#OH ALSO WHY WOULD I BE ABLE TO “TALK TO” ONLY CERTAIN VOICES

[blitz0hno]

Adding to the ✨DID Problems✨ we deal w: having a system journal would be a HUGE waste of time if we weren't a system!! but since I Feel Like a Different Person every time I pick it up and find handwriting that is definitely not how I write (despite a lot of shared habits) it gets a little silly to be like "why did I do all this? why do I have this?"

Stop asking that lol like TF you mean "we don't know for sure?" I think we do. The symptoms don't match any other disorder bruh, not quite. We're not just "voices" in the head we all have to actively Do Things to keep this body and mind functioning. Pretty sure most people mainly got one stream of consciousness keeping track of that. We definitely aren't hallucinations because we have feelings that we distinctly feel apart from the rest of our brain, and again we're not just perceivable mentally we do things when we front. As much as we try not to (and why would we have to "try" in the first place) we all talk with noticeable differences that just come and go.

And why would I ever bother to write this much if no one else's hands touch the journal and no one else's eyes better see it? It's all "me," but it's a lot of different feelings altogether. Because I know they share my brain, but I don't feel like they are "me" at all. Even when I feel their feelings they feel different than "mine." What else could it be? come on now.

Final nail in my coffin, I know for a FACT that I don't use this blog often. But Chez does.

This has been the former host dragging himself out of denial, tune in next week when we try to finish a to-do list for once!

[1-imaginary-girl]

Wolf Bite

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: During a fight between your friends and Klaus and his hybrids, you get bit. A certain someone appears later to help heal your wounds and complicate your feelings. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Violence, fluff

Word Count: 4850

Part 2

A/N: I have been obsessing over Klaus lately and thought I would share this passion with you guys. I haven’t seen TVD or TO in a while so I apologize if I get anything wrong about the lore. It doesn’t follow any canon plot, just inspired by Klaus healing Caroline’s bite.

You’re leaning against a wall in the Salvatore brothers’ house as the rest of your friends talk about their newest plan to threaten Klaus and his family. The idea seems foolish to you, but you know better than to voice your opinion. Ever since the Mikaelson clan moved to town, being a vampire has gotten a lot more complicated. You’re suddenly not so immortal when there’s a whole group of people out to get you and your friends.

You’ve also started to notice a shift in the group as Elena now has feelings for both Salvatores. You’re well aware that your presence has slowly started to go unnoticed and yet here you are again. You watch as the group argues about how to lure Klaus and co. to the woods where you’ll meet him.

“What if we send someone to his house to deliver the message?” Elena suggests. But Stefan shakes his head.

“No, it’s too risky,” he says.

“Not if we send someone with a white oak stake for protection,” Caroline says.

“That would ruin the plan,” Bonnie says. There’s a silence as the group thinks of a new idea. Until Damon speaks.

“What if we get Y/N to call him?” Damon says, looking at you for the first time today. Your eyes widen as the rest of the group now looks at you. As if they weren’t just ignoring you.

“What? N-no way,” you say, not prepared to be put on the spot.

“Come on, he’s clearly shown an interest in you. Now’s the time to use that,” he argues. It’s true. Ever since you first met, Klaus seems to have taken a liking to you. But you think the group’s making it a bigger deal than it is. You think he just does it as a way to annoy the group. Though why he chose you instead of someone like Caroline or Bonnie, you’ll never know. 

“I don’t want to do that,” you say, not wanting to explain exactly why. You’re not even quite sure yourself. “Besides, it probably won’t work. I mean, I don’t even have his phone number.”

“Oh right,” Damon says, furrowing his eyebrows as you throw a retch in his plan.

“You could deliver the message in person,” Caroline suggests. Your jaw almost drops.

“Wait, so it’s too risky if someone else goes to the house, but not me?”

“Come on, he won’t hurt you,” Damon says. You’re beginning to think being a wallflower was the better option.

“We all have to help, Y/N,” Elena says. You choke on your words as you look around, seeing no one objecting to this plan.

“Wait, you guys my message spell!” Bonnie exclaims. Everyone turns to her and you are relieved to be out of the spotlight as you lean back against the wall. “I need paper, something to write with, and something of Klaus’s.”

Though you are currently mad at all of them, you decide you’re mad at Bonnie the least so you open your bag. You’re able to scrounge up the materials, even something of Klaus’s (you didn’t ask). With the necessary ingredients, Bonnie performs her spell and the written note lights on fire before quickly disintegrating. She opens her eyes.

“That should do it,” she says.

“We should go,” Elena says and everyone agrees.

†††

The group is waiting in the woods for Klaus to appear, as is expressed in the letter. Another argument broke out on the way here as to who will get the white oak stake as you only brought one to threaten Klaus with. The group didn’t want to risk any of the other stakes. In the end, Damon won the argument as he reminded Stefan his responsibility was to look out for Elena, which she did not like. The rest of you are armed with regular stakes just in case anything happens.

“When is he going to get here?” Caroline says, though no one answers as no one knows. “I mean, how can he even find us? We’re in the middle of the woods!”

“He can probably track us by seeking out Elena’s blood,” Damon says which angers Elena. Sometimes you feel bad for her being the only human amongst the group (other than Matt), and other times you envy her for it.

When the group is about ready to give up, you hear something coming. The other vampires can hear it too and you ready yourselves. Soon enough, Klaus stands before you with a smile on his face. “Well, well, isn’t this a nice surprise? I hadn’t realized we were pen pals,” the Original says. His eyes rake over the group and he perks up when he spots you. “Hello love.”

The others glance at you and, panicked to be on the spot again, you say, “Uh, hi,” with a small and awkward wave.

This causes Klaus’ smile to grow wider and seemingly more genuine, and you try to suppress the urge to blush. Although you don’t think your friends were pleased by that interaction.

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Stefan says, bringing Klaus’ attention back to the group.

“Ah yes, the cryptic message,” Klaus says. “So, what is it that I must see? Truly, I’m dying to know.” You see Damon smirk.

“I wouldn’t act so cocky,” he says.

“Oh, and why’s that?” Klaus says with an entertained look on his face. His face changes, however, when Damon reveals the white oak stake. His cocky attitude shifts quickly to fear and anger. “Where did you get that?” he growls.

“Well it turns out when your sister burned down that bridge, she didn’t realize that other things were made from your precious oak tree,” Damon taunts. He’s exaggerating, of course, as there was only one other thing made from the tree. But Klaus still looks fearful.

“So what? You really think you can kill me with one stake?”

“We don’t intend to kill you. At least not now anyway,” Caroline says.

“We called you here as a threat. To tell you to leave Mystic Falls or else,” Stefan says with a calm smile on his face.

“Oh, and this isn’t the only stake. We wouldn’t risk bringing all of them with us just for you to break them,” Elena says.

“You’re bluffing,” Klaus sneers.

“Care to find out?” Damon asks. You can practically feel the steam of anger rolling off Klaus.

“How dare you threaten me,” Klaus says, his blue-green eyes turning a deadly shade of yellow.

“What are you going to do about it?” Damon says with a taunting smirk. Klaus’ face shifts and he smirks back.

“Why I’m so glad you asked,” he says. He then lets out a whistle and some of his hybrids emerge from the woods. You widen your gaze as you hold out your weapon, trying to assess the situation. The hybrids move in closer, and you can see the others preparing themselves. “Now, let’s try this again. Hand over the stake, and no one gets hurt.”

You thought the answer would be obvious. Sure, Klaus might be bluffing but you can’t kill that many hybrids. And what’s one lost stake anyway? However, you seemed to be the only one thinking that.

“No thanks,” Damon says. You look at him incredulously.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Klaus says. As soon as Klaus advances, his hybrids pounce and the group is thrown into an attack. Your weapons will only slow the hybrids down, but your best hope is to get the upper hand and snap their necks to incapacitate them.

Damon and Klaus immediately face off. The rest of you prepare to face the small army of hybrids while Stefan protects Elena. One of the hybrids locks onto you and hisses before attacking you. You instantly try to hold the hybrid off and stab her, but you can feel her overpowering you in strength.

Still, you rely on your moves in combat to avoid any major injuries or worse, her bite. You manage to get the upper hand and stab her through the stomach, and while she’s slowed down, you move to behind her back and snap her neck, knocking her out for a good while.

You’re trying to catch your breath when you sense another hybrid coming at you too late. He pounces on you and you slam into the ground with him on top of you. You’re caught off guard and without your stake. When you try to move to fight back, the hybrid digs his teeth into your shoulder. A short scream rips through you, powered both by panic and pain.

Meanwhile, Klaus is fighting Damon when he hears the scream. He looks your way as he feared it was you, and the scene causes his eyes to widen. With a newfound urgency, Klaus faces Damon and quickly finds a way to snap his neck.

As you’re panicking from the bite, you feel the hybrid being pulled off of you and you see Klaus with a furious expression. The hybrid is very confused by his sire’s anger. You think you hear Klaus growl, “Not her,” before snapping their neck.

You’re shocked at what just happened all at once and remain on the ground, sitting up with wide eyes looking at Klaus. He looks away from the hybrid to meet your gaze and his eyes instantly soften. He looks concerned, though you’re not sure why. He makes a move to walk toward you but before you can say anything, Caroline rushes over to you.

She quickly puts herself between Klaus and you. “Stay away from her,” she hisses at him. Klaus’ expression shifts back to anger, and before you can explain to Caroline what’s going on, Klaus’s gaze flick from her to you and then he sprints away. Not just away from you, but he leaves the forest. The hybrids that haven’t been incapacitated follow.

You look after him, longing to talk to him and figure out why he saved you, when Caroline’s face comes into view. “Are you okay?” she asks while helping to pull you off the ground. You nod and you guess that’s enough for her because she walks towards the rest of the group.

You’re a bit stunned as Klaus seemed to show more compassion than your friend, but you merely shake off the exchange. From the woods, the group heads back to the Salvatore’s place. You trail behind them, your mind racing as you’re overly aware of the fact that a werewolf bit you. Not just a werewolf, but a hybrid. You haven’t told your friends about it because you don’t want to be a bother to them as that’s all you feel like you are these days.

On the way back, your mind wanders to the one person that seems to be on everyone’s minds these days. Klaus. You don’t know why he saved you, even from his own hybrid, but you want to thank him. You know you should hate him like the others do but for some reason every time that man looks at you, your stomach erupts into butterflies.

You feel awful for how you feel, you know all the harm he’s caused to your friends and not to mention the world, but you can’t help it. It doesn’t help that he pretends to be soft on you either. You haven’t told anyone about your feelings, whatever they are, for fear of persecution but you can’t stop thinking about him.

You arrive at the Salvatore’s and the group huddles in the living room for a quick debriefing of what just went down. All the while images of Klaus and your bite flash through your mind. You look at your shoulder and you can’t see the full damage as it’s covered by your shirt but you know it’s not good.

“How are you holding up, Damon?” Caroline asks teasingly. He glares at her and rolls his neck.

“Doing just great thanks,” he says.

“What the hell even happened?” Elena asks. “I mean, why did they just leave?”

“All I know is, one minute I’m holding my own against Klaus--” Damon says and to this you hold back rolling your eyes. Klaus must’ve been going easy on him, toying with him. “--and then he gets this raged look on his face and boom, lights out.”

“He went to Y/N,” Caroline says causing all of their eyes to stare at you again. You bite back your annoyance at her for bringing that on you.

“What happened?” Stefan asks while the rest of the group waits. The image of Klaus looking at you causes your face to heat up and you struggle to come up with a lie. You don’t want to tell them the truth when you yourself haven’t even gotten to the bottom of it.

“I-I don’t know,” you say. They still stare at you. “Maybe he was mad at me for harming his hybrids.”

“There were two knocked-out hybrids beside her,” Caroline adds. The group looks at you with a mix of shock and amazement.

“You knocked out two of them?” Damon asks with surprise and slight amusement. You don’t want to outwardly lie so you just kind of nod.

“And then he just left,” you say.

“It still doesn’t make sense. I mean, why target you specifically?” Bonnie asks.

“Maybe he’s miffed his lover betrayed him,” Damon says and your face turns beat red.

