “Okay.”

“You wanna get out of here?” Billy’s question is so low I almost convince myself I made it up. But then he lets out a breath and tacts on something else, “...Or we could go upstairs or watch a movie or whatever?”

The offer is so gentle I nearly melt. “Did you guys want to do something?”

They did come here, probably for a reason. Not that they never come over just to hang out, but they usually have some kind of plan or suggestion, like going over to Stu’s or driving around or watching a specific movie.

“Just wanted to see how you were doing.” Billy’s reply comes out slowly, his eyes not fully focused on me. “We called and you didn’t answer, and after the news thing...”

That’s fair. I did leave Stu’s house pretty fast after the Gale Weathers thing and haven’t talked to anyone outside of my house for over 24 hours. Usually people worrying about how I’m handling things makes me feel uncomfortably hollow, but this doesn’t make any of that come up. Maybe it’s because they’re not making it feel like pity.

“Uh...” There’s honestly not much that seems fun right now. A part of me still wants to crawl under my covers and pretend that nothing else exists, but they’ve pulled me out worse moods before. “I can show you guys that album I was talking about?” The offer feels weak, a little hollow. Stu squeezes my shoulder before relaxing his arm. “The CD’s in my room.” I shrug, looking between the two of them, “Or we could do whatever.”

“You’ve been talking about that CD for a long time for someone who always forgets to bring it.” Stu’s not even trying to hide his accusation as he starts walking down the hallway.

I cross my arms, giving Billy a look that asks if he can believe all I have to deal with. “Yeah, I’m just worried your top 20 pallet is too complex for our tastes to ever overlap.”

Stu scoffs, “Yeah, I’m the one that’s into top 20.”

“Out of the three of us?” Billy’s question rivals Stu’s blatant sarcasm.

I fight down a smile as Stu turns his head enough to glare. The display of irritation is short lived, because Stu has to turn back around to avoid tripping on the first stair step. He nearly misses, but recovers so quickly I wouldn’t have noticed the misstep if I hadn’t been looking at him. Sometimes his stability surprises me, because Stu’s energetic and lanky enough to warrant being a little clumsy, but he’s a lot better at not tripping than me.

We walk up the stairs, the only sound filling the space is my mom’s voice, too far for any specifics to be made out.

“I think I miss your mom not trusting us.” Stu lets out a wistful sigh.

Rolling my eyes, I push open the door to my room. “Don’t worry, she’s just distracted.”

Even though my mom’s phone tirade is definitely helping her be so easy, I know what he’s talking about. When Billy and Stu first started hanging around, my mom felt the need to hover a lot more. She’d check up on us a lot more than she would when I was alone with Sidney or Tatum. My mom would also make a lot of jokes and comments in order to pry as (not so) subtly as possible. Slowly, she became more accustomed (or maybe desensitized), to them and now my mom acts a lot more normal in front of them. When they leave, she normally still pushes a little, usually through humor, but it’s a lot more tolerable now.

Stu walks into my room before I can, walking towards my bed. “We’re growing on her.”

I sit down next to him. “Or she finally gets that you two barely register as guys to me.”

Stu moves, intentionally bumping his knee into mine, hard enough to make my knee move. Once he has my attention, he flexes an arm. “I’m all man, angel.”

There’s an exaggerated quality to his reaction that I can’t tell if I’m meant to take seriously or not. It’s the uncertainty that makes me let out a slight laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

He turns his head, leaning back slightly as he presses his palms into my comforter. “Then how’d you mean it?”

My face feels a little warmer than before and I can’t figure out what that’s about. I’m used to Stu pressing after comments like this. Sometimes his humor focuses on making someone feel uncomfortable. Retreating or acting awkward gives him a reason to keep pushing. But I have no good way to answer.

I wipe my hands on the fabric of my jeans. “Don’t start.”

“Maybe I don’t get it.”

I stand, throwing him a dirty look as I move towards my CD player. “Maybe you’re full of shit.”

He huffs, “Mean.”

My fingers skim the row of CDs on my desk before finding the one I’m looking for. I use my nail to pop open the case. “Yeah, I’m a real bully.” Billy, who’s been lingering near my desk, opens my CD player before I can. I set the disk in place. “Can you believe him?”

Billy shakes his head once, a few strands of hair falling out of place with the motion. He picks up the CD case and starts studying the back of it. “I can’t believe you can’t.”

Stu lets out a distracted sound of protest. I wouldn’t be surprised if I turned around and found him fidgeting with something. My room’s not a total disaster, but I’ve been too busy moping to fully clean it, so there are a lot of contenders for things Stu could be messing with. I can’t think of anything that’s within his reach that’s embarrassing or important, so I let it go. Billy seems a little tense and considering the headspace he was in the last time I saw him, figuring that out is important.

“Fair,” I hum, shutting the CD player, “You uh--” His eyes flit upwards, away from the CD case. The look is kind of stiff, but not annoyed or wary. It makes me realize that I don’t really have a good way to finish my sentence. Asking if someone’s okay never feels natural. Especially when he’s only been here for a few. “You okay?” I force myself to focus on the CD player, messing with the volume instead fo just hitting play. “You seem a little tense.”

He sets the plastic case down. “I’m okay.” Billy straightens, shifting his weight off of my desk. The movement is small, he hasn’t even taken a full step, but the change makes him feel a lot closer. “Just can’t believe she can do that.” His tone takes on such a hard edge it takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about. Is the book thing really bothering him that much? “To you, to--does she think she’s untouchable? That guy’s still out there, what makes her think he won’t find her and rip that bitch’s--”

Billy cuts himself off with no warning, eyes focusing on me. I blink. Billy might come off as intense and reserved before you know him, but he’s never seemed explosive or prone to emotional impulsivity like that. Even when I briefly thought he could have been the killer, he never came off as aggressive. He never even held the fact that I put his life in danger and accused him of being a serial killer against me.

This tension is new and it came from feeling defensive over me. The realization that it has something to do over me makes me more antsy than Billy’s actual words.

“Woah,” Stu says through a dry laugh. “Relax, dude, there’s no need to write the next news story for her.” Stu swings an arm over my shoulder. I’m still stuck on what just happened, so it takes me a millisecond too long to weakly attempt to get Stu off of me. He pinches my shoulder, the nail of his thumb digging into my skin just enough for it to register as stinging. “You’re in poor Billy’s head.” I can’t tell if Stu’s teasing is meant to be sympathetic towards Billy or accusatory towards me. “Give the boy a break.”

My chin briefly tilts downwards, a compulsory movement that seems to genuinely want to listen to what’s clearly a joking command. “I’ll try.”

Stu relaxes his hold on me, dragging his thumb up and down the exposed skin of my shoulder, soothing the skin he accidentally irritated. I extend my arm, turning on the music absentmindedly. The room doesn’t exactly feel tense, but I feel a lot smaller than I did a few seconds ago. I don’t know if it’s because of the dip into a gory, too real topic or Stu’s comment or if I’m still just irritable.

“Guess it’s not your fault,” Stu hums, squeezing my shoulder once, “You can’t help being lovable.”

I try to keep myself focused as I adjust the volume of the first song. “That’s true.” He lets go of me and I stand a little straighter. “We all have our faults.”

Billy lets out a breath that’s suspiciously close to a laugh. “Yeah, your only flaw’s that you’re too perfect.”

“You were the one ready to support a murder for her,” Stu defends bluntly, “Not saying that Gale Weathers doesn’t deserve what she gets.”

In all honesty, I had been so distracted by the way the book would affect me and my chances to get past the Ghostface thing that I didn’t even think about the actual killer. This could get him to hurt someone else. Gale Weathers could be making herself a target, but I find the thought unlikely. The more I reflect on why he left me alive the more I think that it might have been because there’s more of a story when there’s a survivor. He joked with me about the final girl thing. He also called me once without attacking anyone. The asshole probably gets off on attention.

Gale Weathers is probably the safest person in this town. The more she talks, the more attention he gets. It probably also helps his ego because he knows everyone’s after him and he hasn’t been caught. It’ll probably get him to hurt someone...just not her. Not that I hope Gale gets stabbed, it just makes her choices that much more selfish.

I scratch the back of my wrist, staring at my open palm. The tiny white line, the scar carved into the skin of my hand seems bigger right now. “I don’t--it’s not like I want Gale to get hurt.”

“No one’s saying you do,” Billy says, voice patient.

I sigh, a part of me wishing this hadn’t come up. This was the last thing I wanted to think about, that’s why I’ve been ignoring calls and just focusing on homework. I walk away from my desk and sit down on my bed before slumping back semi-dramatically. If this is how Billy and Stu are acting, everyone at school is definitely going to start treating me weirdly again. Maybe Gale will be there, trying to chase me down for a quote.

Ugh...maybe I can get my mom to bully the principle into letting me homeschool for a few days. A week maximum. Or maybe she’ll let me pretend to have mono or something. I have most of my textbooks here and I could get assignments from--

My bed dips, cutting off my train of thought. I turn my head enough to see Billy. “I--” His voice comes out so low I’m surprised I even heard him over the music. “I didn’t want to bring all of that up for you.”

There’s a softness there that makes it easier to genuinely shake my head dismissively. “It’s okay.”

His eyes briefly meet mine. “I also didn’t uh--didn’t want to freak you out or--”

“You didn’t.” That’s true, at least in the way he meant it. That level of anger over something that only really affects me did surprise me, but it’s not like he scared me. He hesitantly focuses his attention on me. I prop my head up on one elbow, watching him carefully. “You’re not as scary as you think you are.”

Billy tilts his head, his lips tugging into an uncertain smile. “Oh, yeah?”

He’s probing, likely trying to trick me into a compliment. “You’re losing your edge.” I keep my voice as nonchalant as possible as I drop my elbow and lay down again. “I think it’s all the time around me.”

His eyebrows draw together like he’s seriously considering my hypothesis. “Valid theory.” The bed moves with no warning, the space to my left indenting. Billy lays down next to me without moving to make sure there’s enough space between me and the headboard. His arm presses into mine. “All the time in here can’t be helping either.”

Billy does come over to my room a lot, usually crashing here when he needs to avoid his dad and doesn’t want to talk about it. Recently, though, he hasn’t been around as much. I didn’t think too much of it until I went over to Stu’s and saw that Billy wasn’t up for much of anything. “It’s the exposure to all the fluffy pillows.”

“Probably.” Something warm brushes against the back of my wrist. Billy carefully traces an invisible line up my forearm. “This song’s nice.”

The warmth of validation tugs at my chest. “It’s my favorite one on here.” He follows the same trail back down the inside of my forearm. “I think you’ll like the uh--” There had been a specific one on the track list that reminded me of a few songs he had shown me before. I list the titles in my head until I remember the right one, “Fourth track.”

“Hm,” he hums in a way that doesn’t feel dismissive, just relaxed.

The bed shifts again. I crane my neck back, eyes straining to see behind me. After a second, I make out Stu circling my nightstand. “This is new.” He’s picking something up. Stu sits back down, making it easier to see what’s caught his attention.

Oh. Not new, but I don’t blame him for not having my bookshelf memorized. “Not new.” He turns the book onto its side, studying the worn spine as if to confirm what I’m saying. “Just haven’t read it in a minute, thought it might cheer up.”

There have been few problems that American Psycho and Patrick Bateman haven’t been able to at least help. It didn’t make me feel a lot better, but it was nice to distract myself from a real life murderer with the fictitious kind.

Stu pauses, skimming the back of the book. “A little dark for a pick me up.”

“It’s well written.”

That’s true, and its commentary on social values and the rise of well off, stockbroker success and the culture that’s developed because of it is interesting and a creative analysis of society’s values. It also helps that despite being written with only a few redeeming qualities and being the literal villain (and weirdly misogynistic), I might have the smallest bit of a thing for Patrick Bateman. Not that I’d ever go for anyone like that in real life, but my fascination with his character is definitely a guilty pleasure. A guilty pleasure they really don’t need to know about.

He thumbs through the pages, attention focused like he’s actually reading it all that fast. Stu nods once, setting the book down at the edge of my bed before picking up a sweatshirt I almost forgot was still on my bed. He takes a second to feel the fabric of the sleeve before loosely folding it. Stu leaves it next to my book before laying down.

We’re all lying horizontally now, but Stu’s backwards, his head closer to my torso and legs than anything else. The position makes it easy for me to secretly move my hand and softly flick his shoulder. Stu snaps his head in my direction, expression so shocked and slightly horrified I might as well have slapped him.

It’d probably be smart to backtrack, but I’m clearly in no mood to make intelligent decisions, so I let myself laugh. The sound is a quick, too-smug giggle. Stu’s eyebrows pull together at the sound, the look concerning in its seriousness. I move to pull my hand back, but my reaction is too late. Stu throws his hand forward, grasping onto my wrist. I yank back once, had enough to be considered serious. Stu squeezes tighter, pulling my arm forward with an ease that embarrasses me.

“Stu!” A partial squeak, a partial laugh.

He squeezes my arm to his chest, forcing my body to lean forward. I squirm, attempting to slip out of his grasp. I come close to escaping when I twist my arm back and turn my wrist without warning him, but Stu recovers. Growing desperate, I use my free hand to shove his shoulder. That backfires, too, encouraging him to use his other hand to keep me trapped.

The play fight escalates, both of us trying to win without getting up or seeming too invested. My wrist makes a cracking sound as I finally slip out of his hold. He’s quick to throw his arm forward and grab me again. Before I can even think to react, Stu tugs my hand upwards and briefly nips the side of my hand.

I gasp so dramatically one might think he tried to gnaw off my entire hand. “Did you just bite me?” Stu laughs, finally letting me take my arm back. I take a second to examine my hand, even though his teeth barely touched me. After deciding that my unmarked skin will one day recover, I prop myself up on my forearm and look over at Billy. “He fucking bit me.”

Billy turns his head, unbothered by our conflict. “You started it.” There’s an underlying smugness that makes me want to shove him. I frown openly, not caring if I get accused of pouting. He sighs, holding up a hand. “Fine. Let’s see the damage.”

“I didn’t even touch her.”

I roll my eyes at Stu’s defense. Did it hurt? No, but it was deeply offensive. “You’re lucky I don’t bite you.”