“W-What?! I am not his—” you burst out in surprise until someone cuts you off. No one even looks your way.

“Or maybe he’s planning something,” Elena suggests. The rest of them start diving into conspiracies but your mind is elsewhere. You suddenly feel drawn to look at your bite. The more you look at it, the more it’s like you can feel the venom pumping through your veins. Your heartbeat is suddenly too loud and you feel like you can’t breathe.

You don’t know if it has something to do with the venom or just your overall panic, but all of a sudden, the world goes black.

†††

Your eyes slowly open and your vision is blurry at first. Figures stand over you and after blinking a few times, you recognize your friends.

“She’s awake,” Elena says, as if everyone isn’t seeing it for themselves. You realize you’re lying on the Salvatore’s couch. You wonder how long you blacked out for.

“What the hell Y/N?!” Caroline instantly yells at you. You flinch at her volume but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Why didn’t you tell us you got bit?”

At the reminder, you look back at the bite only to see that its gotten worse. You wince at the sight of it and face the group. You guess they discovered it when you passed out.

“I don’t know, I-I thought I could handle it,” you say, not wanting to admit the real reason. Most of them roll their eyes at you.

“Of course you couldn’t handle it!” Damon says. “You should have told us.”

I didn’t know you cared. You bite your tongue to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, losing interest in the conversation as you are now painfully aware of the venom from the bite.

“What are we going to do?” Bonnie asks. They begin to cut you out of the conversation even though they’re talking about you and you decide you can’t deal with this right now. You stand up from the couch, feeling a bit of a head rush before steadying yourself. This seems to draw their attention.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Stefan asks, as they all look at you with bewildered expressions.

“I’m going home,” you say and start to walk away. Unfortunately, they follow.

“You can’t just go home!” Caroline exclaims, reacting as if you just said you were going to the moon.

“Watch me,” you say, your frustration getting the better of you. You try to make your way towards the door but a few steps in you stumble and Stefan speeds over to steady you.

“Okay, we’ll take you home, alright?” he says and in that moment, you’re grateful for him. He turns to the rest of the group. “We can regroup at her place and brainstorm ideas there while keeping an eye on her.” The rest of the group seems to agree with the idea. In separate cars, the group drives over to your house.

Soon you’re pulling into your driveway. They’ve all been invited in before so entering isn’t a problem. With Stefan’s help, you climb the stairs and soon find yourself in your cozy bed. You wish you could just sleep away this problem but a sudden sharp pain from the wound reminds you that isn’t possible.

“So what now?” Elena asks as the group piles into your bedroom. It feels weird and you’re slightly uncomfortable with it but you keep quiet and just get under your inviting covers.

“Maybe we can ask Klaus for help?” Bonnie suggests. At this, Damon instantly scoffs.

“Yeah that sounds like him,” Damon says.

“Maybe he’ll do it for Y/N,” Caroline says. “He does have a soft spot for her.”

“I don’t know if that’s enough for him,” Stefan interjects. “We all know what he’s after.”

“No,” Damon says. “We finally have a real weapon against those Original assholes and I’m not just going to throw it all away for—”

“Damon,” Elena hisses and nudges him in the chest before nodding over to you. Once more, all eyes are on you and you don’t know what to do. Damon looks away, maybe feeling guilty for basically saying you’re not worth it.

“Why don’t we continue this conversation downstairs?” Caroline suggests. You once again wonder why they’re talking about this situation without you but you’re too tired and hurt to care.

“We’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Bonnie says and then the group filters out closing the door behind them.

Throughout the day a few of them check in on you every once and a while, barely giving you updates on if they’re going to find a cure. As your pain grows and the sky darkens, you start to think that maybe this is it. Maybe this is how you die. You never imagined it happening like this and your chest caves in at the thought of a final death but it’s looking more and more likely.

You’re not sure what time it is, but later in the night you hear a faint knock which sounds like it’s coming from your front door. You ignore it, not having the strength to answer it. You figure one of your friends will answer it. If they’re even home.

The knock sounds again, louder and more persistent, and you start to suspect that your friends have left. You take a deep breath as fear coils around your throat, constricting your breath. Your friends aren’t here and you’re going to die all alone before you even got to live. The knocking stops and you settle back into the silence.

Then a sound comes from your window. It sounds like…knocking? From your bed, you can’t see the outside since it’s too dark out. You wish your friends were here. Slowly, you climb out of bed and try to rally your strength in case you have to fight something or someone. As you walk over your confusion only grows.

There, perched on a branch from the tree outside your window, is Klaus Mikaelson. He gives you a wave and you hesitantly wave back. You approach the window cautiously before opening it.

“Um, can I help you?” you ask, trying to understand what you’re seeing. Hallucinations are a side effect of wolf venom, right?

“Well hello to you too, love,” he says with a cheeky smile on his face. His eyes roam over your body and his smile falters. You suddenly become aware that this is the closest you’ve ever been to the Original. You try not to let your cheeks flush.

“What are you doing here?” His smile drops entirely, noticing your serious demeanour.

“I’m here to help. Now if you could just let me in—”

“Help with what?” His face becomes grim as his eyes trail over to your shoulder. It’s now out in the open as you’ve changed into pajamas. You then remember that he must’ve seen the bite when it happened.

“Your wound, love.”

“Why…why would you want to help me with that?” you ask. Then a thought occurs. “Wait, have my friends spoken to you?”

His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head. “No, I haven’t heard from them,” he says and though you can’t say you didn’t expect it, your heart drops at hearing it. “Wait, do they know about this?”

“Um yeah.”

He looks angry as he asks, “And where are they now?”

You look at the floor and try to keep your embarrassment inside. “I don’t know, I thought they would’ve contacted you.”

“Apparently not.” His face is still twisted in anger although you’re not quite sure why. Then he looks at you and seems to remember why he’s here. “So, can you let me in?”

The thought of having Klaus Mikaelson in your room makes your heart beat faster. And though you want to give in, to continue living your immortal life, you hesitate. “Why should I trust you?”

“What?”

“How do I know if I let you in now, it won’t come back to bite me in the ass?” you ask, your arms crossed.

Klaus doesn’t seem to understand your concern. “Love, you realize that’s a hybrid bite. I don’t think you have the time for this.”

“So you admit that you would use it later?”

His face scrunches up. “That’s not—no I wouldn’t do that—just please let me in,” he says, giving you a sincere look that threatens to break down your walls. Just as you’re about to question him more, a wave of pain washes over your body. You let out a groan as you slightly stumble back. “Y/N?” The pain grows more intense and you let out a whimper before you collapse onto your knees. “Y/N!” It’s as if your body is at war with itself and you can feel every impact of it.

“You have to let me in, just say the words and I can help you. Please!” You hear Klaus say from the window. But it’s hard to find words when the pain is so intense. You want it to stop. “Y/N!” You hear him bang his fist against the walls of your house.

You slowly lift your head up to see his worried face, desperately waiting for you to let him in. You no longer care if this will come back to haunt you. You take a few deep breaths before you say, “Come in.”

As soon as the words take effect, Klaus rushes into the house and scoops you into his arms. You clutch at his chest, not thinking of anything but the pain. He carries you over to the bed and gently places you down before quickly running over to the window to close it. The pain seems to be dwindling down but you know it’ll be back. Your whole body is so weak, you used the last of your strength to walk over and talk to Klaus.

Speaking of, he’s quickly back at your bedside, eyes furiously scanning you for signs of physical distress. Then his eyes lock on yours and you feel your breath hitch. “You have to drink my blood,” he says quietly to you.

You know that that’s the cure and that it will save you, but you’re still hesitant. This is Klaus you’re talking about. The big bad hybrid who’s been attacking your friends and causing chaos for weeks now. And yet for some reason, a part of you wants to trust him. A part of you wants to give in to the idea that he could be good. But how can you trust him when you can’t even trust your own instincts?

He must sense your hesitation, because he leans down to look into your eyes. When you look at him, you’re stuck by how truly beautiful he is. His eyes are a beautiful blue, but more than that, they hold a look of sincerity in them. “I know you don’t trust me, I wouldn’t either,” he says. “But this is what’s going to save you. So please, take a chance. What have you got to lose?”

He does have a point.

“I don’t want to die,” you admit in a small voice. Your breath stutters as you let the fear bubbling inside of you rise to the surface. Klaus’s look is sympathetic.

“I don’t want that either,” he whispers. Your eyes meet and you feel caught in them. “Let me help you.”

Maybe it’s because this is a different, more sincere side of Klaus that you’ve never seen before. Maybe it’s because your friends are gone and you’re feeling vulnerable. Maybe it’s because your instincts seem to have aligned. Either way, you nod your head.

He offers you a small smile. He then sits on the bed and gently shifts you so that you’re leaning against his chest. You’re too weak to move yourself. Klaus rolls up his sleeve and bites down on his wrist before bringing it close to your lips. You’re tempted but look at him to make sure it’s okay first. He nods and you sink your teeth into his wrist.

At first, you feel weird about the situation. But then you lean into it and begin to enjoy it. Klaus whispers encouragingly in your ear as his blood enters your body. You can feel your strength begin to return and the fog in your brain clear. You almost don’t want to stop, and the way Klaus is petting your hair doesn’t help. But eventually, you know you’ve had enough, so you pull away.

“Wasn’t so bad, eh?” Klaus says and you look up to see him smiling down at you. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so.”

“Then I guess my work here is done.” He moves you so you’re lying back on your bed, but when he moves to leave, you grab his arm. He looks back, confused.

“Why did you do that?” When his confusion doesn’t clear, you clarify. “Why did you help me?”

He looks down at the floor and his lip twitches into a smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, love, but I quite fancy you. Wouldn’t want you dying on me before I’ve had a chance to win you over.”

His words shock you enough to let go of his arm. The strangest part is that he looks sincere about it. “But…you actually like me? Like, that wasn’t all an act?” you ask. Both of you seem to be confused by the other.

“Why would I do that?” You start to feel embarrassed.

“To—to get on the group’s nerves? To throw us off?”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might just like you?” To be honest, the thought hadn’t occurred to you. Trickery made more sense.

“Yes,” you say and then wish you didn’t. “I—I mean, why me? Why not Caroline or Bonnie?”

“Besides the fact that you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on?” he asks and you’re suddenly glad it’s dark because your cheeks are on fire right now. “Because you’re different.” That doesn’t make you feel so great. He must have picked up on that because he catches your eye and says, “Because you’re better.” The idea makes you flustered, that anyone would think you’re better than them, let alone a powerful hybrid like Klaus.

“I still don’t understand.”

“Hmm.” He seems to think on what to say before smirking. “Then I guess I’ll have to do a better job at showing you.” When he winks at you, you think your face might be on fire from how hot it is. Once again, he turns to leave.

“Thank you,” you call out which makes him stop in his tracks. He turns around to face you and seems confused by your words. But you mean them. He didn’t have to save you, you gave him nothing in return, and yet he did.

He smiles and you think it’s much better than the fake ones he gives to the group. “Of course love,” he says. “Couldn’t have my favourite vampire dying on me.” You give him a smile back, genuinely happy to hear someone say that to you.

Then your eyelids begin to feel heavy and you have to blink rapidly to stay awake. Klaus sees this and says, “Goodnight, my love,” before opening your bedroom window.

“Goodnight,” you say back as you watch the window close. You lay back down on your bed, thankful to no longer be dying. You guess you have your new saviour to thank for that. As you close your eyes, you can’t help but see Klaus in a different light. Not as a villain, but as a complicated man. You don’t think your friends are going to like your change of heart, so for now you’ll keep it to yourself. You’ll be content in knowing that maybe the big bad hybrid isn’t so bad after all.

[lidiasloca]

what do you think about azriel x reader that has daddy issues, like she does small things to try to make him proud and at first he thinks she’s just being cute but he realizes the depth and her need for praise and what’s going on and just reassures her. like he immediately knew why reader was so attached to him when they first met, and he just took on the role as her provider and protector🧎‍♀️i’m just literally projecting😀

reader with daddy issues in a relationship with az

azriel x reader

a/n: this is not exactly what you ask for, but my mind clang to this scene very fiercely. maybe not entirely daddy issues, but definitely issues ig. ps; i plan to write a headcanons burb about this.

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You and Azriel had been seeing each other for a while now. Though he was falling more and more in love with you with every passing day, and so were you, deep down, you felt like you were also growing attached to him in a very particular way.

You tried not to look too deeply into your heart, to avoid understanding the needs that only your partner seemed able to satisfy.

Things like the constant reassurance of his touch—whether it was holding hands, tracing patterns on your back lovingly, or caressing your thigh when you were at dinner. Anything that involved his familiar, scarred hands touching your skin—you needed it.

You guessed it was because what you truly needed was to know he was there with you. Azriel, the male who protected you as if it were his sole duty—you needed to be certain he was with you.

Because of this, you had grown accustomed to his words of love. You always had a voice in your head asking, “Why does he take such good care of you? Why would he choose to love and protect you?” And that voice could only be silenced by his sweet words.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much, I don’t even know who I’d be without you. I wouldn’t even want to be someone, I think,” he’d tell you as he hugged you tight.

“That was impressive, Y/N. How did I ever get so lucky that the best Valkyrie noticed me?” he’d ask.

“You are doing great, love.”

“You are so talented.”

“What did I even do to deserve you?”

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

Those words he would say, you repeated in your mind like a mantra, rejoicing in the memory of him saying them.

But the joy of his love wasn’t enough to make your worry disappear. And so, you kept growing more concerned about him noticing your neediness.

And your biggest fear finally came true one night at dinner...

“Hello? Y/N?” you heard Azriel’s voice from the kitchen, where you were cooking a special dinner for him.

“Here!” You heard his tired footsteps follow your voice. “Hi, Azzie, how was the mission?” you asked sweetly when he leaned in to peck your cheek.

“Good, I guess,” he said weakly, but then he peeked from where he rested his head on your shoulder at what you were cooking. “That’s my favorite,” he mumbled, as if talking to himself.

You smiled sweetly and stopped stirring the soup to turn to your mate. “It is.”

He returned your smile, but there was a genuine sweetness that could only be found in an innocent child. “I love you,” he whispered.

You flushed, looking down at your feet at the sound of those words.

But he went on, pulling your chin up so you met his eyes. “You are too good to me. Too good for me.”

No, you were not.

“I love you,” he concluded.

I love you.

He didn’t. He didn’t. You just made soup. It probably wasn’t even good. He’d probably hate it. But he was too kind to tell you it was terrible. Just like he was too kind to tell you he didn’t actually love you. He didn’t. The soup was terrible.

“Y/N,” he whispered, wiping something wet from your cheek. “My love, what did I say? Why are you crying?”

Oh.

You were crying. “What?” you blurted. “Nothing. It’s probably the onions.”

He didn’t buy it one bit. And though to be loved was to be known, you only found fear in your mate knowing every bit of your soul just by looking at you the way he was watching you now.

“Y/N. You... Is this because of what I said? What I say?” You didn’t dare reply, so he continued. “I see your face change every time I tell you I love you or praise you. Or when I…” He sighed and brushed his hair back. “I don’t know.”

More tears were running down your cheeks. You hated seeing him so defeated and knowing it was your fault. “I’m sorry.”

He met your crying eyes in an instant. “Don’t. Love, don’t be sorry. I’m not mad, and you did nothing wrong. It’s just—I want to understand you.” He put his hand back on your cheek as if he knew how much you needed it there. You immediately leaned into the warm touch and saw how his eyes registered your reaction.

He knew. By the way he assessed you, you knew he had already figured you out. And to your surprise, the thought made you feel free.

So free that before you could think about it, your mouth was speaking of its own accord. “It’s the way I need to feel love. It’s rare,” you said, embarrassed. “You surely must have noticed it already. The way I need certain things from you…”

“Touch,” he said softly, and you weren’t sure if he was asking or simply reflecting on memories that proved what you were saying.

“Yes. Or having you around the house most of the time. Or… words of affirmation.” You were sure your face was wholly red, but, on the contrary, Azriel was all ears, no trace of judgment in his honest eyes. “I can't help but balk at your confessions, but—I… I love them deep down. Most of the time, I need to hear them. It’s... It’s terrible. I’m just very… needy.”

You wanted to run out of the room.

“I understand,” he said tenderly. “And this is nothing to be embarrassed about. Everybody has different ways they want to be loved.”

Oh.

“It’s a relief you actually like when I tell you those things. And that you love to be near me so much. Because I want to give you that, Y/N. I want to do everything you need to feel my love for you,” he explained gently.

You were left speechless.

“But know one thing—I love you no matter what, and despite everything. If you don’t have my hand to hold someday, I want you to still be certain I love you. If I don’t praise you someday, I want you to know you are brilliant. And if someday I don’t tell you how much I love you—Gods forbid that happens—know my feelings for you are just as strong.”

You were a sea of tears at that point. “Please promise me,” he asked.

“Promise you what?” you mumbled weakly.

“Promise me that, at every turn, you’ll know I love you. Promise me, Y/N.”

-Characters by Sarah J Maas

HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3

and you can also request any fic idea you have through my inbox so i can write it down :)) i much appreciate requests for azriel and other acotar characters

[retrievablememories]

cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

--

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

--

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

--

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

--

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

--

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

--

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh.  while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

[yourmidnightlover]

(You don’t have to do this) Xavier Thorpe x reader

The try not to kiss each other challenge on tiktok

ahh YES! i hope i brought your request to justice

i'm gonna take this as like a lovers to friends to lovers kinda thing bc there isnt enough of that going around with our beloved xavier

i also wanted to let y'all know that i am working through my requests! inspiration strikes at odd hours, and i'm trying to delegate all of my time respectively to all of the fics i'm working on. but i assure you i will work through everything!

tension

paring: xavier thorpe x reader (duh)

summary: after months of flirting, your friends take matters into their own hands and dared you to do a tiktok trend.

warnings: kissing, tons of tension (also duh),they're cuddly? i don't think there's really anything else but let me know if i've missed something!

it had been months and months of flirting between you and xavier thorpe. consistent, unending, raw flirting. this included the batting of eyelashes, shoving of arms, longing stares, buying of gifts... everything. the whole shebang.

and god, were enid, ajax and wednesday tired of it. wednesday constantly wanted to claw her own eyes out when she saw you. enid thought it was cute the first two months, but after that she was only confused as to why you would never make it official. and ajax would just tease the two of you. he voiced his concerns with xavier, occasionally with you, but mostly with xavier. he would mostly talk about how dumb he was to not just ask you out or make it official.

so, as enid was scrolling through tiktok, she stumbled upon a certain video of two friends... or mayabe they were more? either way, they were sitting in front of each other, and each one moved closer to the other. the premise was whoever breaks the tension and kisses the other loses, she guessed?

regardless, there was tension and there was a kiss and that is exactly what needs to happen with you and xavier in order to put everyone out of their misery.

so, she sent the tiktok to ajax and wednesday, the message reading:

weregirl: OMG! we've got to get them to do this! they'd totally admit everything!

middleoftheweek: this is repulsive to watch, but i hope it will be worth it as long as they get whatever they need to out of their system

snakes4hair: if this gives my boy the push he needs to make a move then i'll do basically whatever

and just like that... the game was afoot.

"dude," ajax was laughing at the lunch table. you had thrown your legs over xavier's lap, your head resting on his shoulder as he played with your hair. "there's this new thing i saw online the other day. enid sent it to me, and i doubt you and y/n would be able to do it," ajax chuckled as he looked towards enid.

"oh, definitely not," enid shook her head exaggeratedly. "they'd never be able to do it."

"do what?" xavier spoke up as he took a bite of your sandwich.

"yea, do what?" you perked up at the idea of a chellnege. "we could do it, right?"

"hell yea," xavier nodded as he pat your thigh. "we could 100% do it."

"i don't think you could," wednesday said curtly, sneering at both you and xavier's closeness. "at all."

"yes we could!" xavier removed his hands from your hair, throwing them up dramatically.

"alright," ajax spoke up. "i dare you to complete little challenge. you have to record it though, as proof, and post it."

"deal!" both you and xavier looked at each other, giving each other a high five that only resulted in your hands holding.

later that night, you and xavier had retreated to his shed as he painted before they sent you the video you had to recreate.

"seriously?" you scoffed. "they're just sitting there looking at each other with music playing," you looked at xavier as the video played.

"wait," he pointed at the screen. "they're like inching closer to each other. like one does and then the other."

"but why?" you got your answer less than thirty seconds later. "oh..." you glanced at xavier, who bit his lower lip before glancing at you with a smile.

"i never back down from a dare," xavier shrugged as he looked at you.

you nodded, "neither do i."

after setting up the camera with the video on the three-minute setting, about to start recording. you were sitting on the mattress that you had both smuggled in his shed, the one that used to be rowans before... well. yea. both sitting across from each other, your legs were overlapped with each other's. then, the music started playing.

at first you were both smiling, giggling, even. you inched closer to his face first, around 10 seconds after the music started. your faces seemed closer than they ever were before, and that's when the smiles faded and the tension built.

he reached around you and pulled you on top of his lap for his move. the longer this went on, the more it felt like a game of chess, only physical. you swore you could see every shade of green littering his irises. his cologne somehow radiated around you. you made the mistake of looking at his lips, curiosity getting the better of you. he was gently biting his lower lip. it was almost as if he wanted you to kiss it better.

then, you placed your hand on the lower side of his face, nearer to his neck. you could feel his pulse rate picking up. it was exciting to see what kind of power you had over him. you could now feel the way you affected him. now, you saw as his eyes went to your lips which only made you smirk that much more.

he used both of his hands to bring your face right in front of his. he was everywhere. to your side, you would see his hands. his hands took up nearly your entire face, and you loved the way they felt against your skin. part of you never wanted them to leave. you could nudge his nose with your own if you even slightly moved. you were getting close to losing this whole game. you wouldn't. you couldn't.

you tilted your head to the left, bringing your lips closer to his own but not touching. you were so close you could practically breathe in each other's air. you could feel his pulse pick up once more before you licked your lips, you felt his chuckle radiating around your head. but when you looked in his eyes you felt something totally different. it was heavier. it was more.

then, with a mumble, "screw it," he pulled your face into his own, kissing you with all the tension he had built up over not just the past two minutes, but from the past months of doing nothing.

your hand moved up to his hair, running through it like you had so many times. in this context, though, your hand running through his hair was so, so much different. it was much more intimate.

you let his tongue into your mouth happily, nearly breaking the kiss with how big of a grin you had on your face. one of his hands moved to your waist, wrapping around you like the warmest hug you've ever had. your other hand was holding the hand still on your face. you meant it when you said you never wanted them to leave.

truth be told, you never wanted him to leave. you never wanted to stop kissing him. you've wanted to for months on end, but you were too scared of being rejected. you thought he was joking about all of the flirting sometimes. the touches, everything. but this kiss felt more real than time.

"i think i won," xavier whispered as he went up for air. you shook your head.

"i think ajax won," you chuckled as you both began to laugh. "him or myself, of course," you rolled your eyes.

"we all won," he compromised.

"stupid tension, huh?"

[ponderingmoonlight]

Geto's sister melting like butter in Toji's hands

Pairing: Geto's sister x Toji; (Geto's sister x Geto brother dynamic; Geto's sister x Satoru lil flirt)

Word Count: 2,6k

Synopsis: When your brother and Satoru arrive at Jujutsu High with the star plasma vessel, things start to get heated. But instead of running away like you're told to, you follow your brother. Only to be alone with a certain someone...

Warnings: we're talking about Toji so the usual, (y/n) is ducking weak in this one, not 100% proofread bc I'm lazy

„Where is your smaller version?“, Yaga barks at Suguru.

“My smaller version? You mean (y/n)?”

“Hehe, sounds like she’s your child”, Satoru comments while giggling.

“I guess she’s training right now. And also, she’s older than me. Why?”

Suguru was never keen about you joining Jujutsu High in the first place. But the second you realized that you are able to see courses just like him, there was no going back. It’s only natural that he’s worried about you, right? Especially when he and Satoru were sent here to guard the star plasma vessel…What do you have to do with this? Isn’t his teacher aware of the fact how dangerous this mission is for a first year student?