Stu lets out a breath, “Sweetheart, you can bi--”

“Do not.” I keep my voice stern as I look at Billy’s waiting hand. He asked to see the damage, but there really isn’t any. The skin beneath my thumb wasn’t even grossly damp. It was more about my shock. But I still listen, setting my hand on his.

Billy pulls on my hand gently, studying my skin intently. He even takes a second to bend my fingers and stretch them back out. “Think you’ll live.”

I nod, letting Billy take his time still examining my hand. “Optimistic prognosis.”

He shrugs slightly, his shoulder bumping into mine. “Only if you’ve had all your shots.”

Stu’s scoff and offended, “Fuck off,” are nearly drowned out by my laughter. Billy sets my hand down between us carefully. My giggling fit is drawn out by the rush of fondness in my chest. These two really are so much weirder than people realize and I wouldn’t change it for anything. Wow. They really are my best friends, and maybe arguably the most important people in my life.

Feeling this close to anyone usually makes me want to be flighty. I’m not used to it when it comes to people I haven’t known my entire life, and there’s an inherent nervousness when it comes to growing attached to people you don’t completely know. It is kind of weird to feel this close to them and I haven’t even seen Billy’s room yet, so it makes sense that sometimes it feels different than what I’m used to.

“What are you thinking about?” The question takes me by surprise, breaking the easy silence that’s been carried by the soft music.

I blink at Billy’s words, a small part of me reacting like I’ve been caught doing something embarrassing. “Uh...nothing.” Fairly true. It’s not like my train of thought was focused or made much sense. Still, though, I should probably give him something more so he doesn’t assume that I’m trying to hide a mental break down. “...That you’re one of my best friends and I’ve never been to your house before.”

Stu lightly squeezes my forearm. “You’re not missing much.”

“You bit me,” I mumble, “What do you know?”

He relaxes his hold on me in order to run his knuckles up and down my arm. “It was a love bite.”

“Like a feral cat.”

Stu scoffs. “This is why Billy doesn’t want you at his place.”

Wow. Rude. I part my lips, ready to insult him. “Okay,” Billy interjects, “Don’t start again.” A part of me’s offended by the defense. I should be able to fight Stu over this. “You guys are kids.”

I glare, “Rude.”

“Fine, let him bite you again.” My nose wrinkles, but before I can say anything, Billy continues, “And he’s not wrong, you’re not missing much.”

He’s probably right, I’ve just been thinking about it a little more than usual. “Until I see it, I’m going to think that your bedsheets are bright pink.”

“Actually, they’re bright purple.”

The sarcasm comes out so quickly, so casually, I almost think he means it. “Nice try, but I’m still assuming neon pink.”

He sighs, “It’s neon now?” The question’s mumbled, and before I can say anything back, Billy sits up.

Stu turns onto his side, eyebrows drawn together in order to silently ask what’s up with Billy. “What are you doing?”

“If she’s going to make up things about my room until she sees it...” He walks away from my bed, stopping close to my door. “We should get it over with.”

Oh my god?? I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I also wasn’t prepared for the wave of excitement buzzing in my chest. I sit up too quickly, too telling. “Really?”

It’s a casual thing that I really don’t want to make weird, but I wasn’t angling to get him to take us over there. And the thought is nice, they’re my best friends and a bedroom gives insight into a person. It’s also the perfect distraction after everything that’s happened today.

“Yeah? Really?”

Billy shrugs, already reaching my door. “It’ll be better than whatever she makes up about it.”

A good point, because I was already thinking about ways to work in an assumption about him having zebra print lampshades and posters pulled from pre-teen magazines. “Am I getting that predictable?”

He raises his eyebrows and Stu tries to conceal a laugh. I roll my eyes as Billy returns the question, “Getting?”

“Haha.” Why do I hang out with them? I take back all the warm, fuzzy thoughts about them.

I push myself to my feet, looking for my shoes. Stu sits up, waiting for me to find my sneakers. Because I was planning on hiding in my room until school, I almost didn’t change out of pajamas and now I’m glad I changed into some leggings and a comfortable shirt this morning.

My shoes were hiding underneath a pillow. I free them and sit on the edge of my bed to pull them on. Stu taps my knee, getting me to turn. “What?”

He pats his lap once, implying something I don’t get. When I don’t react quickly enough, Stu sighs and bends forward. He pulls on my laces. “I can--” It’s too late, he’s already looped them once and is working on doing it again. “Double knotted?”

Stu squeezes my ankle after tying my last shoe. “You trip too much for me not to.”

I scoff, “You were almost nice.”

“I’m always nice to you, angel.”

rolling my eyes, I move to stand after Stu straightens.

“Grab a jacket,” Billy mumbles, “It’s cold.”

If my mom could see this, she’d never make another joke about him again. Actually, she’d probably say he’s one of my only friends with good sense. “Nerd.”

He gives me a more-than-slightly-annoyed look as I reach for the jacket hanging on my desk chair. I make a point of holding up the jacket before folding the fabric over my arm.

----

It’s a lot harder to not look like a little kid on a field trip than one would think. Maybe it’s the jacket that’s gone from neatly folded over my arm to a wadded up lump pressed snugly into my chest, held in place by my crossed together arm. The spring in my step could be part of the problem, a slight bounce that has to be a result of the touch of fall chilliness in the air and has absolutely nothing to do with internal excitement. That’d be way too dramatic.

Billy unlocks the door and pulls it open. Stu walks in first, I follow. We walk down a short entryway that leads to a main living area. The living area is put together, radiating a neatness that almost feels clinical. Maybe that’s an exaggerated way of taking in the precisely angled arm chairs and the glass figurine that’s sitting on the coffee table, but I can’t help the thought. It has to be a byproduct of the ‘organized chaos’ my mom raised me on, a stack of magazines in the living room that never seem to fully straighten and unmatched pillows that get paired together to tell a story.

The space is nice, though, some underlying factor I can’t pinpoint making it still feel a little homey. It’s almost like the room’s covered by an invisible cloak that makes it clear that people live here, that this isn’t some open house. I take my time looking around the room, trying to find a source for this feeling.

There are a few framed photos, but none of them revolving around family enough to offer a homey feel, just pictures of a little boy growing up. The fuzzy one of the boy at maybe the age of six stands out on the coffee table, his smile reveals a missing tooth in a way that makes it a personal favorite. For a second, I think the subtle lived in atmosphere could be coming from the few knick knacks on the coffee table and book shelf, but quickly rule that out. Sure, they’re objectively nice decorations but they don’t fit together in that way. There’s no way a dad didn’t pick them out.

I guess the feeling comes from the details. The most comfortable looking arm chair is the one closest to the bookshelf even though that corner of the room is almost a little too cramped for the two to sit next to each other. The rug matches the walls and the couch in a way that makes the cream colored pillows seem sad and out of place.

“Is it everything you thought it’d be?”

Stu’s voice snaps me out of my train of thought. I nod once, stepping towards the coffee table. My hand reaches forward, picking up the picture of the kid with the missing tooth. “Oh, most definitely.”

Billy sighs at the same time Stu lets out a quick, easy laugh. “That’s a good one.”

“Put it down,” Billy mumbles halfheartedly, but it’s too late. Stu’s at my side, taking the smooth frame. He holds it up and then down, squinting like he’s studying a complex work of art. “This was a mistake.”

I grin, “Once again, most definitely.”

“You used to be a real softie.” Stu delivers the comment in a way that feels almost factual. I bite down a joke about how used to feels like an exaggeration as Stu sets down the frame.

Billy frowns a little too pointedly. “Yeah, I was the one that was sensitive.”

I turn my head towards Stu, who’s stiffer than he was too seconds ago. There’s definitely a story there. “What’s that about?”

“Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” Stu pouts, lazily extending an arm in my direction. “He’s always been jealous of me.”

Mhm. I roll my eyes, sighing as I reluctantly step forward and meet him halfway. Stu squeezes my shoulder. The gesture is gentle enough, but I still halfheartedly try to push him off. “Yeah, jealous sounds like the right word.”

He huffs. “Don’t be mean.”

I force my thumb downwards. My nail pinches at my skin a little but it works, I get in between the fabric of my shirt and Stu’s palm. He curves his hand to give me the space I need. “I’m never mean.” He tries to squeeze my thumb down flat. “Seriously, though,” I turn my head enough to look at Billy, “Story?”

Billy tilts his head just enough for me to notice and his eyebrows pull together. The feeling that he’s silently trying to tell me something I can’t interpret tugs at me briefly. He straightens his stance before I can read too much into the look. “Imagine that with the impulse control of a seven-year-old, that’s the story.”

Stu being a former terror is a topic that’s been touched on before. Usually, the issue with befriending people that have known each other their entire lives is that you’ll never have the childhood experiences together. You’ll never know whose parents hosted the sleepovers or who had constantly scraped knees or who went through an embarrassing obsession with some child targeted franchise.

It’s a fair thing thing to be intimidated by. And normally, it’d sting from time to time, but with them it rarely does. I like hearing the stories, like the details that come up.

Stu scoffs in complaint, fighting back with renewed interest as I come close to freeing my shoulder.

“He used to have a thing for bugs,” Billy offers after a second, “Didn’t like when people would mess with hives and-and food routes or whatever.”

The hand on my shoulder nearly goes slack. I blink, twisting my neck to look at Stu, whose staring straight ahead. “Shut up.” The words come out uncharacteristically passive, and maybe even a little flat.

Picturing Stu as one of those insect fact kids wouldn’t come to me naturally, but it does kind of fit. Not the defending them, but the interest in something that gets people to react.

“Really?”

Stu sighs, “Not really.” Again, a surprisingly flat defense. “I didn’t have a thing...just thought they were...” He lifts one shoulder in a shrug, “Cool.”

“So cool you had to put a beetle in Valerie Thompson’s cubbie.”

...And there it is. I laugh despite myself, imagining a second-grade Stu and some poor girl getting into some kind of argument and then later finding something crawling between her crayons and coloring sheets. Maybe it’s a good thing we met when we did. Little me could be a monster in her own way, a way that wouldn’t have fit theres. “That poor girl.”

“Valerie Thompson had it coming,” Stu says, “Y’know what she was like.”

I don’t know if it’s weird that I assumed that Stu was talking to me or both of us instead of just talking to Billy. The comment was small, offhanded and focused on a topic only they know about. It’s fair for him to not be talking to me. Rationally, I get it. That doesn’t mean I like it, though.

I’ve seen them interact in ways that make it feel like everyone else is invisible. They get each other like that. Anyone that’s around them long enough to see them relax has to get it. It’s the kind of understanding that makes people insecure about their own best-friendship. Not that it makes me feel like that. Most of the time.

Something about it right now burns more than usual. My feelings aren’t hurt, I’m not upset because that wouldn’t be fair, but I’m not comfortable and breezy either. That just makes it worse, why does it feel different now?

Maybe my irritability is a result of multiple things. All I’ve had to today is a few spoonfuls of the ice cream that I mainly picked at so that my mom wouldn’t worry and I’ve had no water. The whole book thing has been stressful, too, and the pulsing ache of a migraine is starting to settle behind my right eye.

It was nice of Billy to invite me over because I asked, but maybe it’s too early for me to be out again. Maybe what I need is the safe enclosure of my bedroom, dim lighting, and a nap.

I try to shake off my discomfort by acting on instinct. The instinct of a feral toddler that isn’t getting enough attention. I twist my thumb, poking his hand with my nail. I’m not being mean about it, but I could have been gentler. Stu doesn’t react, which only adds to my annoyance.

My knuckles bend, giving me the space I need to get enough leverage to separate Stu’s hand from my arm. He lets me.

“Guess he hasn’t changed that much since he bit you today.”

The direct comment has me easing slightly. I get myself to smile. “Clearly.”

Billy takes a partial step forward, “You good?”

I scratch the back of my arm, trying to ground myself in the present. Be normal. “Yeah...just tired.” Which is true enough. I wipe at my face, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to control the dull pain. “And I feel like I’m getting a headache.”

He nods, expression cloudy. “You want tylenol or water or...something.”

Pull it together. I force my hands to my side as I shake my head once. “I’m okay, just spaced out for a second.”

“You need to lay down?” Stu tilts his head, watching me like a part of him thinks I could faint.

My fingertips press into my side. “I’m good, it’s just a migraine.” This is what happens when someone decides to write a book about the most traumatic thing I’ve ever gone through. “Probably just stress.” They’re staring attentively. I can’t blame them for their concern. If I freaked out right now, this wouldn’t be my first meltdown. The fact that it’s warranted makes everything feel like too much. “Can we get back to analyzing Billy’s baby pictures? I think I saw one with a pool floaty on the bookshelf.”

“Baby pictures are low tier.” Stu briefly lifts a hand before dropping it dismissively, swiping at the air. “The real making fun of Billy’s in his room.”

“Really?”

"Yep. All the angst.”

Intriguing. “All the angst and pink sheets, right?”

“Neon.”

Billy sighs once, reluctantly stepping forward. This is all out of his control now. “You two don’t need to be around each other.”

He walks past the couch, approaching a hall that leads away from the living room. Stu turns his head the second Billy’s back is to us. “So jealous of us.”

Despite myself, I smile, finally feeling a bit more at ease. “So.”

We walk down the hall together. Billy’s fully ditched us, but Stu knows where we’re going. The hall is short, we pass one door before Stu stops us in front of one that’s partially open. He opens it fully with a gentle push and walks in without a second thought.

I’m still stepping into the room when the bed creaks loudly thanks to the sudden addition of Stu’s weight. He’s making himself just as at home as he does in my room, rolling onto his stomach to reach for a pillow to tuck beneath him.

Billy sighs from his desk chair, moving his legs off the foot of the bed. “What did we say you were? Seven?”

Stu cranes his neck, glaring at Billy before relaxing again. “And a half.”

“Feels generous.” The joke comes out instinctually, but my attention’s already divided.

Billy’s room is made up of deep blue-grey walls, not quite dark but nowhere close to light either. All the furniture is made of dark wood that matches the hardwood of the floor. The room is decorated a little neater than one would expect for a teenage boy, a few posters that are sized too well to not have been picked out carefully. They’re movie themed, though nowhere near as openly gory or sexualized as the one’s in Stu’s.

Everything’s also nicely organized. Like, even more organized than my room. No clothes on the floor or laundry sitting in a basket or on a chair in a pile that’s left to grow until it eventually topples over. What I can see of his desk is also put together, no assignments or unfinished books or projects cluttering the surface.