“Get her here right now.”

Urgh, this doesn’t mean anything good. Does he have any chance to escape this though? With a sign he gets moving. Nope, a glimpse into Yaga’s serious eyes is enough to get that he doesn’t stand a chance against his will.

Why you, though? Yes, you are quite skilled for being in your first year, but so are Haibara and Nanami. So why does it have to be you? What does this man have in mind for you?

“Got ya!”, you cry out while Yu’s body lands on the floor harshly.

“How did you beat me again?”, he presses out, rubbing his aching head.

“Because you weren’t paying enough attention”, Kento remarks dryly with that signature bored expression craved into his face.

“I think (y/n) is just a way too great opponent for me.”

“Oh, don’t make be blush.”

“(y/n).”

That voice that makes you instantly roll your eyes without even turning around. What the hell is your brother doing here again?

“What do you want?”, you groan.

“Yaga-sensei sent me after you. I guess you are assigned for a mission”, Suguru replies, completely unimpressed by your snarky attitude.

A mission? Your head darts towards him immediately. A mission with Suguru? He is on his second year, more than skilled enough to fulfill even difficult missions on his own. So why would Yaga-sensei ask about you and not Yu or Kento?

You don’t care that much to be honest. The thought of going on an important mission alone makes your body tremble in excitement. Even if it means your brother has to accompany you.

“Will Satoru be there too?”, you purr.

It’s way too fun to mess with your brother. When it comes to men, he always widens his eyes in disgust before crossing his arms and glaring down at you.

“Don’t get stupid ideas. I hate that you are flirting with my best friend”, he remarks.

“It’s not my fault that he looks so damn fine.”

“Stop the crap”, he spits at you while you smile widely.

Oh, how much you love to mess with your big brother. Since he is your only sibling, you take your responsibility of teasing the heck out of him very seriously. Especially now that you are living the same life.

“There she is”, Suguru mutters, your figure appearing behind is tall frame with a triumphal smile.

“Hi Satoru”, you hush towards the white haired boy who smirks at you.

“Hi (y/n), looking good as always”, he flirts back, sliding down his sunglasses to catch a better glimpse at you.

“Can you two please stop before I’m losing it”, Suguru grumbles.

“I agree. (y/n), you will assist these idiots by escorting the star plasma vessel to Tengen-sama.”

You can’t believe your ears, cheeky mouth not daring to speak of. Assisting both Satoru and Suguru at once? By escorting the star plasma vessel of none other than Tengen-sama?

This has to be a dream, a stupid joke they play on you. Yes, you are a quite skilled jujutsu sorcerer, maybe better than the other first years at this point…

But are you this good? So good that you are able to keep up with Satoru and your brother?

“This is something very big you’re asking for”, you reply automatically, all eyes darted towards you.

Damn, this doesn’t sound like your usual confident self at all, even Suguru doesn’t recognize you. Without hesitation he steps to your side, placing his hand on your shoulder gently while beaming you with his smile.

“Satoru and me are here, too. You are the backup plan if something goes wrong.”

“And nothing will go wrong. Don’t worry (y/n)”, Satoru adds.

Yes, nothing will go wrong, right?

- the arrival of Suguru and Satoru at Jujutsu High –

“You sure took your time getting here”, you comment dryly, on the brink of falling asleep at the entrance of Jujutsu High.

“Oh my, you look like death warmed over”, you holler towards Satoru.

Damn, you thought they went on paid vacation without you. Why the hell does he look this bad? The dark circles under your brother’s eyes tell you how stressful these last day have been.

“You’re safe now. No need to waste your energy anymore, Satoru”, you speak out.

And with that, the glow in his eyes is gone.

Just seconds before he gets stabbed by a stranger.

Your eyes widen when reality hits you. A dagger pierced through Satoru’s chest.

The Satoru Gojo.

Your brother’s best friend.

Your gaze darts towards the tall man behind him. Who the hell is this guy? And how was he even able to get through the barrier in the first place? You hold your breath, mind racing in thoughts. This has to be a bad joke.

“Satoru!”, your brother cries out, on the way to sprint forward before he is stopped by his best friends words.

Save the star plasma vessel.

Escort her to Tengen-sama.

“I’m coming with you”, you breathe out, following your brother’s steps right on track.

“No way in hell. You go back where you came from, (y/n)”, he hisses.

What? He can’t be serious, right?

“Yaga-sensei put me here to help you escort the star plasma vessel. What makes you so entitled that you think you can just send me off like that?”

Your brother turns around, eyes glistening with so much rage that you have to swallow. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, storming towards you without slowing down.

“This isn’t a joke, (y/n). If that man was able to break through the barrier and hurt Satoru, he sure as hell is able to kill you right on the spot. Get out of here right now, I couldn’t stand losing you”, he barks into your face along with grabbing your shoulders roughly.

“Fine”, you mumble.

With one last spiteful glance at you he’s gone, taking the girl and the woman with him.

That man.

Your eyes dart towards him and the way his muscles flex underneath his tight black shirt, showing every single vein of his well-trained body. How old is he? Must be in his 20s, hard to say when he’s moving so fast that you aren’t even able to follow his movements properly. It’s safe to say that he’s looking like a snack, though. So different from all the guys you’ve met at Jujutsu High.

“Get out of here, (y/n)!”, Satoru yells at you, ripping you out of your daydreaming so violently that you flinch.

Urgh, how unfair. First you get assigned with this job and now you are supposed to stay out of line?

No, certainly not.

With a swift motion you start to run away. Not in direction of Jujutsu High, but following after your brother’s scent. After all, Satoru will get this man down easily, will he?

What a shame about his pretty face, though.

You stop in a long and poor lit hallway, tingling senses telling you that something or rather someone is behind you.

Could it be Satoru? No, you can not only detect his scent, but recognize him by his long and slouchy steps. Whoever this is doesn’t belong to Jujutsu High. But why on earth would a stranger come here?

“You’re in the way, y’know.”

That voice. Your eyes widen instantly when he steps out of the shadows, well-trained figure lit up ever so slightly.

It’s him, the man from before. The gorgeous man who fought Satoru only a few minutes ago.

“You came here to see me?”

To your very own surprise, your sturdy voice doesn’t give any hint of the panic flooding your veins. Why the hell is he here? Does this mean that…

Satoru lost?

“You’re pretty easy on the eye, gotta give you that”, the unknown man in front of you remarks with a sly grin.

You seem to be pretty young, uniform telling him that you’re a jujutsu sorcerer yourself. But that look in your eyes, the color of your hair…

“Have I seen ya before?”, he questions.

“Unfortunately not”, you purr.

You begin to circle each other, like a predator he lingers over you.

Something about the way he carries himself tells you that he isn’t someone to mess with, the darkness in his eyes almost swallowing you whole. Yes, this man is bad news even though you can’t detect any cursed energy on him.

“Oh, you look like that guy before…What was his name again?”

“Yeah, he’s my brother”, you clarify briefly.

“Ah, gotcha. Where did he go? I need to kill that brat he has with him.”

“Why chasing after him when you can stay with me instead?”

You know it’s reckless, that the man in front of you could possibly kill you without flinching. But every precious second you are able to negotiate for Suguru is important right now.

He comes closer, his tall frame roaming over you while you shamelessly stare at his gorgeous, yet bloody chest. Damn, this man really is attractive. Why do your knees suddenly feel so weak?

“I’m no one to mess with”, he remarks.

Your back hits the cold wall behind you, his muscular arms trapping you in place. Fuck, this is so hot.

No, this is absolutely dangerous.

“I know”, you breathe out.

His eyes linger over you, the little scar on over his lips twitches in amusement. One look into your glossy orbs is enough for Toji to be aware of the fact how unexperienced you are. Even though you try to straighten your shoulders and keep eye contact with him, he can see the way your limbs are trembling and how your knees are about to give in. You look young, maybe a few years younger than himself. And your body…he can tell you are trained underneath that uniform. After all you are a jujutsu sorcerer, right?

A little playing doesn’t hurt as long as he’s able to kill that little brat.

“Aren’t ya a little young to get killed? Wouldn’t take me much to do so. Killed that Gojo guy too.”

His words hit you with full force.

He.

He killed Satoru.

“That’s impossible”, you whisper.

No one was ever capable of killing Satoru. No, this can’t be true, he has to mess with you. Satoru is the strongest along with Suguru, the gifted child.

He…he can’t be dead.

But why isn’t he here then? How is it even possible for this force of a man to stand in front of your very own eyes if he’s lying? Satoru would have chased him down, fulfilled his mission no matter what…No, this can’t be…

“Can show ya. I mean it’s quite nasty, but if you want-“

“No”, you interrupt him immediately.

Fuck, what are you supposed to do? Stand here and wait until he gets bored? Fight him?

You clench your hands into fist. One swift motion. One swift motion of your fist should be enough to send him flying.

“Cute”, he comments, catching your hand mid-air with ease.

Fuck. Ice cold sweat runs down your neck. This man is a menace. There’s no way in hell you are able to defeat him.

Suddenly he pulls you closer to him, the heat radiating from his body seems to burn right through your soul.

“Who the hell are you?”, you mutter.

“Toji Fushiguro”, he remarks.

Toji Fushiguro. You never heard his name before and the fact that you can’t detect any cursed energy on him tells you that he isn’t a jujutsu sorcerer.

“Y’know, didn’t think I’d meet a hot girl down here”, Toji comments, amusement sparkling in his eyes when catching a glimpse of the blush creeping up your beautiful face.

Oh god, you feel like fainting with his tall frame lingering over you so unpromising. Despite being around gorgeous men all the time, no one ever caught your eye enough to be this close to him.

But this man…You shouldn’t like the way his touch brushes over your skin, making every fiber of your being shiver in excitement. No, you should tear yourself away from his grip, fight him, kill him. You are a jujutsu sorcerer, Toji Fushiguro killed Satoru and is on his way to kill the star plasma vessel and who knows even your brother. This is so wrong, him touching and teasing you shouldn’t cloud your senses.

“Be as charming as you want, I can’t forgive you for killing Satoru.”

He tilts his head to the side, a playful grin playing around is lips as one of his hands wraps around your neck, pressing gently.

“What a bummer, thought we’d have a good time here”, he replies.

Oh god, what happened to your self-control, what happened to your self-consciousness? You can’t act like a horny teenager only because a handsome man is touching you.

What’s going on in your beautiful mind? Seems like you’re lost at words. It’s nothing new to Toji that women fall head over heels for him, especially the ones who are into guys like him. But you look so innocent, that spark of determination in your eyes gone with the wind. Yes, you are like butter in his hands. The things he could do to you right now, showing you just how much of a man he is.

“You’ve probably never been with a man, huh?”

You stare up at him in disbelief. How did he know? Your heart hammers violently against your ribcage, mind not able to produce a single logical thought. He is so near that you’d be able to touch his broad chest ever so slightly. And the way his fingers press against your neck…

You’re doomed.

“Thought so. How’s it that a hot girl like you didn’t get it yet? Could show ya how it’s done with my very own hands...”

“I know what you’re doing. But I can’t let you get through this door, you can’t reach my brother”, you whine more to yourself than him.

Huh, that’s why he was here. Toji signs to himself, already aroused by the way you blush and whimper under his touch. How much he’d love to just stay here and show you how it’s done. To see your eyes roll into your brain in pleasure, how you squirm under his merciless touch.

But he’s got a job to do.

“What’s your name?”, he purrs against your outer ear, making shivers run down your spine like waterfalls.

“(y/n) Geto…”

“(y/n)”

Your own name sounds so strange coming out of his dangerous mouth.

“I promise I won’t kill your brother, but I gotta go now. Hope to see ya again. Sleep well.”

Before you can react any further, his flat hand rams itself into your throat that you get consumed by darkness immediately, numb body falling against Toji’s firm figure.

Carefully, he lifts you up and carries your body with him, casually placing you over his broad shoulder with your head hanging down his back.

“Now let’s get to work”, he mumbles, smacking your ass slightly.

[diremoone]

better | gojo satoru.

a cute short story in honor of my nephew being born on Mother’s Day, here’s a snippet of something cute (but it’s published a few days after Mother’s Day lol). Also, feels like I haven’t written in 100 years and I’m constantly rusty so I’m sorry if this is bad lol.

w — UNSEALED! Gojo, fluff, adult/minor relationship, former! teacher/student relationship, post-canon, takes place about seven years after the Culling Games and JJK storyline, Reader is 23/24

Satoru’s newborn son felt like a feather in his arms.

He’d never tell anyone (Shoko might would) that he was absolutely terrified when he was first given his son — his firstborn — to hold after coming out of you. You, of course, got to have skin-to-skin contact with Seiji first. (To which Satoru managed to snap a few pictures.) But when you were done holding him, it was time for him to hold his child. And he was downright terrified.

At the time, every bad thought entered his mind.

What if he didn’t hold him right? What if he squeezed his son too tightly? What if, God absolutely forbid, he dropped him?

No. No, that wasn’t going to happen. He was the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alive, for crying out loud. Why wouldn’t he be able to hold his newborn child?

Satoru was surprisingly glad his overconfidence kicked in, because holding his son felt like a dream come true.

A few months have passed since the first day he’s held Seiji — since his son has been born. And nowadays, he’s absolutely certain he wants at least ten more.

Well, five at the least. Considering he’s not the one carrying the babies and doing all the hard work and labor; of course, he was going to ask you first.

But he’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice your presence. Not even his Six Eyes or inhuman-trained senses seem to acknowledge you’re in the room with him. Not until your voice gently cuts through the air.

“Satoru,” you say, “you should be in bed.”

“I’m good,” he reassures you, eyes not leaving the sleeping boy in his arms. “I’m good. I’m fine. I’m just watching him.”

“You’ve been watching him for nearly half a day. You need rest.”

“I don’t need to sleep,” he tries to argue in a soft voice. “I have the Limitless. I don’t have to have sleep.”

“But Seiji would want his father to sleep.”

And of course, your words strike him exactly where they needed to be struck. And you continue to talk, driving that nail that needed to be struck even deeper.

“You don’t have to shoulder everything anymore. Not like you used to,” you murmur. “There’s more First and Special Grade sorcerers a than there have been in a long time, myself included.”

Satoru had bragging rights against his clan. (Well, rights to say that his wife was extremely dangerous and would be the first to come and annihilate them if they did anything to Seiji.)

You had been the one to annihilate the Elders during the time of the Culling Game, and they stood absolutely no match against you when it had happened. He recalls Maki saying that she’d never seen her kouhai — or anyone really — that angry.

So, Satoru was more than happy to make the Gojo Clan understand you were just as equally of a threat as he was if anything happened or they tried something to your son.

“I just don’t want to miss anything. Not a single thing. Not even him wiggling his eyebrows in his sleep,” Satoru admits, the last part making him smile. “And if that means using my powers to stay awake all the time, I’m fine with it.”

For a man that’s been so closed-off with his emotions for well over a decade, you’re so glad to see and hear Satoru being this open. Vulnerability has never been his strong suit, but over the last few years, he’s been allowing himself to be more vocal.

The only problem for the rest of the world is that he’s only that open with you — his wife. And his son, of course.

You obviously have no problem with that.

Seiji coos, garnering his parents attention. He squirms in his father’s arms, stretching his legs.

“Oh, hey buddy,” Satoru whispers happily. “You’re awake!”

You love the big, excited grin that stretches across your husband’s face as the baby moves. The light of fatherly love in his eyes makes your heart soar and tears form in your eyes.

You remember when Satoru was terrified about becoming a dad. You remember the times where he feared becoming his own father. The man wasn’t like the usual physically abusive father you’d seen in a stereotypical show or movie. He was, technically speaking, but it was with sorcerer training. And even though Satoru didn’t show it or tell anyone, you knew bits of his younger years haunted him.

There had been long and deep discussions about his past and how he’d handle those things if they ever came up. There were also lots and lots of reassurances on your part, telling him that he’s already nothing like his own father.

Satoru would burn the world for his little family, and that was something you both already knew — something his father would never do.

”I think he’s hungry,” you comment softly.

“Want me to get the milk from the ready?”

“Please.”

Satoru hands Seiji to you like he’s made of glass. And somehow the bottle is done within a few minutes. Seiji just chugs away at the bottle, downing it faster than you’ve seen him since he’s been born.

Satoru gives a low whistle and chuckles. “Damn. He’s hungry.”

“And he’s eaten recently, too,” you add.

Silence, save for the sound of Seiji drinking from the bottle, takes over the room. But it’s not the bad, deafening kind. It’s the kind that’s focused, beautiful even. And if anyone were to step into the room of your family of three, they’d understand why.

“Thank you, [Name].”

His voice is full of love. When you look up from Seiji and into Satoru’s eyes, you see that it’s there too: the unconditional love for you and the sweet infant in your arms.

“For what?” The question comes out, but you’re sure you already know the answer.

But the second you ask, Satoru lifts you into his lap and you squeak. You knew he had always been this strong, but goodness. The amount is strength and ease he used to lift you made blood rush to your cheeks.

A sweet kiss on the cheek. “For being there with me.”

A sweet kiss on the other cheek. “For staying by my side.”

A long, loving kiss on your forehead that made you close your eyes. “For marrying me and being my wife. For giving birth to Seiji,” he mutters against your crown. “But most of all: for loving me. For loving me as I am, and for helping me become better. Better for you, for Seiji, and for myself. For helping me be a good dad for our son.”

Hot tears line your eyes from Satoru’s declaration of devotion and passion. You had no idea this was what you’d wake up from your sleep to. If you had known, you certainly would have prepared your heart just a little more.

“Oh, Satoru.”

You wrapped your free arm around his shoulder to try hug him. He helps, pulling you as close to him as possible, careful to not squish the cute sleeping baby between you.

“I love you, too. I love you so much, Satoru. We’ll always drive one another to be the best versions of ourselves. I’m your wife, and I’ll always be here. I have no intention of leaving your side. Ever.”

You share a slow Eskimo kiss, but Satoru’s lips mischievously steal a kiss anyway and it makes you giggle.

He glances down at Seiji, and then grins a grin that you means he’s gonna say something you’re going to smack him for.

“We make some really cute kids, don’t we? Wanna have ten more?”

Okay, no smacking. Sending him through several concrete walls should definitely suffice.

taglist:

@torusbabygoat

[ edited 12/20/23 | dividers belong to @/saradika-graphics ]

[aphroditeinthesea]

“ guilty as sin ”

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

if there’s no such as thing as bad thoughts, why is y/n feeling so guilty? | pt. 2

⚠️ cheating, swearing, breaking girl code, make out, sexual insinuation & while i was posting this there was random lightning and thunder so took that as a sign that this was pretty good

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first thing Y/N noticed about Jason was his girlfriend. Okay, maybe that wasn't the first thing, but it was up there. Maybe the first thing she noticed was his hair, the way that sun shined around it, making his aura glow. Or maybe it was the way his eyes were so vibrant that she felt like she was drowning in the Blue Nile. Or, gods, his muscles. The way his shirt was barely able to conceal his abs. Then, his absolutely beautiful girlfriend, who surprise, surprise, was a daughter of Aphrodite.

Of course she knew she had to keep these feelings locked inside a vault. Especially at how she so easily befriended Piper, who if she knew about these feelings, would have Y/N’s head. But how was she supposed to? Whenever she saw him, basically doing nothing, her mind already had images of him flashing in her mind that she tried so desperately to flick away.

But once the feelings had gotten too intense, she had to tell someone. So she turned to the wisest person she knew, Annabeth Chase. She decided to walk to the Athena cabin after training. She found the blonde reading a book on her bed. She approached her, speaking up, “hey, can we talk?” she looked around, “privately?”

Annabeth nodded before leaving alongside Y/N. She led her to cabin 3, which was uninhabited since the disappearance of Percy.

“What’s wrong?” Annabeth began.

Y/N sighed before explaining the ordeal to the girl. Excluding certain fantasies about the boy that not even Zeus himself could get her to confess.

“As a girlfriend of a guy who everyone has a crush on,” she began, seeming annoyed at her own statement, “don't act on it.”

Y/N nodded, “yeah, I could never act on it, I mean, Piper’s my friend,” she paused and looked up at the daughter of Athena, “I’m not a bad person am I?”

“There’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.”

But after a few months. After they found out the memories were fake, that Jason was a Roman demigod, that there was no relationship to begin with, Y/N had the guilty hope that they would break up. But no. Instead they continued dating? She was furious, while also hating herself every second of every day. She had thought that maybe after all this time the feelings would go away. But they didn't! They wouldn't! They couldn't!

Every time she saw the two of them together, she wanted to vomit. Especially when they’d act all couple-like and kissing and hugging and standing within a ten foot radius.

One day at archery practice, she was about to shoot, when she saw the couple walking nearby. She immediately sunk into herself. She drew back her arrow, sulking, until she heard a loud, “ow, fuck!”

She looked up, realizing that she had accidentally shot the foot of the son of Apollo that had been helping her. She gasped, “oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”

He sat on the grass, holding onto his bleeding foot, “dont worry about it,” he hissed through the pain. A few other campers ran over to help him over to the infirmary.

She awkwardly looked around, unsure of what to do.

“What happened, Y/N?” The sound of Piper’s voice behind her caught her attention.

She paused, looking up at the blond boy before back to Piper, “I got distracted and, uhm, accidentally shot him.”

“Is he okay?” Jason questioned.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she brushed off, “a little arrow in the foot never killed anyone.”

“Achilles would beg to differ,” he remarked with a smirk. Gods, that was going to be the death of her, The way his scar curved with his mouth. She liked to imagine he got the scar in a battle to the death against a Roman beast- or whatever, she didn't really understand what happened at that camp, other than the fact that they had really hot guys.

She must have been staring for too long as Piper looked back up at her boyfriend herself, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N panicked, “I should go see if he’s okay,” she ran off to the direction of the infirmary.

“You shot someone in the foot?!”

“Annabeth, I really don't feel like talking about this right now.”

“No, Y/N,” she stood in front of Y/N, “why?”

“Jason-”

Annabeth shook her head, “he has a girlfriend.”

“I know, that’s the problem-”

“She’s not the problem, Y/N,” the girl interrupted again, “you're being so immature, you have to get over this.”

Y/N turned around to see Piper and Jason laughing about something. She looked back at Annabeth, “I’ll try.”

That next week, she had gotten a date with a son of Hermes. It was a nice date, too. A picnic on the dock during the campfire.

“I was originally born in Minnesota, but then we moved to New Hampshire-” his voice was drowned out by her thoughts. She felt so… faithful to Jason. If it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow? She felt like he had written ‘mine’ on her upper thigh in her mind- “what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve never been to Michigan.”

He raised an eyebrow, “I asked if you liked strawberries?”

“Oh,” she looked at the strawberry she had accidentally crushed in her hand, “yeah.”

“You don't like me, do you?”

She shook her head, “no, nothing with you. You're great, this picnic is amazing, I’m just… I am so in love with one of my best friends’ boyfriend. I’m just trying to get over him.”

“Jason?”

She looked at him, her mouth agape, “how did you…?”

“A good guess.”

She hid her face in her hands, tears welling in her eyes, “am I allowed to cry?”

He pulled her into a hug, “go talk to him.”

New advice? She’ll take it!

She stood up, “I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, promise!” she claimed before running off to the fire. Everyone was beginning to disperse, when the blond hair caught her eye. She rushed over to him, “I need to talk to you.”

He looked confused, but nodded, leading her into his cabin, “what’s up?”

“I have a huge fucking crush on you,” she blurted, “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. And I thought that if I told you, it would go away. I’m sorry.”

He stayed silent for a minute, thinking. He ran his fingers through his hair. Did everything about him have to be this fucking hot?

“I have a girlfriend.”

“I know.”

He shook his head, “no, I need to remind myself of that. Y/N,” he walked closer to her, taking her hands in his, “I really like you, Y/N.”

She let out a deep breath, “Jason, that doesn't help.”