I walk towards the bed, siting down on the edge. The comforter is navy blue and a lot softer than I thought it’d be. His sheets are dark colored, neutral plaid. Not hot pink or an obnoxious shade of purple, unfortunately. I can’t bring myself to mind being wrong. The space is really Billy in a reserved sort of way. It fits him.

“No pink sheets.” Billy’s voice snaps me out of my analysis. It’s a good thing, too, because I was probably seconds away from touching things on his bookshelf and messing with the lamp and being nosey about knick knacks. I’d feel worse about the desire to pry and investigate for entertainment’s sake if both of them weren’t constantly looking through my things.

My hand brushes the edge of the sheet that’s folded over. “Disappointing.” I twist awkwardly to better look at him. Billy’s bouncing his leg, not looking at anything in particular. “But besides that, it’s nice and not as embarrassing as Stu said it’d be.”

Billy’s eyebrows draw together, “As?”

Stu props his head up on one elbow despite the fact that most of his arm sinks into a pillow. “Look through his underwear draw and then we’ll talk.”

I laugh, surprising myself with how loud and genuine it is. The suddenness aggravates the background soreness of a headache. I ignore it. “You’ve looked through his underwear drawer?”

“It--” Stu cuts himself off with a sigh that sounds suspiciously close to a laugh, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

Our laughing fit ends as Billy stands up. “Where are you going?”

He walks around the bed, barely glancing over at me to answer, “Give me a second.” ...Okay? “Don’t look through my underwear drawer.”

“No promises,” Stu calls after him.

Billy doesn’t react, extending an arm and instinctually half-shutting the door. Stu adjusts, forcing himself to sit up. He’s farther back on the bed than me, but his legs are so long his knees are nearly level with mine. “We’re not really gonna do that are we?”

Stu half laughs-half scoffs, wrinkling his nose and scrunching his eyes together in pretend disgust. “I’m good.” I smile. “We can tell him we did, though.”

“We should also tell him we found something really embarrassing.” Stu raises his eyebrows and I immediately regret it. I scoff, reaching back to smack his arm. “Not like that, I meant like a stuffed animal or something.”

“Don’t you have stuffed animals?”

My posture stiffens, a tiny part of me offended that he’s implying that my children are something I should be embarrassed about. “That’s different.” I frown, thinking of the one stuffed animal that lives on my bed and the few that live around my room. “And you said you liked them.”

Stu never said that, but he has implied it. Nothing crazy, just a few debates between a duck my mom had given me as a child and a bear from my grandparents. He even asked about their names.

He shrugs, turning towards me. His knee taps against mine. “I’m not complaining.” I narrow my eyes, skeptical if this is leading into some kind of joke. “As long as Daisy leaves Blueberry alone.”

I fight down a laugh, because laughing would undo all of the work I’ve put in to convincing him that making up lore about my stuffed animals is something he should stop. “You made that up.”

He tilts his head, “That’s what Daisy wants you to think.”

“I don’t even think you actually remember which one’s Daisy and which one’s Blueberry.”

Stu gasps like I’ve slapped him. “Daisy’s obviously the duck with the--the sweater--blue sweater with daisies--and Blueberry’s the bear in overalls.”

This time, the giggle slips out. I’m still not convinced he’s not making fun of me in some way or setting up for some kind of joke, but the way he grins might make it worth it. “Too easy. Which one’s Jellybean?”

He presses his lips together to demonstrate serious thought. “The...bookshelf one. The bunny with the--the ears.” Stu lifts a hand, using his fingers to try to draw something long and floppy in the air. “The grey one.” I grin. “And the last one’s French Fry, the dog on your desk for good luck.”

“Okay,” I manage reluctantly, a confession pulled out like a tooth, “You did a good job.”

Stu’s smile impossibly widens, reaching forward to wrap an arm around me. “I know my girl.”

I sigh, mumbling a quick, “Not your girl.” Stu ignores me, squeezing me to him a little more confidently. “And you know I don’t actually think French Fry’s lucky anymore, he just lives there.”

He scoffs, “Don’t talk about French Fry like that, babe, all he does is guard your homework.”

I frown, craning my neck to look at him, “Are you making fun of me?”

“No,” he breathes the word out in a way that makes it feel like the opposite of what it means.

Some joke about how French Fry’s going to have to start guarding me from him is almost out of my mouth when something creeks. Billy’s opening the door, a glass in his hand. He extends the glass towards me. I take it instinctually, even though I have no idea what the water’s about.

“Drink,” Billy says, already moving to the other side of the bed, “For your head.”

Ah. Not the first time Billy’s blamed an issue on me not drinking enough water. Even though I didn’t ask for anything, the gesture makes my chest feel warm. I take a few long sips. “Thanks.”

Billy nods once, sitting at the edge of the bed. Stu twists himself to make it easier to look at Billy. “You know she just said French Fry’s not lucky.”

“Wow,” Billy shrugs, a distinctly sarcastic lilt to his shock, “That’s blasphemous.”

I roll my eyes before drinking some more water. “I just meant that I’m not like five and that I don’t actually think he can bark away the bad grades.” A barely covered laugh overlaps with the last of my words. I snap my head towards Billy. “What?”

“Bark away the bad grades?” Okay, it sounds dumb now, but when I was younger the thought of doing my homework in the presence of French Fry was comforting. A school counselor recommended him to keep me calm during tests and now he’s just a good omen. “You just--you don’t seem like you were that weird a kid and then you say--”

“I was not weird!” A little defensive for someone that was in the fourth grade with a stress plushy. “I was--I was like one of those kids that was basically an extra excited old person.”

Stu’s arm slips off me as he adjusts the way he’s sitting. “Yeah, that sounds normal.”

Really? After what’s been established about him? “Okay, bug boy.”

He glares, openly offended. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Billy’s interjection tells me that he’s hitting his petty fight limit earlier today than usual. He only tries to preemptively intervene when he’s hitting a specific wall that Stu and I make people realize they have. “Before you guys start fighting like little kids, have you had lunch yet?”

Unless you count a bowl of ice cream that ended up abandoned in my kitchen...

Stu sits up a little more, “Nope.” He turns his head enough to look at me, “What about you, angel?”

I tap my nails against my knee. “Not yet.”

“Wanna go to that pizza place?” Stu offers, already moving towards the edge of the bed to stand.

The thought of food isn’t particularly appealing, but I’ve moved past the stage of panic that made the thought of eating nauseating. What is nauseating is what could happen if I go out in public. Gale Weathers has been nonstop promoting her book. What if someone recognizes me? It was bad enough when the attack first happened and my school was buzzing with journalists...Now things are confirmed and Gale Weathers can’t keep my name out of her mouth.

My grip on the glass of water tightens, “Sure.”

“We can do something else if you want?”

Ugh...a selfish part of me wishes I had it in me to pretend not to hear the hint of uneasiness in Stu’s voice. I could shake my head and say that pizza’s good, blame my hesitance on the beginnings of a migraine and sleep depravation.

“It’s not...” Both of my hands grasp the glass. I press my thumb against the rim with enough tension to leave a red line indented into my skin. “She’s still talking about it and--and I saw some other show doing a segment on it and my name came up like three times in the five minutes that I watched.”

It’s going to take over my life. Slowly but surely, it’ll take more and more. The buzz will die down and the side stares and not-so-mumbled comments will stop, because they did before. But then the book will come out and it will start again, and by the time it stops being super relevant it’ll be linked to my identity. Colleges will see it, any job that requires a background check will find it in seconds, and all it takes is for one person to find out and then it’s everywhere.

What if I get into a great school and start making friends and then one person realizes they’ve seen my name before or looks into Gale’s career for whatever reason and then suddenly it’s everywhere? It’ll cling to me like a shadow, the label of victim the kind one and the conspiracy theorists...

“You don’t have to put up with it.” Billy’s voice is low, almost unfeeling. I don’t get what he’s saying. Billy understands my question before I can ask. “The Gale thing--if she wants to use your name every two seconds to promote her book, you should let her know you’re not okay with it. Don’t make it easy for her, you’re not helpless.”

The sharpness in his tone doesn’t feel aggressive, it’s urging. Honest. “Sorry, that was--”

“Don’t be sorry.” I mean it. The directness and the lack of coddling forced me out of my the-world-is-ending spiral. My mom’s trying to track Gale Weathers down logically, but with someone that doesn’t mind playing underhanded to get what she wants, you have to work the same way. She ambushes people all the time. “I think I needed to hear it.”

Gale’s office is probably in a public directory, and if it’s not, she’ll probably try to find me at school. There’ll be a chance to tell her off, a chance to stop her. Or at least, to get her to stop mentioning me like I’m a tagline.

“We’ll take her down,” Stu encourages, gently bumping his fist against my arm, “After food.” He stands up, the bed shifting beneath his weight. “C’mon, if anyone looks at you, I’ll beat ‘em up.”

I roll my eyes, letting Stu pull on my free hand until I stand up. “You offer to do that a lot. I think you just want to beat someone up.”

“Nah, if I did, I’d just punch Billy.”

Billy lets out an exhausted sigh as he stands. “Seriously?”

“What? I’d say I’d punch her, but she scares me a little.” Considering how often Stu and I do fight each other, I really doubt it. “She fights dirty.”

“Yeah.” Billy’s agreement comes out suspiciously fast as he opens the door. “I’ve seen her kick your ass.”

----

a/n billy and stu when someone else takes advantage of y/n’s trauma: 🤯🤬

also next chapter should be a lot messier hehehe

Taglist: @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129 @i-amnotokaywiththis @fvcking-gxddess @suckmyass-things @im-better-than-your-newborn @michibuni @bigenargy @marli-lavellan @mushy-mushroom04 @neenieweenie @lone-ray @the-ruler-of-death @andthevillainshallrises @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixbolik-bby @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @peachycupotea @my5tica1ien @agustdeeyaa @astrial @3ll0kittylvr420 @zoleea-exultant @slaypussypop-21 @aonungs-tsahik @finnydraws @slytherhoes @vxarak @xofeeeeelsxo @thewayiknowyou @yourslashersfinalgirl @winterridinghood @maggieleighc @kobababysblog @moved2burntrubbertoast @gamecrew209 @idkf-loll @wolfgirl-205 @ultimatequeenieofsass @kathanibennett @itsjuststaticnoises @brittney69 @domaniquessidehoe @kaydesssssssss @superhighschoollevelnerd-blog1 @classicbandtrash83 @itzz-me-duh

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1966 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #Poly! Ghostface x Reader #finagl girl fic

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musings-of-miss-j · 11 months ago

Text

no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

part four: in which the doctor is irritated (nothing new), you lose a rather important item and signora requests your presence

a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will most likely not be romantic interests)

notes: slowburn that makes you want to tear your hair out according to my friend, snarky reader, fluff, crack, slight social anxiety, reader is referred to as 'miss' but no pronouns, childe is pining, you are oblivious and the rest of the harbingers got a -9 on their 'how to romance your crush' exam

be sure to notify me of any pronoun slips!!

series masterlist

word count: 4433 words

author's note: thank you so so so much to everyone who has expressed interest in this series!!! a special thank you to @viridian-coffer, @nin3ss and @@vvzhyxx !!! i hope y'all don't mind being tagged but your little comments are so so appreciated <333 please continue engaging, it makes me unbelievably happy (also about scara: he's getting his own separate fic so stay tuned for that!!) quick reminder that asks and requests are always open :)

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

The mystery occupied your thoughts more than it should have; the next day at the lab you dropped a replica of a ruin mechanism you’d made and were forced to endure the agonising process of watching it shatter to pieces on the floor. You mourned its loss as you picked them up, and the Doctor muttered something derisive under his breath.

“Just what is the matter with you?” He demanded from across the lab. He was prodding away at a poor fox’s corpse, testing out yet another one of his artificial hearts. It had been difficult to hide your distress at seeing the furry little thing dead on his workbench, and this trial of his wasn’t going any better than the others; he was in a particularly foul mood.

“Nothing, doctor,” you replied, disposing of the remains of your wonderful model. It’ll take me at least a week to make a new one. Damn that mystery woman for distracting me.

He tsked, abandoning the fox and the metal parts and striding over to you.

“Are you ill? Drunk?” He leaned in close, and you stepped away until the cool bite of the marble workbench dug into your back. The tip of his pointed mask was just inches away from your nose, and you fervently hoped he wouldn’t stab your eye out with it. “Your behaviour has been irregular since you stepped foot into the lab today. Whatever instability you pose is a danger to my experiments, and unless you provide a satisfactory explanation I’ll have you dismissed for a week.”

You clenched your teeth. Such a delay would put you severely behind schedule, something he was no doubt aware of. The Doctor was knowledgeable even in the science of making highly effective threats. And invading your personal space, apparently; the hard edge of marble was beginning to bruise your back the closer he leaned in.

“I assure you that won’t be necessary.”

“Then for the Tsaritsa’s sake, stop acting like a bumbling fool. Better yet, tell me exactly what caused this deviation from your usual efficiency so I can eliminate it myself.”

You allowed a small grin to take over your features. “I'm efficient, doctor?”

“Don’t play coy. You’re well aware of your capabilities, which clearly include diverting from the subject of conversation.”

“Oh, alright.” What harm could it do to tell the Doctor about the mystery woman? You pushed him away. Or at least tried to; he didn’t budge an inch and now your hands were on his chest. You quickly pulled them away, fighting the urge to avert your gaze in embarrassment at the proximity. How adorable, he thought. “A strange woman all but interrogated me in the dining hall last night, and admitted to be disguised as a recruit. She asked me a great many questions with the air of a person who’s used to obtaining answers, but refused to divulge her true identity. I’ve been wondering who she might’ve been.”

“That is what’s been occupying your mind to the point where you fumble in the lab?” He demanded after an incredulous silence.

“A scholar’s unsatisfied curiosity isn’t the most manageable of problems.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, tracing his mask with his thumb. “My apprentice, a supposed genius, led astray by a cliché mystery.” You could no longer tell if your face was red from how close he was standing or his derisive tone; either way, you were left flustered and a little indignant at how nice the Doctor's cologne smelled. You'd expected him to stink of laboratory chemicals, but the subtle earthy undertone was rather appealing. You toyed with the fingertips of your gloves in an attempt to distract yourself from such thoughts.