“It doesn't help me either, that’s why I’ve been trying to ignore it, but,” his right hand let go of hers, finding its way to her lips, “look at you.” He slowly leaned down to kiss her. Once, twice, thrice, four- over and over again. She wasn't even sure when she was suddenly pinned to his bed as their kisses got messier. His fingers traced the skin under her shirt, sending shivers down her spine, gasping when he would zap her.

“Jase,” she breathed, “this is really bad.”

He bit her bottom lip, “I know, we shouldn't-”

She kissed him again, “no.”

He leaned back, “Y/N, we really can’t.”

“I know, I know,” she heavily breathed, “but what are you saying?”

He stood up, forcing his glasses back on, “I need to go talk to Piper,” he grabbed her hand, helping her up, “go back to your cabin, let’s just forget about this.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please, we can talk some other time, but please, just go for now.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes, “right, okay,” she followed behind as he walked to the door, opening it for her. She looked up at him, “goodnight, Jason.”

He gently touched her arm, “goodnight.”

She walked out feeling shame and guilt fill her body. She felt it in all her limbs, making it hard for her to walk, feeling pulled down by her emotions, she wondered, without ever touching his skin, how could I be guilty as sin?

[dreamingofmarauders]

For My Eyes Only

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which you have a secret a certain Marauder wants to know, or more specifically, Sirius wants to get his hands on that diary you're always writing in.

Warnings: Parents divorcing, sad feelings but should be mainly fluff (also sort of, invasion of privacy? You'll see what I mean)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I literally just finished this but I really loved this idea, although I started this oneshot months back but I never got back to it, due to which I forgot what the original plot was but I wrote this and I love it! I hope you like it too! Enjoy! <33

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

“Why does L/n always have that book with her?” Sirius questioned one late autumn evening, as he sat with the boys who were all in sixth year now.

“Who?” Peter questioned clueless.

“L/n.” Sirius said, pointing across the room at you. You were too lost writing into your diary that you didn’t realize the four biggest mischievous boys at Hogwarts were talking about none other than you. Sirius had noticed that since the beginning of the school year, you always wrote in your journal in the evenings.

“Leave Y/n be, Padfoot.” Remus commented, “Let Y/n be at peace.”

“Hey, I was just curious, that’s all!” Sirius exclaimed, appalled.

Remus rolled his eyes, “And we all know how that goes.” This earned a deep chuckle from James, making Sirius glare at him.

“Shut up.”

Sirius returned his gaze to you, watching you scribble into your diary with a fond smile. He knew you through Lily Evans and you two were sort of friends, but as he gazed at you writing away in that y/f/c journal, he knew that he wouldn’t rest until he got his hands on it. After all, once Sirius Black was intrigued, he was unstoppable.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

You were writing away in your diary, pouring out all your heart. The happy things, the sad things, the in between things. That is until you felt a shadow loom over you, and you hastily snapped your diary shut and turned around. Sirius groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat, as he was not able to get a glance of the page, before he masked that behind his confidence.

"Hey there, L/n. What are you writing in that little thing?"

You felt your cheeks heat up before you cleared your throat, standing up with an air of determination.

"That Sirius is for my eyes only, and not your business." You gave him a sweet smile and walked away, leaving Sirius gazing after your retreating figure.

"Run all you want Y/n but you can't escape me."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“Hey, pretty girl.”

You flinched at the new voice, cheeks warming as the words registered in your head. You turned to find Sirius sitting beside you, his hand cradling his chin as he winked at you.

“You wouldn’t mind having me as your Potions partner, would you, darling?”

You blinked owlishly, your heart fluttering at the name. “Why me, Sirius?”

Sirius let out a loud and dramatic sigh, “Well you see dearest Y/n, Remus is mad at me for eating his chocolate.” Your gaze flickered to the desk behind you, the said boy clenching his jaw as he glared at Sirius. “And James has already partnered with Peter, on purpose too, I really hate him sometimes.” He muttered the last part as you turned to look at the back of the class, where James and Peter were seated together, James sticking his tongue out at his best mate to which Sirius flipped him off.

“So that leaves me to sit with you. Plus you’re a intelligent and pretty girl.” Sirius finished, watching as you blushed.

“Oh- Oh, I see.” You answered, eyes flying to the chalkboard as Slughorn began to speak, for which you were thankful for as anymore of Sirius’ teasing and your soul would leave your body.

Once the Potions Master had explained the lesson for the day, the class got to their feet as they were to prepare a potion.

“I’ll got get the ingredients while you set up the cauldron.” You instructed, giving Sirius a gentle smile before walking away.

Sirius, with a sly grin playing on his lips, swiftly set up the cauldron, before slipping his hand into your bag. Once he found what he was looking for, he glanced your way and when he was sure you were still busy, Sirius cast alohomora on the lock and flipped open the journal to a random page.

Dear Diary,

I feel so hollow and empty. My parents are divorcing and worst of all, I have to live with my mother. She did love me once but ever since we all found out I was a witch, she’s changed. My father's love never wavered and I really want to live with him but on his own, he can barely keep himself up financially, and I can’t burden him with myself. Even though I recently got a job, it won’t be much help.

I return to school soon so with that I can at least breathe a sigh of relief, but I can’t burden Lily and the girls with my problems either but at least I’ll be happy for the time being.

Until next time.

Love,

Y/n

Sirius felt his heart twist. You seemed to be such a great person and yet you were hiding so much behind that warm smile of yours. Sirius quickly locked the diary and closed your bag, straightening just in time for you to return to him.

“Here we are.” You stated, setting the supplies down on the table in front of the pair of you. “Shall we start?” You gently asked, although cocking your head slightly to the side when Sirius didn’t respond but was merely staring at you.

“Sirius?”

He shook his head slowly. “Hm, yeah, let’s start.”

Throughout the rest of the lesson, Sirius would gaze at you in thought from time to time, and his stomach twisted with small guilt for having read through your diary when it truly was private. But that incident merely intrigued the boy more about you.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Sirius found himself thinking more about you over the next while, and knowing what you were going through, he began to spend more time with you. After all, he understood what it was like to not receive love from your own, and to be treated differently for not being like everyone else.

At first you had found it suspicious, just like you had in potions the other day, after all you had caught Sirius trying to read your personal diary before then. However you later on realized that Sirius was just trying to spend time with you, even if you were a bit baffled to as to why, because while the two of you were sort of friends, the pair of you had never spent much time together, so this was very new. But you went along with it, finding the time with Sirius enjoyable.

Sirius tried his best to make you laugh, relishing in the feeling when he heard your beautiful laughter, or smirking at you whenever he managed to make you blush with one of his pet names. However, it was that beautiful and captivating smile of yours that made him feel that his heart had stopped beating.

Merlin, what had started out as an attempt to read your diary after his curiosity had been piqued, led to Sirius being absolutely smitten with the beauty called Y/n L/n.

One late evening, after running away from Filch and having evaded detention, Sirius entered the common room only to find you fast asleep on the couch. His lips turned upwards at the sight and he walked over to your sleeping form, bending down in front of the couch as he admired you.

Realizing you had fallen asleep while attempting to complete a school assignment, Sirius very gently shook you by the shoulder, wanting you to sleep well in your bed rather than the couch whilst surrounded by your school textbooks and parchments and quills.

Your eyelids fluttered open at last, y/e/c coloured eyes flitting about as you blinked a few times, before your gaze landed on Sirius and it softened.

“Sirius?”

“It’s me, love.” He answered, stroking your hair, “I hate waking you up but I’d rather you go sleep in your bed, darling.” He told you, a very warm expression sitting upon his face.

You softly smiled, nodding as you lightly squeezed his hand in gratitude before standing up and trying to gather your things as quick as possible. Once done, you turned to Sirius and shot him your warm smile once again.

“Goodnight, Sirius.”

He returned the gesture.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

You turned on your heels and began your ascension up the stairs leading to your dormitory. Sirius watched you go before he made a move to leave. However, something caught his attention from the corner of his eye and he halted.

There, lying tucked into one corner, was your diary.

Sirius glanced back at the stairs of the girls dormitory, before his grey eyes flickered back to the journal.

He knew he shouldn’t but now he wanted to make sure if you were doing better.

So, letting his curiosity win over his guilt, Sirius once again, broke through your lock and flipped open onto your last diary entry. Nothing could have prepared the young Black for what he was about to read.

Dear Diary,

Things have been better but also sort of… weird? The good news is that perhaps I can move in with my father for when I return home for the summer.

Then there’s also Sirius.

He’s so sweet and kind, and although the flirting is constant, he makes me smile and I feel so happy around him.

At that, Sirius smiled to himself, glad he could brighten your days.

But, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I think I’m going mad. Sirius Black may as well be the death of me. He makes me feel things I shouldn’t. He smiles at me, my stomach erupts with butterflies. He laughs, my heart flutters. He gives me a cheeky wink, I go weak in the knees. He licks his lips and I can’t help but imagine how they would taste.

Oh Merlin, help me, I feel something that’s more than friends for Sirius and it’s driving me insane. I can’t afford to ruin everything with my feelings, I don’t want to lose our friendship but my heart is making everything so much more hard.

Oh Godric, help me.

I’ll write again if Sirius’ charm doesn’t claim my life before that.

Love,

Y/n

Sirius stared at the page in utter disbelief. He couldn’t believe what he had just read. These were words written by you about how you felt regarding him. Sirius could not understand how such an amazing girl like yourself could feel about him like this.

Footsteps began to echo around the common room and in a panic, Sirius snapped shut the diary, head turning in time to find you walking back down the stairs.

When you had gone up to your dormitory, after rummaging through your bag, you came to the realization that you had left your diary back in the common room. What you had not expected was to find Sirius in the common room with your diary in his hand.

“Sirius?”

“Y/n.” He said, standing up. He watched you walk over to him, a nervousness setting onto your face.

“I left something here so-“

You cut off as Sirius wordlessly lifted his hand, holding your diary out which you gently took from him.

“Thank you.”

You made a move to leave but Sirius caught your wrist, freezing you on the spot.

“Tell me it’s not true.” He said, making you turn around with slightly rounded eyes.

“What?”

“Tell me that what you wrote in your diary isn’t true. Tell me you don’t feel more for me than just friends.”

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Sirius, I…” You sighed, “I can’t.” You uttered out, watching Sirius’ eyes widen. “I can’t lie to you. You make me feel so special and-“

You cut off as Sirius placed his lips on yours, pulling you close to himself by your waist. Your grip on your diary slackened and it fell to the floor with a thud, as your arms went to wrap themselves around his neck.

It was just as you had imagined but even better and it was just you and him, and it was just perfect.

You both finally pulled apart after minutes, panting as you pressed your foreheads together.

“Go out with me?” Sirius asked, icy grey eyes gazing lovingly into yours. Sirius melted upon seeing the biggest smile grace your lips at that question.

“Of course.” You replied before Sirius pulled you in for another kiss.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Dear Diary,

It's crazy really that a few years have passed since I graduated out of Hogwarts with my best friends, we all have our own jobs and lives now, but what's even crazier is that I'm finally married!

Never would I have thought that one day I would be in love and happily married to Sirius Black. If someone had told my younger self that, I would have laughed at them.

The ceremony was today, a perfect day too with the sun shining down, a slight breeze, the bird chirping as Sirius and I exchanged our vows in the presence of our friends and family. I couldn't be happier.

You felt an arm wrap around your waist as someone placed their chin on your shoulder.

"What's my darling wife doing?"

You smiled at that.

Wife.

You were officially Sirius' wife.

The thought made you giddy.

"Ah." Sirius clicked his tongue, "You're writing in your diary."

You didn't reply but instead resumed scribbling on the page.

I'd love to write more but I'm afraid my very annoying husband is disrupting-

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed in mock offence, "Since when did I become annoying?" He paused, a sly grin sliding onto his lips, "You don't complain when I'm giving you a kiss or more." He said, earning an eye roll from you but even Sirius could feel that you were merely hiding a smile.

I'd love to write more but I'm afraid my very annoying charming husband is disrupting, I believe he wants to go to bed, it's been a long day after all, but a day I would love to relive everyday if I could.

Love,

Y/n Black

"I still can't believe you took my last name."