With a roll of your eyes, you retorted: “She was capable of illusionary magic. Do you have any idea who she might be?”

The set of his mouth revealed nothing, but he let out a soft 'ah' of realisation.

“Well?” You prompted. “Who was she?”

“That, my dear student, is none of your concern.” He backed away from you and returned to what you considered his half of the lab.

“Oh, why the change in tune, doctor? I thought you intended to eliminate any distractions?” You tugged your gloves and turned back to the sketch you’d made of an ancient ruin in the depths of Avidya Forest. It was a prime example of how elemental magic, in this case dendro, affected physical structures and their functionality; one particular crack in the stone wall housed a Dendroculous, and around it moss and other greenery flourished although the conditions for plant life were less than optimum. The mechanism to access the ruins had also changed due to elemental exposure; when formerly it could only be activated using a key or some other specific piece, it now responded to dendro application. Fascinating. “Oh, right. Doctor, where can I acquire a mask?” you asked, flipping through the pages of blueprints you’d made to build a replica of the ruin mechanism. You wanted to see how it might have functioned years ago, and now you’d have to rebuild the whole thing.

“How should I know?” Came the disdainful reply. It had been by design that you didn’t receive a mask, after all; it would obscure your expressions and make it difficult to read you. And your eyes were too pretty to be hidden.

“Then who should I be asking if I want a helpful answer?”

He muttered something under his breath, no doubt scornful, before replying. “Regrator, I suppose.”

Another unhelpful answer, and he sounded even more contemptuous than usual. You bit back a sigh and resigned yourself to asking Childe or Signora.

You spent the rest of the day rebuilding the replica. Thankfully it didn’t take as much time and you even managed to draw up a few prototypes for the key. Which looked nothing like a key at all, more like a vaguely star-shaped disk with four distinct points, and by the time the sun slipped beneath the horizon and the sheer chill of Snezhnayan night time truly set in, you were in high spirits and reluctant to leave the productive atmosphere of the lab. You decided to write the report for the day instead of leaving, but soon encountered a problem; there weren’t any chairs in the lab. Not a single one. The Doctor was completely immersed in the mechanical heart that had finally begun to beat underneath his fingers and you doubted he’d register any questions you sent his way, and so you reverted to the tactic you’d been forced to utilise during secondary school; perching cross-legged upon the workbench. The lighting was thankfully much better than it was in the rest of the palace. No dim floating lanterns for the Doctor, no, no. Instead the ceiling was mounted with large, circular lamps that glowed anywhere from bright white to soft yellow, and you settled beneath buttery radiance that was almost reminiscent of Sumeru summers. Quiet prevailed, with only the scratching sound of your pen and the metallic clinking from the Doctor’s direction disturbing the stillness. The scene contrasted vastly to the chaos of the Akademiya’s hectic workspaces; tranquil and unhurried where the latter had been loud and frantic, with panicked students rushing back and forth between different experiments and yelling at each other when their experiments affected each other. You still resented the Akademiya somewhat for showing such clear favouritism towards the literary and historic Darshans.

Working like this, after a successful lab session with no younger students coming dangerously close to breaking your apparatus or begging for help, snow swirling outside and a lovely big workspace and minimal pressure, you could almost convince yourself that this had been your plan all along. That you were here, in the Fatui’s headquarters, because you’d wanted this position and not because you’d been afraid of refusing. It was far from unpleasant, sitting on the workbench and refining your draft for a report about a subject you’d chosen.

Until the Doctor looked up and opened his damn mouth.

“Why are you sitting there?” The way you perched on the countertop, of all places, with your legs crossed beneath you reminded him of a bird. The sheer self-assuredness could’ve been enough to make you feel as though you were committing some atrocious, unforgivable crime. Luckily, your sense of guilt had been left a little weathered after several long years of defending yourself and your research.

“Because there’s no other place to sit, doctor,” you replied without looking up.

“If you deem your work enough for the day and find yourself with enough free time to bemoan the lack of seating then perhaps you should return to your dormitory.”

Unbelievably passive-aggressive. What difference does my presence make, anyway?

“Perhaps,” you conceded, without making a move to get up.

“Oh, for the Tsaritsa’s sake. Go to dinner or whatever other meaningless rituals you practise,” he said, that special brand of casual contempt lacing his words. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be offended; you’d become accustomed to his brash mannerisms in the span of little more than two weeks. Besides, it was funny to think that he wanted you to leave so badly. You adjusted your notebook in your lap and continued writing.

“Surely you can abide my presence a little longer, doctor.”

“Leave, you insubordinate pest.”

That drew a surprised laugh from you. He was seized by the urge to make you do it again. The Doctor usually dealt in elegant, intricately-worded insults, and this outright rebuke was such a change in pace you couldn’t help but laugh. The intensity of his stare grew until you were worried you’d offended him, and you glanced up to see him standing before the array of mechanical spurs and gears strewed across his workbench, arms crossed and head tilted to the side as he surveyed you. You wished you could see what emotion was in his eyes behind that damn mask. After a few moments more of staring, you gathered he could very well be contemplating the prospect of dissecting you if you didn’t leave (really, he just didn’t want to continue one of his more gory experiments in front of you. The discomfort would surely make you clumsier, and he couldn’t have an inefficient apprentice in his lab), and so you pocketed your notebook and pen and hopped down from the abnormally high countertop.

“I shall disturb you no more, doctor,” you said, slightly amused, before opening the door with a series of complicated knocks and leaving.

You no longer needed to consult your little map to find your way; the winding corridors had lost their daunting unfamiliarity. In fact, the whole palace was beginning to develop an air of friendliness; the silver phrases in the walls served as landmarks, the floating lanterns brightened whenever you approached, and the glowing jasmine perfumed the air with its delicate scent. Despite knowing that it would be much smarter to keep your guard up at all times, it was difficult not to relax when the palace so cheerfully presented itself to be discovered and mapped.

You stepped into your room, humming absent-mindedly under your breath as you went through the usual motions after a day in the lab; hanging up your cloak, letting down your hair, checking to see if your hidden store of valuables had remained untouched during your absence, tidying the myriad of reports, articles and notebooks strewn across your desk and other such minor chores.

A peaceful evening, if it weren’t for the fact that Signora was watching you.

“So this is what the little one gets up to after a long day.”

You gasped, startled, and dropped the teapot you’d been in the process of removing from the fire. Signora emerged from thin air and caught it before it could crash onto the floor, setting it calmly down on the table. You froze, shocked and partially wondering if she was a hallucination. Her beauty certainly seemed beyond the realm of understanding; she wore a black silk gown studded with blood-red gems, elbow-length gloves and a smile glorious enough to raise the dead. She watched you try to gather your wits with a bemused expression, and when your brain finally caught up with her sudden appearance you bowed and stammered out a greeting in an attempt to gloss over your initial shock.

“Good evening, my lady.” Her smile grew; you’d learnt the correct way of addressing her. She quite liked the way her title sounded on your tongue, almost as much as she’d liked the wide-eyed look of astonishment on your face, “To- to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She lowered herself into one of the armchairs

“Do I need a reason to visit?” She asked, crossing one leg over the other and raising an eyebrow.

“You’re always welcome here, my lady,” you replied, straightening and regaining some of your composure. You busied yourself with taking out the tea set and grabbing a serving of your most expensive leaves, mostly so you could avoid her gaze and knowing smile.

“I hear you’ve taken to hiding away a servant girl in your chambers,” she said as you passed her a cup. You stiffened slightly, glancing up at her and hoping she hadn’t taken offence; just in case, you quickly cycled through potential responses to avoid an uncomfortable situation. Noticing your dilemma, she laughed and took a sip of her tea.

“Relax, little one. I can practically hear you worrying.”

You chuckled awkwardly, toying with your glasses.

“Now, I do in fact have an ulterior motive for paying you this visit,” she began, leaning back in the chair and surveying you through her one visible eye. Her statement didn’t surprise you in the slightest; it made perfect sense that a Harbinger would exercise a measure of cunning.

“You see, our yearly gala to strengthen some political connections is just around the corner.” Your brow furrowed; what did that have to do with you? “My fellow Harbingers and I would like you to attend.”

You blinked. Raised your eyebrows. Fidgeted with your gloves. Anything to fill the silence before she redacted or rephrased the statement. Your scepticism only grew when she made no move to do so, instead revelling in your bewilderment with that half-lidded look of sheer satisfaction.

“My lady, I fail to see what my presence will contribute to such an important event.”

“You’re too humble. Why, I hear the Akademiya is frothing at the mouth with rage over losing a genius like you!”

You hesitated and sat down across from her to process, refraining from pointing out that you largely came to Snezhnaya on the basis of subtle threats from them.

“Surely one needs more than intellect to gain such an invite.”

“And you, little one, are the whole package!” She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a laugh. It was odd, how she’d been stinging and harsh the first time you met, and now she was all smiles and cordiality. You wondered which side was her true one, and marvelled at how both temperaments fit her like a second skin. “It’s a wonderful opportunity to show you off.”

You stared at her blankly. It had been a long day, and you were not in the mood to engage in verbal acrobatics.

“I still don’t see the purpose of the invitation, my lady.”

She sighed. “Oh, well. Your presence is expected either way.”

You frowned. A big social event where you’d most likely be alone was not an appealing prospect. “My lady, please. I don’t think my schedule will allow for it, and I’m certain the invitation will be better received by a more influential member of the Fatui.”

“Do you plan on rejecting the invitation I went to such lengths to acquire for you, little one?”

You were trapped, and she smiled because she knew it. You let out a sigh of defeat, running a hand through your hair. “Yes, my lady,” you murmured, a touch of your dreariness seeping into your voice.

“Good, good,” she all but purred, adjusting her fur collar and rising from her chair. At least she was leaving so you could go to sleep. You followed her to the door, taking off your glasses to rub your tired eyes. The day was beginning to catch up to you, and the knowledge that you’d have to partake in a magnanimous social event did nothing to lessen your exhaustion; already you were beginning to worry about the overwhelmingly likely prospect that you wouldn’t know anyone at the gala. How bothersome. Signora paused in the doorway. “I’ll have the servant girl inform you of the details, since you’re so fond of her to the point where you’ll let her hide in your room.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. She made it seem so shameful, like an unforgivable sin that you should have been mortified to commit. You locked the door the moment she stepped out, feeling rather cheerless and vexed at more or less everyone in the palace. With a grumble, you grabbed the warming packet you’d designed in secondary school and shook it with perhaps more force than strictly necessary to trigger the flaming flower stamen within it. It was quite the handy little thing, utilising the flower’s reaction to nearby movement to heat up the agnidus agate within. You were especially thankful for it here in Snezhnaya, where the nights stung with a bitter cold that couldn’t be dispelled by a hundred blankets. At least I have a warm bed, you reasoned dejectedly to yourself, collapsing into it. Maybe I should run away and forge a new identity to avoid this damn gala.

The morning brought a splitting headache (predictable) and clear skies (surprising). No snow fell, and though the world was blanketed with the perpetual layer of white you could glimpse snatches of a frosted-over pale blue sky through the stained glass of your window; you admired it from the comfort of your bed. You moved to get up, but a precise and agonising throb in your skull abruptly put a stop to that plan, and you collapsed back onto the mattress with a pained groan. After a few moments, you tried to sit up again; your head pounded even harder, as though in warning, and an ache began to form behind your eyes. Cursing under your breath, you rootled through the drawer of the nightstand for a bottle of your special all-cure. You’d concocted it specifically for your body mass, metabolism and stomach acidity, and even done the same for a few others and sold it as a custom medicine, so it worked like a charm. If only it tasted half-decent, you lamented as its acridity burned your throat on the way down. Kaeya had likened it to drinking cheap liquor, and Kaveh had taken a similar stance. Still, they gladly asked for refills of it every year when winter struck, much to your eternal smugness.

You stumbled out of bed with a groan, rubbing the painful spot on your neck. The beginnings of a cold were settling in your throat and chest, and you resigned yourself to going to the dining hall that day to fetch a few jueyun chilis and performing a quick whopperflower nectar extraction in the lab to dispel it. How troublesome.

A knock sounded at your door just as you were lacing up your boots.

“Come in,” you said without looking up, knowing it would be Anya. She stepped inside, carrying a tray laden with a breakfast you wouldn’t eat and insist she have instead. You’d grown used to her presence, fond of her even, and you smiled at her as she walked in. With Childe in tow. Your eyebrows quirked up in surprise, and you rose to your feet and moved to grab your cloak from where it was draped across the back of your chair. Which it blatantly wasn’t. You frowned.

“Anya, Lord Eleven,” you greeted them, patting Anya’s shoulder as she walked past you to set the tray on the table in front of the fireplace. Childe eyed the motion, mildly jealous. Not that you noticed, too preoccupied with looking for your cloak. “Good morning to you both.”

Anya remained silent, clearly nervous from the Harbinger’s presence. Childe had no such reservations; he strode up to you and ruffled your hair, undeterred by your glare. He’d made it a habit, much to your chagrin.

“Why so cold, Trixy? I came all this way and all you can offer me is a ‘Lord Eleven?’”

“I suppose you’d prefer ‘sweetheart?’” You deadpanned, your tone wry. He grinned.

“I would, actually.”

You brushed his response off, rummaging through your closet for your cloak. You were beginning to get irritated; the barely-receding headache and your lost cloak weren’t helping in the slightest.

“What’re you looking for?” He asked, leaning in from behind you to survey the closet’s interior.

“My damn cloak.”

“Oh, that stylish thing? You’ve lost it?” He’d noticed you weren’t wearing it the moment you opened the door; he was surprised to see you without it. Normally you had it over your clothes, and in its absence he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on your figure. Knit turtlenecks looked unfairly good on you.

“Evidently,” you bit out, slamming the closet door shut. His eyes caught on the flowers painted at the base of it. Those hadn’t been there before; he’d know, this had been his room and he’d pulled several strings to make you its new resident. Cute. You liked to paint. You ran a hand through your hair with a disgruntled sigh, pondering your options. Or lack thereof; you’d spent a hefty chunk of mora on that cloak and you didn’t have an adequate replacement, especially considering the looming threat of getting sick.

“Damn it all,” you muttered under your breath, clipping your pocket watch onto your belt.

“What, don’t have anything else to wear?”

“No. Don’t sound so bloody smug about it,” you added. He chuckled; it was thoroughly enjoyable when you became aggravated enough to let go of just a bit of your polite facade.