You closed your diary, putting it away before turning around in Sirius' arms, your arms going to lock behind his neck.

"Of course I would." You lovingly answered, gazing at him with adoration, "It's a part of your identity and I would love nothing more than to be called Mrs. Black." You told him, placing a kiss on his cheek before looking back into his eyes.

Sirius looked at you with such love and tenderness that you melted.

"I love you so much, Mrs. Black."

Your lips turned up into a graceful yet enchanting smile.

"I love you too, Mr. Black."

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[reikamasama]

𝙰 𝚂𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝙾𝚏 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖 ? 𝘐

Pairing ;  Hazbin hotel X G/N Teen!Reader

Warnings ; mentions of death !

Word count ; 4.4 k

Summary ; You are now one of the many sinners, joining them 6 feet under. You stumble upon a kind lady who helps you navigate through hell.

ೃ⁀➷ Prologue, ꕥ Chapter I, ꕥ Chapter II

It was another hellish day, the streets were buzzing, sinners were fighting and the rats were scurrying. A rotting scent lingers through the air from the unclean streets and unkept sinners, mixed with the fires throughout the city. The atmosphere reeks of negativity, probably one of many reasons that kept sinners dwelling on their past, before they went and made their way to the pearly gates only to be rejected — and fall to join eternal doom. You may have believed this day would be like any other, but there was something unusual about this day; a certain star had fallen from their grace. Their soul being rejected peace, and were now joining the fiery pits of hell.

⋇⊶⊰    ⊱⊷⋇

You feel a warm sensation wrapping around your body, the feeling was that of a warm blanket, something telling you that everything was going to be okay. That feeling was short lived as you hear a soft ‘thud’ followed by that comforting feeling being replaced with an uncomfortably negative one. Not only were you feeling uncomfortable — your nose also caught a horrible smell of rotting trash! You scrunch your nose as you take slow, controlled and rhythmic breaths trying to get your nose to get used to that god-awful smell.

You shift feeling uncomfortable in your current state. You could feel yourself sitting on some kind of hard pavement, or some kind of rocks. Probably a street of some kind.. then why couldn’t you hear any voices? Are you on an abandoned street of sorts perhaps? Okay, okay—Pause! The thoughts in your head stop brewing while you tell yourself ‘not to create more questions for yourself’. You gently lift your hands, up to your face. You let your fingers rub your eyelids gently, as they seemingly don’t want to cooperate with you, wishing for them to open. 

You slowly feel your eyelids opening allowing you to scan the current location you were in. As your eyelids flutter you let your eyes wander. You quickly notice of a theme with where you were, there were two pink buildings on either side of you. The buildings had matching structures, and there was a filthy trash can to your left. Oh! That would explain the lack of noise.  

Your eyes keep scanning your surroundings, you can for sure say that you are not in some area you have been in before. 

Breath in— yuck, there’s that smell again.. your eyes land on the trash can and you notice how overfilled it is. We are talking months worth of trash. The trash wasn’t something of the ordinary but it had a horrible sent that liked to linger. You squint your eyes not being able to make out what was in the trash but you pay it no mind. You had to drop your curiosity for now. 

All you needed was a main goal, right! A goal.. 

How about asking the first person you see questions about this place.. in other words, gathering as much information you can you can about this place. You loose yourself in thought, letting your fingers trail the lines between the pavement subconsciously. You let out a content ‘hm’ to yourself, pleased with the current plan. You look down at your hand that has been tracing the lines between the different rocks in the pavement. Wait, what-! 

Your eyes widen as you see your arm, why is it not your usual color? Actually, why is it not a normal color at all! You go into panic to mode swiftly stand up. This has got to be some kind of dream, or- or! Maybe it’s just the light, you are sitting in the shadows of a dark alleyway after all maybe-! You stumble once you’re on your feet, you lean against the wall. The cold sensation of the wall cools your senses for a second, before you switch right back into panic mode. You feel your legs growing more wobbly as you stumble back down. There was nothing that sounded sounding more appealing, than curling up into a small ball and crying. Wishing for better days, tomorrow is another day after all.

That’s a sentence you’ve gotten used to telling yourself ‘Tomorrow is another day.’  It’s a sentence that has helped you trough thick and thin. When you had to deal with the woman you used to call mom, while studying.. just generally every other day at this point. You exhale with a shaky breath, tears building up, but before you were able to have a breakdown you hear a voice approaching you in a somewhat-normal pace. Breath. 

“Dear, ..are you crying, are you alright?”

The tone of the voice sounded slightly worried. You could tell it was a woman trying to get your attention. She had a voice that radiated with confidence from that of an older lady, but also laced with kindness. You audibly inhaled, then exhaled trying to control your emotions as you look up at the lady speaking with you.

Your suspicions was correct, it was a woman. The lady had a very tall and slim figure accompanied with a beautiful long silky dress. The dress had short puffy sleeves, at the ends of the puffed sleeve continues a longer normal sized sleeve that ends right before the beginning of her palm. The lady had slender like fingers as well as a very slender neck with the dress reaching up to the very top of her neck. The woman had a pointy face, her teeth were sharper than the sharpest knives that you’ve ever seen and her eyes were completely blacked out. Even if her eyes were blacked out you were still able make out emotions in them. Your eyes traveled up to her oversized hat, it resembles a sun hat of sorts with a bunch of fluffy feathers sticking out from the top of the hat. The middle of the hat has a little skull with a cutie little heart next to it. The hat also had a beautiful pink rim— wait.. why doesn’t she look human?

You do a double take, the thing standing in front of you had a few resembling human features but nothing close to an actual human. Your confusion only grew but you had to remember your goal, figure out where you are.. you can ask more questions later! You take notice to the woman that was looking at you expectantly, probably awaiting some kind of verbal response. You keep your hands wrapped around your knees making sure the woman won’t get to close to you.

“Where am i..?”

You asked, you were surprised at hearing your own voice, it hasn’t ever sounded so panicked or weak before... A tone you are certainly not used to. The lady in front of you frowns slightly as she looks down at your scared form. Her voice turns into a more soft sounding one. Also making sure not to make any sudden movements to frighten you further.

“Ah, you must be new to hell correct?”

What —is she talking about.. hell? You’re in hell.? What the hell?? Well- to be fair you have just killed someone, and yourself. But hell? You never did anything wrong in your life, until there was that little mishap. 

You were never one for religion, but apparently the concept of heaven or hell was true. There’s a brief second where everything clicks in your head, your strange appearance along with the smell.. the strange appearance of the women. 

You nod your head slightly trying to follow that with a verbal agreement, but your voice doesn’t seem to cooperate with you. You close your mouth and you let out a barely audible sigh. The lady in front of you offers you a sad smile.

“Well then let me help you! The name is Rosie it’s a pleasure to meet you young fellow!”

The lady whom appears to be named Rosie does a little curtesy as she gives you a toothy smile.

“And who may you be?”

You let her question linger in the air for a second, how will it take before you’ll be able to talk, especially since your brain isn’t letting you.? You try your best, forcing out a quiet;

“I’m [Name], [Name] [Lastname]. It’s a pleasure to—“

Your throat begins to burn, or at least it feels like it. You yelp slightly. Swiftly lifting one of your free hands up to caress the sharp pain in your neck. You gently caress the pain back and forth. It takes a long second but at some point the pain begins to loosen up, the only pain left is a small throbbing in the middle of your neck. You find it ironic that the pain in your neck is where you stabbed yourself when you were alive. You suddenly remember the woman in front of you is still there, it’s quite rude not to finish your sentence you know.

“—meet you..”

She has a strange expression on her face, but she picked up on the pain in your neck and decided not to pry further.

“Oh my stars! I’ve never meet a young one like yourself with such manners! Why [Name] why don’t ya come with me? We can speak more of this over some tea! A cup of tea has never killed anyone, except my first husband ha ha!”

You now see Rosie standing in front of you with a toothy grin, showing off her sharp white teeth. Her eyes kind and warm as she laughs at her own joke. You find her humor entertaining. She reaches her hand down to your level. You look at her hand, surprised to meet someone this nice in hell. Maybe it’s all a trick? After all hell is supposed to be some kind of shit hole.. maybe you can’t trust her.? You hesitate accepting her hand, leaving her hand empty for a little. You go back and forth in your brain listing positives and negatives that were likely to happen had you accepted her hand. 

You shake off your anxiety and decide that accepting her hand would be for the best.

Her hand smoothly lifts you up on your feet, you wobble but she keeps a steady grip on your hand keeping you grounded. You offer her a small smile as your eyes warily look around with every step the two of you take. Right as the two of you are about to exit the tightly fit alley you can make out what has been drenching the air in its horrid smell. It was flesh, months old flesh. You flinch slightly, eyes widening as you don’t know how to react. Rosie’s gaze follows yours, her gaze landing on the rotting flesh as well. 

“I forgot to tell you where you are, how rude of me! Welcome to cannibal town dear. Here is where you can find the cleanest parts of hell! Well aside from the junk you’ve just seen I’ll get that fixed later! But I’m sure the rest of the town is fit to impress you!”

She smiles with pride while talking about her town. Rosie keeps a steady pace while the two of you exit the alleyway. You are now greeted with a more clear vision of this town, there are multiple buildings standing neatly next to each other. The buildings have a matching color scheme that contains a bunch of pinks followed along with the lighter pink accents resembling white. Everything has a vintage vibe and it fits really well and it leaves a good taste in your mouth! You also take notice to the sky, it’s a blood colored red. You’re not surprised as this is hell after all. 

After a short walk around the ‘Cannibal town’ you aproach a large building, the building stood out from the rest. Its colors were rich having multiple shades of a brighter pink with pastel pink accents. The large doors were made out of stained glass and its shape was emerald like. Over the entrance you saw a huge sign with the words;                       

 ‘Franklin and Rosie’s’

     ‘Emporium’ 

You let the slim lady lead you up to the doors. Her slender fingers wrapping around one of the door handles as she gently opens the door leading you inside. You only walk into the large room after feeling Rosie’s urging hand on your back. The room had light pink walls and white flooring, it was the first time you had ever seen something that light-colored in all of hell.. 

You kept following Rosie. You look to your left and you see rows of glass displays, they were displaying a bunch of different body parts legs, arms, eyes and more. The display that really caught your attention though was a display with a bunch of pinkie fingers. They came in different colors, sizes and some even had accessories. You felt sick from these things being displayed so casually, you wanted to gag but you keep that to yourself not wanting to get on Rosie’s bad side. You can hear your foot-steps echoing as you make your way t the shop into a smaller more secluded area. Your head looks towards the and you’re presented with a beautiful round coffee table. 

The coffee table was covered in a long black cloth. The cloth hangs down from the table forming a flower-like pattern. Each ‘petal’, or ‘bump’ on the cloth had a skull pattern embroiled into it. There were also frills at the beginning of each ‘petal’. On each side of the table you saw large chairs. The chairs had the same color scheme as everything else around this town.. mostly pinks with some lighter pinks or whites if you prefer, oh! But they did have a black touch to them! The chairs were very square like due to the cushions material that was used for them. The chairs had large skulls at the top of their crown. 

On the table there was a light-pink tea set, the tea pot was filled with already brewed water. It was like fate knew you were gonna run into her. 

You feel a hand gently nudging your back pushing you forward to the chair on the right side of the table. You stumble forward while looking at the chair in hesitation, your gaze lands on Rosie’s comforting face telling you it’s alright to take a seat. You take some steps forward and you let yourself sink down into the chair. It’s a very comfortable chair, made out of a very soft material, nothing you ever expected to feel in hell. But i guess if you live in hell you gotta make the most of it! You can’t help but feel a happy meeting such a kind soul in hell, you don’t want to think about what could’ve happened if you didn’t meet Rosie. 

You straighten your back and place your hands on your lap as you watch her slink down in her chair. Your gaze follows her every move as she pours some tea into your cup and then hers. Some old manners you have ever been taught since the nick of time were keeping eye contact to show that you were playing attention to her. You do things like this subconsciously like a little mental list in the back of your head, smile, look the person your talking to, keep your hands in your lap not to take up much space, nod and chime in every once in a while — nobody likes a yapper. You get the picture. A long list of rules to make sure you present yourself in the best light. 