“I can lend you something,” he suggested, leaning his shoulder against the closet. “For the right price,” he added with a wink. You shot him an unimpressed look, then let it drop off your face with sigh; you really didn’t have any other choice. It was either accept Childe’s help or increase the risk of getting sick by a significant margin, and catching a cold was very close to the bottom of your to-do list.

‘Alright,” you conceded with a resigned air.

“Great. I’ll be right back, then.” He sauntered out of the door, clearly pleased with himself though you couldn’t pinpoint why; he probably liked having you ask him for something, you concluded. (The idea of you wearing his clothes just excited him.)

You sighed and turned to Anya, who was hovering over the table with her hands clasped in front of her. “Thank you for the breakfast,” you said with a brief smile. “Would you eat it in my stead once I leave?”

She laughed quietly. “It’s a shame you refuse to have breakfast, miss. Isn’t it meant to be the most important meal of the day?”

“Gluconeogenesis will do just fine.” You knew she’d appreciate the joke, as she was a student in a Snezhnayan academy who’d taken the biology pathway. Sure enough, she chuckled under her breath.

“If you say so, miss.”

Childe returned a moment later with a white coat in his arms. You made to take it from him with a muttered ‘thank you,’ but instead he stepped behind you and draped it over your shoulders, gesturing at you to slip your arms through the sleeves.

“Ah- thank you, but there’s no need for that, really,” you said as he adjusted the prominent collar, a little embarrassed. He ruffled your hair, and you grudgingly let him.

“Nonsense. It looks fantastic on you, Trixy.”

You let out an amused chuckle, rolling up the long sleeves. It was clearly made for someone with broader shoulders and a taller frame than you; the hem fell almost to your knees and the seam of the shoulder was too far down your arm. Still, it was warm, and you appreciated it.

“Thank you again, Eleven,” you replied with a small, earnest smile. Childe was immensely grateful you looked away to grab some paperwork so you wouldn’t see the love-struck look on his face. You’d never smiled at him without a bite of irony before. “I’ll return it to you as soon as I’ve found my cloak.” He was almost disappointed.

“It’s no rush, you’re welcome,” he replied when his tongue finally started working again. You left the room and he followed you.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you or Lady Eight,” you added off-handedly, weaving between the crowds of people in the hallways. “Do you know anyone named ‘Regrator?’”

“Huh? What do you need him for?”

“The Doctor told me I should ask him about why I didn’t get a mask. Or a uniform, for that matter. Where could I find him? Who is he, anyway?”

Childe followed close behind you as you made your way up the spiral staircase to the lab.

“Well, Regrator is the Ninth Harbinger’s code name.”

You paused in your tracks, glancing back at him with a surprised expression.

“Really, now? Why would the Doctor refer me to him for matters as trivial as a recruit’s uniform?”

Childe shrugged. “He’s the banker, to put it simply.”

“That… doesn’t offer a very satisfactory explanation. Is the delegation of work among the Harbingers devoid of logic?”

“Sure,” he allowed with a laugh.

“Right.” You sighed, starting back up the stairs and mulling over this new information. It was unlikely you’d be able to get an audience with a Harbinger you had no affiliation with, much less for something as inconsequential as a missing uniform.

“Why do you want a mask, anyway?” Childe prodded. The world was all the better with your eyes on display, he thought.

“It’s unreasonable for every other employee to have one with me as the exception.”

“You’re just special like that, Trixy,” he teased.

“Oh, yes, I am simply bursting with individuality,” you quipped back. “The first candidate who comes to mind for exclusive treatment.” Reaching the door to the lab, you tapped the four corners and knocked twice on the centre with the knuckle of your index finger. You turned back to Childe as it swung open.

“I’ll see you in the dining hall today,” you informed him.

“Finally you decide we’re worthy of your presence! What brought about the change in heart?”

“I need some jueyun chilis from the kitchen,” you reply over your shoulder as you head into the lab.

“I’ll hold you to your promise!” He called as the door slammed shut behind you.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

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idyllic-affections · 2 years ago

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What if Kaveh's child became a talented sculptor/painter like in their teens? Say like 15 or so? Idk. That second part got me thinking so much abt them just tugging Kaveh by the arm to their next project like "OMG YOURE GONNA LOVE THIS ONE IM SO PROUD OF IT SPGUEJGEJLVWLHELHEJ"

artistic inclination.

summary. what if kaveh's child was artistically inclined?

trigger & content warnings. none applicable.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. adoptive dad!kaveh & reader. 0.5k words. they/them pronouns used for reader. this post is an expansion of what if kaveh adopted a child? author's thoughts. GOD YOURE SO RIGHT ANON I LOVE THIS IDEA ITS SO CUTE..... guys. i BEG of you. please send me asks like this. i adore when this happens. getting asks about any of my ongoing series is an absolute delight. requests are always always always welcome, but this kind of ask? this kind of ask is my favorite type fr <3

kaveh's kid does absolutely end up being good with their hands, whether that's because of the time they spent with the forest rangers or simply because they lean in favor of artistic hobbies, and kaveh himself? he is overjoyed. the fact that [name], his [name], seems to have some inherent inclination towards the arts... archons. he loves that about them. it's like they were always meant to be his child.

he loves that his kid's first instinct is to run to him when they have a sort of creative breakthrough. he loves that their first instinct is to tug him by the arm and show him what they've made, even if there's still wet paint or clay on their hands because really, it's just a shirt. it can be washed. stains are just stains. he honestly understands on a very personal level; he gets paint all over himself, too. things happen.

it's worth it in the end, because he just loves them so dearly. their joy is his joy. their sorrow is his sorrow. their feelings are his. he resonates so deeply with the emotions of everyone around him, so you had better believe that his empathy increases tenfold for his own kid. he feels their feelings as if they were his own.

he understands their joy beyond the influence of his empathy, though. as an artist himself... he's so unbelievably honored that their first instinct is to share their work with him.

art is like a little window inside the artist's mind. the things they create give their father a deeper understanding of who they are, how they think, how they feel, why they think and feel that way. an artist sharing their work is an earnest display of vulnerability.

kaveh is so enamored with the way they are so willing, so eager to be vulnerable with him in such a sensitive way, especially in their teen years. he's heard a lot of things about raising teens; teens are supposed to be... difficult, aren't they? however, [name] just isn't difficult in the slightest.

...

well, children tend to be a reflection of the parent(s) they are raised by. [name] can be sassy and sarcastic, courtesy of tighnari and alhaitham's influence, but... they aren't difficult. they are kind and emotionally aware and warm and gentle.

overall, kaveh and his little co-parenting friend group did very well raising [name].

"baba, come look! i finished that project i was telling you about. it took me a while, but i finally did it!"

this happens multiple times on many different occasions, but kaveh's reaction never becomes any less enthusiastic. it doesn't matter what may be occupying his mind at that moment. he treasures their openness and could never so much as imagine disregarding their joy in moments like that. he always replies with a smile, wiping away a little bit of semi-wet paint that somehow ended up on their cheek.

kaveh only ends up smearing it more, but the gesture is sweet and appreciated nonetheless.

"ah, really?! i'm so proud of you. i know it can be hard sometimes. let me see what you've made this time."

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#: [ adoptive dad kaveh! 🌸 ]#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #platonic kaveh x reader

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tillthelandslide · 2 years ago

Text

Insufferable Arsehole - Part 6: Inside Your Mind

A/n: Hi everyone :) just want to say thank you to everyone has read this series so far, the support means so much to me and its mad to think some of my fave writers on here think this series is good! crazy to me but thank you thank you thank you!

Hope you like this chapter :)

warnings: smut, mentions of drug abuse, addiction and rehab

over 5k words

Series Masterlist

Part 5

Their lips were on each other's again the moment they were in the hotel room, the drive to this particular hotel had been torture. She had been teasing him from the moment they got in the car, allowing her thighs to spread, dangerously close to flashing all of the boys in the back of the car. The usual tour bus wasn't needed for this seemingly short journey (one which felt far too long with how badly he wanted her)

Her lip was being abused by her teeth and he could see her nipples pressed against the "I hate Matty Healy" shirt she was wearing.

The boys kept teasing him too, commenting on the fact he seemed distracted by something. He was very much distracted: by the tanned flesh of her thighs, by the visible bruises scattered across her neck (of which he just needed to attach his mouth and maybe teeth too, darkening them further), by the fact that her underwear was stuffed into his back pocket, by her lips which were just begging to be kissed and sucked; by everything that was her.

But now they didn't have to hold back, they could simply show one another how badly they wanted each other.

"We should probably have those drinks with the boys like we said" she said as his lips drifted along her neck, down to her chest, pressing against her collar bones. The t-shirt she had been wearing had been thrown across the room as soon as they entered the threshold, as were his trousers, shirt and her skirt. She knew she didn't really mean her words but wanted to see what he said.

"They can wait, let me have you to myself for a bit" he says, lips not moving from her chest. He pulls against her bra, revealing the swell of her right breast.

"Fuck how are you so perfect. God I don't deserve you" he says, lips wrapping around her nipple, her hands fly to his hair as her head snaps back and she moans loudly.

"Can't believe I haven't seen all of you yet. Doesn't seem fair does it love?" He asks and she doesn't even know what he's saying, not really, but she's nodding against him. Now she thinks about it, whenever they've done stuff before, either one of them had been partly clothed, the thought of being completely bare in front of him has her feeling a bit nervous.

As if he could read her mind, his lips stop their ministrations as he looks her deeply in the eyes.

"You're so beautiful love. Unbelievably so. I'm the luckiest, you know that right?" He asks as he takes her hands in his, pressing kisses along each of her knuckles, it was sweet, a clear change from how they were acting earlier.

"And we don't have to do anything okay? Not if you don't want to. I'm just happy to have you here with me. But if you want to go join the guys that's fine" he explains as she pulls him into her for a soft kiss. She was growing to like this side of him, a side she was just learning about, one in which they had barely scratched the surface of.

"I want to, I want you" she says against his mouth, he doesn't speed up his movements, he simply holds her against him, his grasp firm but not harsh. His lips move softly against hers, tongue making languid movements against her own.

He slowly moves them to the bed, hands supporting her back as she fell against it with a soft thump. She knows now this was going to be different from before. And she felt anxious at the thought but was also excited to see a different side to Matty .

"Matty" she says, her voice hesitant.

"Tell me what's on your mind" he says softly, lips wandering to her neck where more soft kisses were placed. Her own hands ran down his bare back, over the muscles, sketching him out like a map, trying to memorise every curve, every bump and vein.

"I'm scared" she admits, her voice quiet. She didn't struggle to be sincere quite as much as Matty, but she always worried that her words (no matter how sincere) would be rejected, or laughed at, or worse denied.

"What are you scared of my love?" He asked. Her heart fluttered at the words "my" and she pulled him away from her neck to look at him. She didn't know whether to tell him the truth: tell him she was scared of all the feelings she was feeling, how quickly she was falling for him, how he didn't even have to say he was sorry anymore because she forgave him the minute he told her his true feelings. She didn't speak and he simply pressed another gentle kiss to her lips, trying to draw the words out of her.

"Nevermind, I'm being silly" she says and his eyebrows furrow.

"Don't do that love, don't push me away. Wish I could be in your mind right now, hear what you hear, all your thoughts and feelings" he says, lips pressing against her cheek.

"That's what scares me" she whispers, fingertips drifting along his skin, not managing to find his eyes, afraid she'll spill every single thought that was bouncing around her mind.

"What love?" His fingers find her chin, slowly lifting it so they're looking at each other again.

"Think you already know all that.... You seem to know what I'm thinking without me telling you" she says and he nods, because he felt like it was true.

"Truth is love. I hardly know you, not in the way I want to. Want to know everything there is to know, all your secrets, all the things you've never told anyone before.... Not G, not Ross... No one" he admits and her heart swells at the idea.

"I'd like that" she smiles up at him and he places another kiss on her lips.

The moment where they so desperately wanted each other seems to have passed, now replaced by one which was more special. One where they wanted to talk, about everything, and so they did, some things he already knew, things he had memorised during the time in which they 'hated each other'.

Like her coffee order, her favourite colour, her favourite flowers, her birthday, all sorts. She was surprised he remembered half of it, but the fact he had made her realise how much he truly did like her.

Matty told her everything she wanted to know too, like his favourite books, his favourite songs, stories about his childhood that she didn't get to witness. Some things he struggled to say but wanted to, like his experience with drugs and addiction.

"What's your favorite song?" He asked, something he was uncertain whether he knew.

"Hmm... Good question, what genre?" She asks making him laugh.

"Probably... Something by Fleetwood Mac. Hard to pick which, maybe Storms, Silver Springs, or Landslide" she explains and he smiles down at her. He notes in his head that they're pretty sad songs, songs about unrequited love. He wonders if that's the only love she knows, a question for another day he thinks.

"Wanna know my favourite song of yours?" She asks, hands pressing against his chest to properly look at him.

His nodding down at her, fingertips drifting along her back, the skin was warm under his touch. She had never spoken about their music to him and he was excited to know what she thought, having spent years writing songs and wanting nothing more than to pick her mind about them.

"Inside Your Mind" she asks and he smiles, a hidden meaning behind his smile.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" He asks, he couldn't wait to tell her the true meaning of the song.

"Think it's a beautiful song... Remember the day G showed it to me... Couldn't believe how beautiful it was... Remember thinking I wish someone wrote such beautiful things about me" she admits and his smile stretches wider.

"What?" She asks, wondering why he's smiling at her the way he is.

"I wrote it about you" he admits. Her breath catches and she pauses, eyes drifting over his features to see if he was taking the piss.

"What do you mean you wrote it about me?" She asks, shoving him slightly, testing whether he was being earnest.

"I wrote it about you... Remember the summer before the album was released? We spent most of the summer together... Well you with the boys more than me" he says and her mind flicks back to the memory.

George had begged her to go on holiday with them, it was one of the only times their busy schedules lined up. She remembers agreeing despite knowing Matty was going to be there. She was having a difficult time with a relationship and she wanted nothing more than to be with her best friends.

"We seemed to avoid each other the whole holiday though" she says and he smiles at the memory.

"You avoided me... I was watching your every move love. I remember it was one of the first times I really got to see you... Without all the arguing because we hardly spoke..." He admits, she allows him to just speak, not interrupting him.

"There was this one night... Don't know if you'd remember, you were quite drunk... To be fair I was high as a kite too... I remember all of it though" he laughs at the memory. She listens intently wanting to know what he's about to say.

"We were all sitting out on the patio of that house, remember the huge pool? You had your feet in the water and I remember wanting nothing more than to just go up to you and just talk, without all the arguing" she nods at this, she thinks she would've liked that.

"Anyway... You came and sat with us and we were drinking and we were all talking, it was the first time we actually properly spoke without being mean to each other. Remember you like... Squeezed in-between George and me and I was shocked I had you that close" she remembers it now and she can't help but smile at the huge smile that rests on his lips as he tells the story.

"think I remember you were particularly bearable that day so I was nice to you... Also I was high too" she smirks and he chuckles at her, pressing a kiss to her head.

"We all drank way too much and Hann forced G and Ross to go to bed, you didn't want to so you stayed" he says, she doesn't remember any of this and she feels bad.

"I thought you were going to leave because it was just us... But we spoke for quite a while" he says.

"About what?" She asks, genuinely curious as to what they would've spoken about back then.

"About all sorts: your tour, our tour, you told me about this coffee place you had found in New York, told me to visit it, you told me about some douche you were seeing at the time" she groans at the last part making him chuckle

"... And then you fell asleep on me... And I didn't wake you up because I just wanted to have you there forever" he admits and her eyes soften as she looks into them.

"I eventually took you up to your room and then wrote that song... That whole holiday I was trying to memorise everything about you, just in case I never got to see it again" he admits.

"It was the November after that holiday you-?" She goes to ask, stopping her words completely worried she was pressing on something he didn't want to talk about.

He knows what she's saying even though she doesn't say it and he nods, grasping her hand, placing a gentle kiss to the back of it, letting her know it was okay to talk about.

"Can I admit something to you? Without you... Despising me for it.." he asks and she nods.

"That summer... It made me realise how much I had fucked up... I knew I could've had you the way that the guys had you, if I was honest with you from the start... The idea of never having you kind of broke me" he admits, she frowns and she feels her heart hurt at his words.

"I always hoped that one day it would all fall into place. But you went on tour after that and I dunno... I missed you even though... Even though I didn't have you. And I kind of just... Broke" he admits, she frowns up at him. She felt like it was her fault and he's quickly pressing a firm kiss to her lips as he sees her features fall.

"Baby you had nothing to do with it. It was me... Me being stupid and selfish and getting myself into this fucking pit of misery... There was other stuff too, don't want you thinking it was all about you because it wasn't. I got to this point in my life where... I didn't like the person I saw in the mirror, the douche that had fucked up his life... And using, it just made all that go away" he says and she nods, still feeling awful for his confession. She appreciates him being honest and that overshadows his confession.

"In rehab... I kind of realised that I can either pine over you for the rest of my life... Or I can do something about it. Kind of had that realisation about a lot of things in my life. I just knew I had to fix my life and myself otherwise I risked losing all of you"

"Matty" she says softly, leaning forward to press her lips to his. Her eyes were tearing up now, and he felt a tear drop to his cheek making him pull away.

"Why are you crying love?" He asks, pulling her tightly into her chest. She knew now she didn't need to be scared about anything, he was her person. He always had been.

"I just know now. I know how you feel about me. You don't need to prove anything Matty... That- that song, that story, it's everything I need to know" she says, pushing herself away from his embrace to look at him.

"Would you be mad if I said I wanted to prove it?" He says making her laugh.

"Of course not" she says, pulling him into a hug now. In fact she loves that he still does, he could easily settle now, accept the fact that she had forgiven him but he still wanted to prove how much he cared and that was the sweetest thing.

"Thank you" she murmurs against his neck.

"Thank you for what sweetheart?" He says.

"For telling me all that" she says, she knows it isn't easy for him to be like this with people and she's so thankful she is the one he's choosing to be like this with.

"One sec" he says, going to his bag to get something, whatever is, is being clutched in a tight grip in his hand and he hesitates as he puts it into hers, clasping his hands around hers, not letting her see it yet.

"I bought you something on that holiday... I knew... Well no: I hoped, that one day I'd be giving it to you, and have carried it everywhere with me since then... Just in case I needed it" he says, removing his hand, allowing her to open her hands, revealing a gold necklace, attached to the chain was a pendant, a small letter "M".

"Matty..." she says, voice trailing off as she looked at the piece of jewelery. "It's beautiful"

"You don't have to wear it... Not yet. Not if you don't want to" he says and her eyes find his.

"just promise me something yeah?" He says.

"Anything" she nods.

"Promise me you'll wear that when you're mine. When I've proven to you how sorry I am, how I truly feel" he says and she thinks he's already proven all of that, not that she lets him know that just yet.

"I promise" she says, pulling him into another tight hug.

"Let's go join the boys yeah?" He asks and she nods, not before pressing a firm kiss to his lips. He watches her as he leaves the bed, begging her to stay there for a second whilst he grabs his phone, snapping a quick photo of her, she looked so cool, clad only in her underwear, tattoos on display, tanned skin almost tempting him again.

"You're so beautiful love, could look at you all day" he says, palms flat against the bed as he lowers his mouth to hers quickly before they finally dress and join the boys.

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

Two weeks later the band are all sitting around this huge room at one of the venues. The past two weeks have been absolute bliss, it somehow felt that they had all grown closer, they all spent every waking movement with each other, never tiring of each other. You'd think spending 5 weeks with each other, 35 whole days, would make them sick of each other, but she loved the time she spent with every single one of them.

Matty and Lou had almost been in their own little love bubble, every day Matty did something to prove how sorry he was for treating her so badly for so many years. He made her a coffee every morning, sung songs to her when they were alone, scattered loving kisses to every inch of her body he could find. Sometimes in the middle of the night when they should've been sleeping, he would tell her a story, a small fact about the old days, that just proved that he really didn't hate her after all.

The band were now scattered about the room on various sofas. Matty sits on a round leather chair, it almost swallows him, makes him look tiny in comparison.

Ross is sprawled out on the ground next to him, his legs extending in front of him as one arm rests under his head. Matty laughs at how ridiculous he looks, his head resting near Matty's calves as the two spoke, Ross's voice slightly distorted from lying upside down.

The sound catches the attention of Lou, they share a look briefly before she continues talking to George , the two laughing with each other, G's arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, the two spending some much needed time with each other (especially considering Charli had left to do her own shows) but the sight made Matty's heart swell.

"I've never seen you so happy mate" Ross says from below him, making Matty turn his attention to the lanky lad laid beneath him. The tall man turns on his stomach, looking up at him the right way round now.

"It's good mate" he then says. Matty nods, his eye wandering over to her again. He almost draws her in his mind: laughing uncontrollably with his best mate, tears coating her cheeks, a huge smile resting against her lips, those lips that he can never get enough of. Her hair is up in a ponytail, carelessly showing the bruises scattered around her neck.

"She's just the best" Matty says and Ross nods.

"She is. Thanks for that, glad you plucked your ideas up, glad we didn't lose her in the end " Ross says and Matty smiles at him "one of us forever now".

Matty nods "yeah" he has half a mind to ask her to get the 1975 box tattooed, she was part of the band after all, but she was also so much more than that.

A little while later, Ross has moved from the floor, now mucking around with Hann and George.

Matty remains in the huge chair, too comfortable to move. His phone rests in his hand, scrolling carelessly through Instagram, coming across a photo Lou had posted, the one he took, he smiles before commenting, reading his mates comments too, smiling down at his phone.

His phone pings, notifying him of a text. He smiles when he clicks on it, a selfie of the two of them set as her picture, "Room for one more?".

His eyes leave the screen, when he sees her, her own phone resting in her hands as she leans against a wall on the other side of the room. He nods and she walks over. He holds his arms out as she climbs onto the chair, he adjusts her so her legs are hung over his, holding onto her side as she rests against him. She smells faintly of cigarettes and he thinks that must have been where she was previously, but its her scent that is so overwhelming her; sweet and addictive that evades his senses.

"Hi" he says quietly, a wide smile breaking out on his face.

"Hi" she smiles.

"Missed you" he says simply, she nuzzles into his side, not saying anything for a beat, her lips press against his cheek, feeling the rough stubble he had let grow against her mouth.

"Missed you too" she pulls back to look at him, his red lips call her name and she can't help but push hers against his. His hand flies to her jaw, controlling the kiss quickly. His mouth opens on instinct and her tongue quickly meets his, moving against each other passionately. She pulls away slowly, making him groan in protest against her, only making her giggle. Oh that laugh, he fucking loves it man. He loves her.

"What was that for?" He asks, not complaining in the slightest, just curious.

"You guys are adorable" George says sighing deeply. They break away to look at him. A frown on his face.

"Fuck I miss charli' he says and they both frown.

They share a look, nod and both open their arms up, inviting him to join on the huge chair. He practically throws himself onto the pair, the both of them wrapping him up in a warm hug.

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

They were both acting absolutely feral before the show, they were annoying the shit out of everyone with the amount of sexual tension that was in the room.

The moment he walked out in his suit she felt her eyes darken, her breath pick up and her heart beat faster in her chest (and core). Her eyes raked down his form, how the shirt clung to his chest in just the right way, how his slacks fit his slender legs perfectly. He looked godly and she found herself swallowing at the sight.

He knew that look all too well and he smirked at the sight. She looked fit too: black leather skirt clinging to her delicious thighs as she sat on a high chair, her booted legs swinging, the top she was wearing wasn't particularly low cut but he could see the "M" necklace he bought her resting in between the swell of her breasts.

"Fuck" he muttered to himself, it didn't take her long to wear the necklace at all and the thought had him falling deeper by the minute.

He felt a hand clasp his back making him have to peel his eyes of her.

"Mate, we've got 5 minutes before we have to be on that stage, I know she looks fit but don't start something you know both of you can't finish" Ross says and George nods next to him. He sighs but nods agreeing with the sound advise.

His legs take him to her anyway. The boys flee just in case, getting ready to go on stage and leaving the pair be.

"Wow Healy" she says and a groan grumbles in his chest at the sultry tone she uses.

"Right?" He says, giving her a twirl, trying to ease the tension for his sake only. His eyes find hers again and he almost loses it.

He runs a hand through his curls which aren't tamed by the usual hair gel tonight and she almost pounces on him. His feet betray him and take him the rest of the way to her. His eyes land on her delicious thighs, hands finding them without a single thought. They're spread not a second later and oh how well they welcome him. His eyes catch a glimpse of her black lace underwear and his eyes snap shut.

"You're killing me here" he says as her neck strains to find his Adams apple.

"Baby" he groans eyes snapping open, their dark eyes finding each other.

"You look so good" he says, the vowels drawn out.

"You don't look so bad yourself Healy" she says, fingers playing with his curls, he didn't even see how they got there but they're curling around the strands gently, she knows she can't mess up his hair too much.

He breathes in deeply as he looks at her, breath bated and sharp.

"You look so good baby" she sighs out, repeating his words back to him, her breath hitting his lips.

"Oh fuck it" he says, smashing his lips against hers. Their tongues quickly find each other, meeting messily. He presses his core forward, his hands finding her hips and pulling her tight against him, she almost falls off the chair, but his tight grasp has her held against him, flushed.

Their make out session is quickly cut short, bells ringing to let the band know they're due to be on soon.

"Fuck" he murmurs against her lips, he sighs against her before they both pull away to go on stage.

He had clearly decided to make this show more painful for her. Particularly when he did the 'bit' on the sofa. It felt all to real when his fingers grasped the buttons of his shirt. Usually he would look up, away from the audience but this time he turned to where she was standing on the stage.

His eyes found hers, he took a puff of his cigarette, lips pursing as he blew out, he winked at her making her gasp. His hand smoothed down his chest, he only looked away when his palm lay flat against his trouser covered cock, that's when he decided to throw his head back, he purposely let out a deep sigh.

She swore she heard her name and the fans in front of her looked to her and screamed. Oh shit he said her name.

"You little shit Healy" she murmured to herself.

During the final bows, she made her way backstage and waited for him there. She sat anxiously for a while before she left, deciding to wait in his changing room. When she heard the crowd screaming loudly she knew they had left the stage.

She knew he'd rush to find her so she had to be quick. Her fingers found the zip of her skirt, discarding it. She took off her top, revealing a black lace bodysuit, something Matty hadn't seen her in before. She found one of Matty's white shirts and threw that over her frame. She heard the door slam against the wall behind her and she whipped around to seem him. His shirt was nowhere to be seen and he had already started on the buckle of his belt. He shut the door behind him and turned the lock until it clicked.

"There she is" he said, his voice deep as his eyes found hers.

"That wasn't fair now was it Matty?" She says, stepping slowly towards him. He froze in his tracks as she approached him, finally taking in her attire. A groan rumbled from his chest and his cock twitched in his pants.

"Fuck me you look hot' he says as her hands are placed on his bare shoulders. She lowers herself until she's on her knees, her lips finding his abdomen as he throws his head back.

"Don't get me wrong, you looked so fit. Running your hand down your chest like that" she said, mimicking his earlier actions.

"And the way your head was thrown back when you..." She says, her hand moving down more until flush against his core.

"But it wasn't fair Matty. Saying my name as if no one would hear" she says.

"Lou" he sighs again. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, her fingers find the zipper of his trousers and they make light work of undoing them. He helps her remove them, he knows she's the devil when her lips press against his clothed core.

"Fuck me" he says. Looking down at the beautiful woman on her knees for him, trying to commit the view to memory.

"oh I will, don't you worry baby" she says and he groans. Her hands find the hem of his boxers, pulling at them until his member is free and snaps against his abs.

This is completely uncharted territory but he's thriving off it.

"You're so hard for me" she says and he nods bashfully. She's too turned on and needs him too much to tease him, so her lips quickly find their place around his tip. The red and leaking tip disappearing against her red lips, her lipstick marking his member.

He groans and his hands wrap around her hair, making a makeshift ponytail .

"oh fuck you're good at this ' he groans. Her lips move down his shaft, all the way to the base and she moans against him, the vibrations nearly killing him. She begins bobbing up and down on him, the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat perfectly. She doesn't gag, she moans and it has Matty's stomach clenching.

"Oh fuck you're the best" he says and she looks up at him, continuing her work and making him writhe against her. All that can be heard is his deep grunts and the wet sounds coming from below him and it's like music to his ears.

"Baby I can't, I need to be inside you" he groans, she moans against him and his hands are quickly placed against her shoulders, pushing her off him until a pop sounds. His hand finds her and he pulls her to her feet, he grabs her hips and pulls her flush against him, he quickly picks her up, leading her to the countertop to the left of them. He pops open the lace bodysuit, she grasps him in her hand and leads him to her core. His tip brushes against her clit before dipping into her cunt, coating just the head of him with her juices. He gives her a look and she nods at him, letting him know she wanted this.

"Fuck you're so wet, who made you this wet huh?" He says, lips pushing against hers, tongues fighting.

"You, it's always you" she says against him.

"Please fuck me Matty" she sighs.

"oh I will' he says, a smirk resting against his lips before he thrusts harshly into her. She takes all of him and they both moan loudly.

"Oh god Matty' she moans, hands grasping at his back, trying to get him closer although not possible.

"You were made for me darling' he looks down at where they meet, nearly coming undone at the site.

He pulls back before his hips snap forward again, sending his cock deep into her. Her head snaps upwards as she screams. They moan, groan and scream in unison, his cock driving to and from her at an unforgiving pace, curving upwards slightly and hitting her gspot perfectly. His eyes are trained on where they met, the sight filthy, turning him on even more. He felt unbelievably lucky that he got to have her like this. He had never felt this good with anyone before, but he also couldn't believe how connected it made them feel.

Her mouth opens and forms a "o" as the tip of him rubs against her soft spot.

"That it baby?" He groans and she nods vigorously. He continues driving himself into that spot, the spot that has her convulsing around him. His own head shoots back now, her lips sucking against his Adams apple. His fingertips find her clit and he circles it.

"Cum with me" he says, his words sending her over the edge, he cums not a second later joining her in the white hot pleasure.

It was a hard and fast fuck, what both of them needed to shake off the tension that had started to become unbearable mixed with adrenaline of the show.

He holds her tightly against him, pressing soft kisses to her lips. He pulls back to look at her and finds her smiling up at him.

"Never going to get used to that" he says and she nods in agreement. His pulls out of her, making the both of them groan. His fingertips find the "M" of the necklace as he smiles down at her. He doesn't ask if this means she's his, because the both of them already knew that and neither of them needed or wanted to confirm it just yet. They were enjoying just figuring it out for now.

"Look pretty with my initial on you" he says and she smirks.

"Marked your territory real good" she says and he all but groans at that. His territory. Her words had basically confirmed she was his anyway.

"Spoke to the boys earlier.... We think... If you want. That you should get the box tattoo" he says and she smiles up at him. If anyone asked her about this moment, she knew she wouldn't be able to do it justice, or explain how it made her feel. It was the best thing that had ever happened to her, it let her know that she was where she was supposed to be with the people who loved her most: she was home.

"I think that's a wonderful idea" she says, fighting back the urge to cry at the sentiment.

"Now what are we going to do about the fact you moaned my name in front of thousands of people?" She asks and he laughs loudly, leaving her to get a cloth to clean her up. He's gentle with the process knowing she would be easily overstimulated. She appreciates the softness of it all, especially when he places a soft kiss on her forehead when she winces.

"That's up to you love. We can let them speculate, or we can tell them" he says and she nods, thinking through the possible options.

"Tell them what though?" She asks and he agrees, at this moment in time, nothing was confirmed, they both knew how they felt but nothing was set in stone yet, they were going with the flow.

"I don't know... But I do know I don't want to have to hide. Want to love on you whenever I want... Flirt with you on that stage and over Instagram" he says making her laugh.

"How post-modern of you" and they both laugh loudly at that.

"Well then... Guess we just let them speculate" she says and he nods at her. His lips press against hers before they both get changed, returning to the boys.

"You guys are gross" George says making everyone laugh.

"Oh shut up, we've heard much worse from you" Matty says.

"Oh Charli... Just like that" Ross says, in a high pitch voice, completely taking the piss out of G. She's thankful he's taking some of the heat off of Matty and her.

"I do not sound like that thank you very much!" He says, defensive as ever. They join the group, Lou talking with Hann about various things as Matty messes around with the other lads.

She couldn't see how this could get any better.

Part 7

#matty healy fan fic #matty the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy x ofc #matty healy x oc #insufferable arsehole matty healy series #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #the 1975 fic #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975

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tis-the-marmot · 7 months ago

Text

Just some of my thoughts on The Bad Batch finale or, well, The Bad Batch in general under the cut

You know, I can still vividly picture my old self back in 2020, awaiting Ahsoka's return when Season 7 of The Clone Wars had just been released. Then I began watching, and The Bad Batch made their very first appearance. I was like "who the hell are these soldiers, I couldn't care less about their arc. where's Ahsoka. Oh is she coming later? Fine, I guess I can put up with these clones for a few more episodes."

And as I kept watching I could feel myself gradually warming up to them. "Hm. I guess they're not so bad after all. The sniper is kinda cool. And they all have their interesting little dynamics with each other. Echo's back yippiee!! And he's joining the Bad Batch, good for him, good for him."

Still, that wasn't enough to shake my initial indifference, and I quickly went back to wanting them gone. "Okay seriously you guys have stolen too much screentime, I'm ready to see Ahsoka kick Maul's ass now, so byeee"

Who. Would've. Known. Who would've thought I was talking about the same clone squad that would reduce me to a crying mess four years later.

Would 2020 Marmot believe present-day Marmot if I told her that snarky sniper would become one of her favourite Star Wars characters? Would she nod along with uncertainty if I advised her not to get too attached to that guy with the goggles, only for her to grow fond of him anyway?

Would she laugh in my face if I counted all the occasions she would've rewatched those four TCW episodes in the future - the same ones she couldn't wait to get over with the first time - just to recall the simpler days of Clone Force 99?

How would she react if I described her excitement when they first announced that The Bad Batch was going to have its own show, and her absurd feeling of emptiness now that everything's over after three seasons?

I really wish I could delve into a deeper analysis of the last episode and comment on everything that happened, I'd really love to. But I just can't. Not while I'm still trying to process the fact that this series has officially ended.

And what a bittersweet ending to an equally bittersweet story. I've always recognised The Bad Batch for what it is, with all of its strengths and flaws, and I admit there are some narrative choices I still don't fully agree with. But despite everything this show means the world to me. The characters mean the world to me. I've seen Omega grow, change her brothers for the better and let herself be changed by them as well. I've seen how the presence, or rather the absence of certain Bad Batch members affected and shaped the rest of the squad. I laughed with them, cried with them, got frustrated alongside them and sometimes WITH them too. I will forever treasure every single moment I spent with the Bad Batch in mind, from the anticipation and the cryptic tweets the day before every airing, to reading all the different theories and admiring the fanart right after finishing the episode of the week.

Saying goodbye is unbelievably difficult, but I'm so, so grateful for the experience. The Bad Batch will always hold a special place in my heart. A heartfelt thank you to everyone involved in creating this wonderful show, and to the fellow fans who shared this unforgettable journey with me from beginning to end. ❤️🖤

#the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #the bad batch season 3 #tbb season 3

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eeunoia · 1 year ago

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ENHYPEN Series

sinag — psh.

prelude

synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.

pairings: park sunghoon x oc

word count: 2k

warnings: a contains violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some.

note: leave some messages on my ask! thank you so much for reading.

here ‹ teaser | chapter one › here

You screamed as you sat yourself up from your bed awoken from sleep by a terrible nightmare. Shaking a bit, hair messy and drenched with cold sweat, your eyes wanders around the dimly lit room anxiously. One of your hands slowly trailed towards your chest and clasped your frantically pounding heart. Being acutely aware of what happened in the dream made you so upset.

Tears formed at the corner of your eyes, unable to even think properly. These are just one of those days when you dream or more like relive what happened to you that horrifying night. Memories you wish to entomed at the back of your mind and eventually forget about it. If you can only get rid of it like magic, you would trade anything. You stood up and head towards your bathroom, bowing to your fate to go on your day like nothing’s wrong.

After taking a shower and dressed up to fully freshen yourself up before going to the office, you stopped by your kitchen for a coffee. While waiting for the beans to be ready, your mind went blank and to feel frazzled without even starting your day is unbelievable for you. The nightmare sure worked and sucked all of your energy for today.

The ride on the way to the company you work at was surprisingly short, probably because you are still out of it. When you arrived at your floor, Laurie, one of your team members, looked in distress. She was leaning over her table, hands resting over her head while staring blankly at nowhere. At the sight of you, a hint of irritation flashes through her face.

“Finally!” she exclaimed, jumping off from her seat then start dragging you towards the pantry of the office. Taking advantage of the early time and having the whole room for yourselves.

“What happened? You don’t look okay.” it was funny coming from you when you aren’t too.

She sighs and rolls her eyes, “What happened last night on your date?” her way of saying it was like an interogation. The bitterness through her tone was clear. Your brows folds and draws together, causing a crease to your forehead. It was hard for you to put the puzzle together right away.

“Huh? Last night?” your words stall at the attempt of remembering of what you did the past night.

Your brows arched after a couple of seconds, “Ah! You mean with Mr. Kang? It’s not a date, Laurie. Its a work dinner.”

The unpleasant look on her face shows off her frustrations about something. “Well something obviously happened and you did something that upsets Mr. Kang! Maybe he thought it was a date! Did he confess? Did you reject him?” she sounded worked up, trying to make you throw up answers she’s been deprived off. It was too many for you to even process it one by one.

“He invited me to go on a trip outside of the country and I declined it saying I have a boyfriend—”

“He did what?!” her eyes were big and even held both of your arms, shaking you a little. You blinked a couple of times, confused and started to feel uneasy of her behavior. You two aren’t the closest friends and she’s very vocal of her totally not liking you. She often tries to make malicious comments about how Mr. Kang has always too kind with you, envying.

“He likes you, Ae!” she says. “And now that you rejected him, he’s punishing all of us. Thank you very much!” the sarcasm was too much that it hurts your ears.

You are still confused, but you shift your weight on your other leg before trying to catch on what’s happening. She lets go of you and leaned over the counter before staring blankly at the wall like a new found habit. She looks like she’s about to go crazy any minute now.

“Why? What did he do?” the eagerment now passed on you, worried of what he possibly did that upsets Laurie this much.

She glanced at your direction, eyes shooting glares, “He wants us to start again with our campaign advertisement.”

Now that made you utterly shock. You refuse to believe what you heard from her. Closing your distance with her, you stepped once and gently grabs her arm to make her look at you.

“He can’t do that! He just approved it yesterday.”

She pursed her lips and shoved your hold off. ”He just did, Ae. He calls me a while ago and he looked so pissed.” she then lets out a strained sigh. Even without saying it straightly, you are being blamed. She’s blaming you.

“I can’t believe you flirts with him and then rejects him! Now all of us have to suffer because of you!” the veins over her neck pops out in frustration.

“I neve did that, Laurie.” you tried telling her, but she just rolls her eyes as she cross her arms.

“Whatever! Everyone here knew you’re suspicious.” she mumbles the last line. You heard it, tho and you aren’t surprised.

Your shoulder fell too as you leaned over the counter beside her. Eyes shut for a while you throw your head back and silently wished all of this are not happening. The exhaustion you were feeling before going here just got worst. This day isn’t going well for you already.

“There you are,” the two of you snaps your head at one of your workmate when she talked.

“Mr. Kang is looking for you, Ms. Lee.”

You stood up straight as you glanced at Laurie for a while. She showed an unpleasant expression before rolling her eyes in defeat. You told the girl that you will go in a bit and so she left. Laurie turns and face you.

“Go and try to change his mind! Do something, Aelia! Fix the mess you created!” her requests came out arrogantly and gave a short nod.

You feel bad that she’s making up stuff and that she’s blaming you, but you admit you felt bad for the whole team. Maybe you are at fault at some way and so you should really do something about it. You can’t just let it all put into waste.

Determined to stood your ground, you walks towards the office of your boss. His secretary’s restless expression on her face indicates that he’s probably in a foul mood. It somehow made you feel anxious.

“He’s waiting for you.” she stood up and opted to open the door for you, “He’s in a very bad mood, Ae.” she whispers under her breath as a warning that made your knees almost wobble on your way inside.

He was at his swivel chair, a folder on his hand, forehead creased while reading whatever document it is. He didn’t spare you a glance at all. Its starting to make you wonder if the guy from last night’s dinner and him are the same person. Thinking that you made someone upset pinches something in you. You hate that feeling at all.

“Good morning, Mr. Kang.” you tried to sound enthusiastic to somehow lift the mood, but to your dismay he was unresponsive.

“I want you to prepare your passport.” he stated that made you blink twice. His words didn’t sink in, totally not processing for you. Did he mention passport? Your passport?

“Sir?” you calls, baffled on the spot.

He finally lifts his gaze and eyes you with a placid look on his face. “Are you deaf? I said prepare your passport. I will send you in another country for a business meeting and a seminar.”

You have no idea if he’s just talking too fast or his words are just nonsense that’s why you cannot understand any of it. Pretty sure it was the latter as you can’t help but to start feeling irritated. He can be upset about last night, yes. But this is terribly unrighteous.

“I’m sorry Sir, but I can’t—”

“You can’t?” he cuts you off then lets out a scoff, “Are you saying I promoted the wrong person to be the team leader?” his tone taunting, sounding more like a challenge.

“N-No, Sir. It’s just I can’t go on a seminar and leave my team with all the works due.” your reason definitely makes a point, but your boss sure is determined on making you suffer.

“I don’t care. This is an order from your boss. Are you seriously reasoning out to me? I didn’t know you are this arrogant.”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to say anything that can upset him even more. He closed the folder he was holding and tilts his head to the side.

“Its either you go to that seminar or you put your resignation letter on my table tomorrow morning.”

Your shoulder fell at what you heard. He held you at gun point. You worked hard to earn the position you have right now, you did everything you could to be here and so you surely didn’t want lose this. If you think about it, there’s a lot of benefits if you go to this seminar. You’ll learn from it and it will be good to your work records, all in all you’ll gain from it. It’s just that after what happened from your last trip which is years passed already, you developed fear of going on out of the country trips. The mental trauma it caused you left a deep scar that just by thinking of being in a place you barely know cause you panic attacks. It was terrible.

Laurie was hopeful when you walked inside your office. She peeks through the cubicle like a meer cat and gaze at you with full curiosity.

“What? What did he said?” she asked.

You sighed heavily and crashed yourself over your swivel chair. The frustration, annoyance and stress slowly spoiling your mood you couldn’t even make yourself into saying it to her. Some of your team members were there as well, looking and waiting for an update. They already assumed that it didn’t go well based on how you’re looking right now.

“He tasked me to attend a business meeting and seminar outside of the country.” you mumbles that made Laurie even more confused.

“What? Why is he sending you there on a trip while we suffer here to revise everything?” she exclaimed, she’s so upset yet again.

The glares on her eyes didn’t slipped off of you. Its not surprising anymore. It often happen whenever the boss favors you, she always thinks that you are charming your way to success and that you’re being unfair. That was totally untrue. You know to yourself how much you worked hard for this. Some people just couldn’t keep their thoughts to themselves, judging you wrongly out of envy.

“It’s not a trip, Laurie. Its for business.” you tried to tell her, but she rolls her eyes and arrogantly sat back down.

“Whatever! This is all your fault in the first place! You’re making us re-do all of it while you go on a trip!” she started blabbering that made some of your workmates to stare.

You wanted to tell her that she’s wrong and that it would be more traumatic for you, but you refrained yourself. Instead, you stood up and went out to go to the bathroom. Thankfully, nobody was there so you can breath and calm down. Your mind are on a mess as of the moment. There’s just so much going on. You wanted to let it all out and to tell someone about it.

“Mom,” you calls out after she picks up the call.

“What is it? I’m playing poker with my friends! Why are you calling, Ae?!” obviously, she wasn’t interested. When did she ever took interest about your life or to you in general? Despite of it, you tried to still open up to her.

“D-Do you think I should quit my job? I’m really having a hard time.” your voice cracked while saying it and just by hearing you, a normal person will feel sympathy. It was clear as a water that you are having a hard time.

“What do you mean quit your work?! Are you crazy?! How will we pay our debts after sending you to college? What about our rent, our food? You are so selfish! You only think of yourself!” she was outrageous.

You felt your heart ache at her words. Not only that your Mom didn’t listen to your words, but she only thinks of herself. You are thankful for them for sending you to college despite pursuing the degree you don’t really like. But after graduating and working, your parents started depending on you like you’re their bank or something. They stopped working and just left everything under your care.

“I’m s-sorry, Mom.”

You have a lot of things you wanted to tell your Mother. None of it came out from your mouth. As always, you kept it to yourself. This is one of the things you hate. Your best friend always tells you that sometimes, you’re being too selfless. That you’re such a people pleaser.

A tear left your eye as you try to get your shit together.

“Stop being ungrateful and be a good daughter to your parents! Don’t give me headaches!” and with that she ended the call.

Your parents are not very fond of you. Ever since you were a child, you are by yourself. You learned things alone. Before, you tried to convince yourself that its because your parents are busy working to support your needs. Later on, it slowly dawned in you that maybe they don’t really love you. They just did what they need to do in order for them to have someone they can depend on. And they did. They raised someone with a soft heart, someone who values family so much that she will turn blind-eye to everything they do.

It was tiring, but you have no other choice. They are your family and even if they’re cold, they are all you have. Sometimes, you just wished you will find someone who will love you the way you love them.

“Park Sunghoon.” the young man lifts his eyes from the papers he was reading over to the old man who entered his office. The frown on his face tells Sunghoon that he’s clearly upset.

“You have no business in being here, Mr. Kwon.” he tried to sound casual.

“I will not tolerate this behavior anymore! My daughter doesn’t deserve this humiliation!”

Sunghoon sighs and settles the folder down to his table. “You’re the one who kept on putting her in that place. I already told you, I will never marry her.” his strict blank eyes watches him carefully, unfazed.

“You are a disgrace to your family! What kind of man will turn back to a promise? And you are calling yourself a leader?!”

Sunghoon tilts his head over to the side, “As far as I remember I never promised anything. It was my father who proposed about that engagement. I had nothing to do with it.”

“You are to follow your Father’s order! And that is to marry Luna!”

He scoffed, an unamused grin crept over his face. “I am not under him, Mr. Kwon. I don’t bow to him and follow his orders.”

Sunghoon stood up, his aura intimidating the older one. “I created my name on my own, without any help from him. Do you think I will let him control me? Nobody will ever make me follow their orders.”

“And yet you are a slave to your own emotions.” Mr. Kwon stated.

Sunghoon didn’t speak.

“This obsession you have with this girl,” he starts. “soon it will be all a waste of time. Once you realized it was just one of your rebellious stunts to prove something, you will know that marrying Luna is your best option to widen your influence and power.”

“I will do everything so you end up with my daughter.”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw and silently stared at the old mafia boss' eyes. Slowly, he grins.

“There’s only one girl that I will marry.” he says in calm yet cold tone. “And I’ll do everything as well to have her.”

here ‹ teaser | chapter one › here

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author-ssi · 1 year ago

Text

Expectancy ~KTH

{Part I}

➜Pairing: Kim Taehyung x OC

➜Genre: Soulmate AU, Fluff, (Slight) Angst, (Slight) Smut, Series

Warnings: None for this part

➜Word Count: 2k

➜Summary: The first words soulmates ever speak to one another are written on each other's body - and those very first words immensely daunt famous CEO Kim Taehyung, to the point he's dreading to meet his own soulmate.

Kim Taehyung

"I hate you"

It is believed that 'hate' is a strong word and Taehyung has come to share that belief to his very core. Ever since he dicovered its meaning, he has been contemplating on the weight such a word might carry. Usually it is used to express contempt, sometimes it can even be used to tease somebody. The second manner would be okay, however, it's the first one Taehyung has always dreaded. Can one blame him though? Any sane person would worry knowing that the first words their soulmate addresses to them could be those of hatred. Letting out a long sigh, he glances at his wrist wriggling aside his expensive watch to reveal the phrase tattooed on his skin in cursive. "Will you really hate me?", he wonders to himself leaning back in the leather chair at his office. To say he has done his absolute best to prevent those words from being hostile was a given. Aside from the values he's received from his upbringing, Taehyung had always tried to be kind and gentle to everyone he's met over the course of the years. One would call it 'pretend' if it weren't for the fact that Taehyung was genuinely a nice person, to begin with. That's why, he found it even more unbelievable that his soulmate of all people would direct those words towards him, in the first place. To the eyes of many women, Taehyung was seen as a real catch; a confident young man with an intimidating aura, a successful CEO with dashingly good looks, often wearing a serious, blank expression on his face and occasionally shooting sharp, intense stares. Perhaps, it may be the rumours of his overall demeanour and not his actual character that will displease her. That, he could handle...

From the top of the skyscraper where his personal office is, Taehyung averts his gaze to the view of the city's sprawl through the glass windows. His signature blank expression takes over his face but his mind is far from blank at the moment. Luckily, the thoughts swirling in his head are put to a stop at the sound of his mobile ringing.

"Hello?"

"Ah Taehyungie! Are we still on for tonight?"

"Yes, I'll be coming once I'm off from work..."

"Great! Could you perhaps bring some desserts? Our little Ae-cha has cravings"

"Anything for my cute little girl! I'll stop by a store to get something on my way there"

"Thank you so much Taetae! Take care! See you tonight!"

Placing the phone back in his pocket with a small smile, Taehyung briefly relishes that fact that at least he's got the two of them in his life. Sharing a bond with him that likens the one of a soulmate and being part of such a lovely family are what have kept Taehyung comforted whenever he gets desperate or depressed at the idea of never meeting, or worse, being hated by his soulmate. Sometimes, he can't help the guilt of being lulled into feeling content with this kind of settlement but, at the end of the day, he's only human - and humans dread ending up alone.

----

Leaving work a couple hours later in high spirits, the eligible CEO gets in his GV80 and drives off. On the road, he takes glances at the off-street shops searching for the one suitable to satisfy little Ae-cha's cravings. Finally spotting a decent looking bakery, Taehyung parks his car and starts getting ready to head inside. Since he doesn't want to go through the trouble of being recognised by anyone, he opts to wear a white mask and a pair of colour-matched earbuds. Entering the small bakery with a chime in the door, he looks around only to notice a single employee decorating some patbingsoo in the oven room. With a slight shrug, he begins his search to select the perfect option of a dessert for Ae-cha. Settling on some hotteok, he heads over to the check-out seeing that the female employee has returned in order to service him. To his surprise though, he can't seem to overlook the dark brunette employee in front of him. Clear, brown eyes meet his own as he hands her over the pack of hotteok. Slim, long fingers fiddle around placing the package inside a bag while he's just left observing actions. No words are spoken between them, which Taehyung attributes to the fact that the mask, the earbuds and his signature blank look don't exactly make him look like the most approchable person at the moment. After handing over the amount of money commensurate for the price of the product, he forces himself to just take the bag and leave. However, having no intention of ever neglecting his good manners, before he exits, Taehyung turns slightly around to face the female employee and utters with a small bow, "Goodnight". He would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that this girl caught his eye. But since he has no intention of further falling out with his soulmate, he's not going to make a move on any other girl. Shutting the bakery's door behind him, he's about to head over to his car but instead he's interrupted by the sound of the door's chime, that's being opened and then shut once again. Before even getting the chance to turn around, the words Taehyung has been both dreading and desiring to hear his whole life are being yelled furiously at him, "I hate you!".

Kang Mi-rae

"Goodnight"

A phrase so commonly used it barely holds any special meaning to everyone but Mi-rae... Since these will be her soulmate's very first words to her. In the beginning, she was worried; if she was going to hear that word almost every day in her life, how could she know which was coming from her soulmate? However, that worry was long gone the moment the phrase was uttered to her by a random classmate of hers during primary school. Despite him having said the exact word tattooed on the skin of her mid-thigh in cursive, Mi-rae was not the least bit alerted. That's how she realised that the word would hold true meaning only when spoken to her by her own soulmate. So, she went on with her life constanly dreaming and longing to meet her one and only, the love of her life, her soulmate... And days turned into months and months turned into years with Mi-rae threading her way through all kinds of struggles withour her soulmate by her side. Her faith on meeting him, though, had always provided her with the strength and comfort she needed to pull through them all. Her thoughts were always consumed and centered around finding him. Everytime she visited a new place or met new people, all she could think about was "Could he be here?", "Could he be the one?". One would say she was starting to get obsessed, but she had honestly tried not to put too much thought into it. But how could she not constantly look for her other half when she knew he's somewhere out there?

Growing up with watching rom-coms and reading romance novels, Mi-rae had long since prepared herself for her love story and her eagerness to experience it has never ceased. However, her patience had started to grow thinner and thinner as time kept going by and she was left to watch all the girls around her find their soulmates. Soon, her unfulfilled yearning gave way to frustration and bitter thoughts.

Is love that hard to find in this world?

Or does it come only when you don't look for it?

But how can I not look for it?

How can I let it go and move on with my life until someday I 'accidentally' come across it?

I need it now!

If I ever meet my soulmate I'll tell him that I hate him!

I hate him for not showing up earlier, I hate him for not showing up when I needed him most, I hate him for not taking care of me when he should have, I hate him for not being my shoulder to cry on, I hate him for- I just hate him!

I'll make sure to tell him that!

----

It is yet another chilly evening with Mi-rae working at her family's bakery. The small shop, well-known in the area, was passed down to one generation after the other and truthfully, Mi-rae was content with being part of the family business. Ever since she was little, she always accompanied her parents and helped them with their work at the bakery; from making soboro bread with her dad to decorating patbingsoo with her mum. She never had great aspiration in terms of a career even if she excelled at school and had the potential to study both law and medical sciences alike. On the contrary, Mi-rae desired a different and simple life; all she wanted was to have a loving family someday. She dreamt of that 'happily ever after' with her caring husband and their sweet children. Unfortunately though, without her soulmate, that dream will always be out of reach... With her tenth frustrated sigh, today, triggered by thoughts of her soulmate, she withdraws to the oven room and starts decorating some patbingsoo in order to cheer herself up. Not long after, the chime of the door from the bakery's entrance notifies her of a customer's arrival. Finishing up the last touches and placing the desserts inside the refrigerator, she heads up to the check-out waiting for the customer while slightly yet rhythmically tapping her hands on the counter.

When a tall, golden blond-haired man enters her line of vision, her tapping halts as she's about to greet him. However, be it the fact that he's wearing earbuds or that he's avoiding eye contact with her, she hesitates to do so. Simply taking the pack of hotteok he selected, she puts it in a bag after a quick scan of its bar code. Opening her mouth to state its price, she's once again silenced by him handing her the exact amount of money required. Mi-rae had dealt with rude and ignorant customers before and it had always consisted of her giving them a stern yet good-natured scolding to the point they apologised to her for their behaviour. This time, however, it was different. Observing the blank expression on this man's face, feeling his intimidating aura, glimpsing at his intense brown orbs; she couldn't bring herself to properly address him, let along snap at him. Therefore, without the both of them having uttered a single word to one another, she watches as the subdued man begins to walk out of her bakery. Letting out a breath she didn't realise she was holding back, she's about to return to her patbingsoo decorating when suddenly the sound of a certain familiar word reaches her ears, "Goodnight". Halting her step with her lips parting, a wide-eyed Mi-rae finds herself almost unable to comprehend what she just heard. Consumed by a world-shaking feeling, the phrase ringing in her ears over and over, she bolts towards the exit of the bakery.

It's him.

My... My actual...

My actual SOULMATE!

IT'S HIM!

It feels as if she is running in slow motion whereas her thoughts are running wild at the speed of light. She's finally met her soulmate! The one who's going to love and cherish her unconditionally! The one she's going to spend the rest of her days with, share a family with! The life she has always dreamt of is now within her reach! Euphoria wells up inside her at these thoughts yet the bitter memories from the past instantly catch up to her. All the times she cried over the loneliness she felt by his absence. Her hopes of meeting him getting shattered day after day with no sign of him. She suffered from that emptiness her whole life... All because he wasn't there, beside her! Once out of the bakery, Mi-rae doesn't need to think of the first thing she is going to say to her soulmate. Glaring at his back with tears appearing at the corner of her eyes, she lets out all the frustration she had in store for him in a single phrase, "I hate you!".

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