Rosie curls her fingers around the cup handle, lifting the cup to her lips as she takes a sip of the steaming tea and lets out an audible laugh. “You sure know manners, kid! Have good parents growing up?” Her laugh echos trough the room as your shoulders stiffen, your smile drops ever so slightly. If Rosie wasn’t looking at your face she would’ve never caught glimts of your unpleased face from when she brought up your parents.

“Alright alright, i won’t pry.. but don’t feel any need to be so formal around me, you’re a good kid.” Your shoulders relax and only then you notice how tense you truly were. Rosie is offering you a comforting smile and you give her an apologetic smile in return. You shift in your seat making yourself more comfortable wondering where you’re gonna go from here.

“Now, i do believe we have a lot to talk about, i understand if any of this gets overwhelming — then you should tell me and we can take a little snack break, oh! Have you ever tried pinkie fingers? They’re a real treat when you try them—!”

“—No! Thank you Rosie, i belive I’ll be fine, I’m not ready to try.. cannibalism just yet..haha…”

Your voice sounds weak, and that sharp pain you felt earlier rises up from your throat to pay others visit. You want to yelp in pain, but the feeling of wanting make a good personal wins over your own comfort. 

⋇⊶⊰ P A S T ⊱⊷⋇

“Smile, dear! Nobody will like you if you don’t show them manners!”

You sit on a small brown uncomfortable chair, a fancy tall golden mirror stands in front of you. Your mother’s hand rests on your shoulders with a soft grip as she smiles and looks into the mirror. You force that smile on your face, the smile your mom oh so much loves.

“Perfect, hands on your lap, sitting with a straight back.. good job dear!”

You always found her obsession with manners weird. You notice your mother’s grip on your shoulders loosen up as one of them moves to your chin. She has a cold smile that sends shivers down your spine.

“Never let anybody see you with frown, it doesn’t fit you, dear.”

⋇⊶⊰  H U R T  ⊱⊷⋇

Your left hand is rubbing your neck gently as Rosie keeps ranting. Your hand reachers for the tea cup sitting on the matching plate. Your index finger and thumb wraps around the cup handle as you gently lift the cup and place it between your lips, sipping on what you believe is strawberry tea. The pain in your throat grows weak only leaves a small throbbing on your neck, you conclude that talking to much makes your throat hurt. 

“Oh i get it, a kid like you would like to keep your figure! Oh im just kidding, it’s alright dear you don’t need to try cannibalism just yet! But the offer still stands, haha! 

She snorts at her own joke as she takes another sip of her tea.

“On a more serious note, i would like to say that you shouldn’t trust anybody in hell, yes you might have trusted.. me but take that as a lesson. Oh! Also make sure not to make any deals— especially if it’s for your soul! It can make your (undead) life in hell well.. a living hell!”

Nodding you silently sipping on your tea showing her you are listening as she continues talking;

“There are a lot of things we can talk about, so how about i ask you something simple— something you might be able to answer right now.”

“How are you adjusting with your new body? I just wanna say kid you have gotten better luck than other sinners.”

Oh right your new body. You had been so caught up in everything you had completely forgotten about that. Your head tilts down, eyes catching glimpses of your hands. It feels unreal.. you place the teacup down on the table. Opening and closing your hands moving your fingers one by one. At least you aren’t struggling, but it’s still hard to take in.

You notice something that has been inching towards you from the corner of your eye. It’s Rosie’s hand with a small pocket mirror. She gently places it in your empty hand and you saw its pink flower theme. Your fingers linger over the smooth silver lining before you open the mirror.

The mirror shows you a frowning face, your face. Your mothers voice rings trough your head;

“Never let anybody see you frown my dear”

You give yourself a stiff smile letting your free hand trail up your face, softly brushing your fingers against your lips. Is it really you..? Your fingers move to your cheek as you gently tug on it. Your eyes wander around the mirror you find multiple features that remind you of your old face, the old you. You stare at your reflection and it stares back at you.. better get used to it. A sigh leaves your mouth before you close the flower themed mirror.

You place Rosie’s mirror onto the table, eyes still fixated on your new hands. Inhale, exhale, you take deep controlled breaths letting yourself take in what you just saw;

“I’m sure I’ll be able to adjust fine, I’m just not used to it that’s all. I was never a religious person either.. so when you told me i ended up in hell— i was quite suprised.. hah..”

Your hands fidget in your lap as you continue;

“I must thank you Rosie.. for helping me..with everything.!”

Your hands tightly grip onto your clothing looking up at her as you force a smile.

Rosie’s face lights up.

“I have barely helped you yet, dear — but you are most welcome! Now i have another question, why is such a young one as yourself down in hell? I’m not quite sure it was your time to die just yet.”

Your smile tenses, your body freezing in your tracks. Are you sure you can tell her? She has hinkt helped you so far.. but are you ready to tell your tale? Maybe you can..sugar coat some things! Possibilities fly around in your head. 

“Well, let’s just say i decided to take the hard way out.”

Your answer stays vague, you don’t want Rosie to think you’re a weirdo— even if she is a cannibal.. maybe murdering is even crossing her own line? Does she even have any..? The bulging pain in your throat rises slightly but you ignore it for the time being. Rosie takes notice to the vague answer but doesn’t question it, she just offers you a little smile.

“I guess you wanted to kick the bucket early, eh? Well i won’t pry but if you ever need an ear I’ll lend one.”

Her smile just seems so warm and her actions seem so genuine, it reminds you of your music friends.. ah right you never got to say goodbye to them.

⋇⊶⊰  S M I L E  ⊱⊷⋇

Laughter fills the diner. As Minori poke Yuki’s pouting cheeks. The atmosphere is a light one and it’s bubbling with happiness.

“Look at your pouting face! Someone’s maad!~”

“Well i wouldn’t be if someone wasn’t in my face all of the time!”

Yuki tries to get Minori off of her but after a failed attempt she crosses her arms, and only then Minori quits as she holds a cocky grin on her face. You alongside with Rinku giggle at the sight of the two bickering like children. 

“Now let’s not be too loud and disturb the other guests!”

Rinku says as she pats Yuki’s head while holding in giggles.

“Boo your no fun!”

You all laugh in Minori’s protests as she sticks out her tongue.

⋇⊶⊰  N O   ⊱⊷⋇

A real smile creeps onto your face as you think of them, happy memories of them quickly turn bittersweet ones but you can’t help keeping a happy smile while you think of them. Rosie’s smile grows as she sees your happy state. Her fingers tap alongside the tea-cup catching your attention as you stop daydreaming. 

“So, [Name] you don’t have a place to stay do you?” 

Your face perks up as you look at her eyes, you shake your head gently and you see her expression lightening up.

“Ah! Well I’ve got this suggestion! You see the Princess of hell has recently opened a hotel— and it’s one of a kind, she wishes to rehabilitate sinners just like yourself! The news may have been aired not long ago but it’s still the talk of the town! I also believe it’s a good thing for you, you deserve a second chance! You’re still a kid and hadn’t had time to experience everything the (under)world has to offer yet!”

Rosie keeps her content smile while looking your way. Suddenly she stands up as she walks over to a cabinet, the hinges whine as she opens them and starts looking for something;

“But it’s funny really, the hotel is a laughing stock of hell at the moment. At first she was only meant to promote her hotel on the news, but she burst into song! It was quite catchy if i do say so myself.”

Failing? Why would it, was she a bad singer? No..Rosie liked her song and you trust her judgement. You hear Rosie let out a content ‘aha!’ As she turns and walks over to you with a newspaper in hand. She flips through pages before landing on a certain one, place the newspaper on the table. Your eyes scan through the page and then you see the headline ’666 news disaster Charlotte Mourningstar makes a fool of herself on live tv’. The bold headliner makes you giggle slightly.

Rosie has a chipper tone, she’s enjoying gossiping about this topic a bunch it seems. Her offer was sweet really however you feel uneasy. You have just entered hell and you’re now gonna join a hotel? Are you really ready to start working on yourself when you barely know the rules of hell? No.. but an idea enters your mind. Maybe just maybe—

“Rosie, the offer sounds tempting really but i don’t believe I’m quite ready to work on myself just yet.. i was thinking maybe.. could i stay here.?”

You knew it was a selfish ask, but you really felt comfortable with Rosie, she was a kind lady and you knew you could trust her. If you were able to stay here— even only for a little it would mean the (under)world to you. Rosie places her index finger and thumb between her chin, as she considers your question.

After what felt like minutes she finally speaks up;

“I’ll tell you what, i offer you a place to stay and you help me around the parlor of the emporium! That charming attitude is sure to help my business! No contract necessary.”

You can’t help but light up at her offer, you felt lucky to have meet her, your hands clasp together as you offer her a bright smile;

“I’d love that!”

⋇⊶⊰ E N D ⊱⊷⋇

[milgram-tournament]

MILGRAM Best Song Tournament, Round 2, Match 2 BRING IT ON vs. THIS IS HOW TO BE IN LOVE WITH YOU

Propaganda for both options under the cut!

Propaganda for BRING IT ON:

"Reasons why Bring it On should win:

- Just by starting the song, the instrumentals are BANGER. Like his more rock style is very cool, even better than After Pain’s more mellow style - Arthur’s voice (Futa’s va) had bills due because have you HEARD his singing?? His raspier voice fits Futa so well - It feels so explosive and like a call to action in a sense, which very much matches Futa’s mentality during trial 1. He also wasn’t playing victim like a CERTAIN girl… (jk, love you mu!) - SAA HAJIMEYOU USOTSUKI KARIDA - UNDEAD HEROOOI YES SLAY KING HIS HIGH NOTE HERE IS HEAVENLY - His scream at the end. Oh my god. HE LITERALLY ATE THIS NOTE. AFTER PAIN COULD NEVER. BRING IT ON FTW 🔥🔥🔥" - His range goes WAAAAAY higher than Mu. She would end up like PHG if she even tried hitting any of his high notes in the last chorus /j

---

- The vocals are amazing, those growls are so well done - You’re able to get Fuuta’s crime and motive pretty succinctly, only based on the visuals - But it still leaves a lot up to interpretation, like how he only attacked once in the final fight scene. It lead to some cool theories. - On that note, the game aspects are so cool!! Especially when paired with him going after people online, just good synergy with awesome style! - Fuuta’s scared face after he realizes what he did. The great contrast of other foes simply being knocked out then being met with blood splatter. - The tempo of the song changing with his mood is a really good touch as well. Make the song more chaotic which highlights his character traits well

---

"propaganda for bring it on: the music FUCKS it genuinely slaps so hard listening to it. song style is incredible its perfect for fuutas personality and gamer vibes. also the way the mv frames everything as a game? the only time real blood and real gore happens being when killcheroy dies? the little details of all the usernames, the different monster designs, the generally distorted feel of everything being too lighthearted?

okay i could go on about the mv for hours but lets not. aside from that: the FEEL of the song!!! the vocals!!!! it really feels like fuuta putting his whole heart into it, into this point of view that both blows problems out of proportion and minimises them, and DEEPLY fucking up. my darling little hypocrite gamer boy twitter user. he makes his witch hunt genuinely sound like something that could sweep people up into it. also the instruments goddddd. the guitar and synth the bass and the drums the DRUMS. im relistening to it to write this propaganda and it keeps making me headbang when i should be writing. if you arent headbanging to bring it on you are LYING.

the way the lyrics are written is wonderful too!!!! they feel so brash and brave and powerful and like. cocky about it. and it fits PERFECTLY. its gets someone swept up into it and it FUCKS. vote bring it on im serious. lets go!! a victory march!! dan da dan!!"

Propaganda for TIHTBILWY:

okay so like the thing im most in love with: the VOCALS!!!! this song has an absolutely AMAZING singer and AMAZING vocals!!!! the way the conversational talk-singing lines still feel so musical!!!! the cute cute cuteeeee mahiru voice!!!! it brings you so much energy!!!! its a song sung with so much love!!!! mahirus va brings such an amazing feel to the song with such amazing talk-singing!!!! its very skillfully done and it happens in i love you too!! mahiru songs r the QUEENS of musical talk singing

the silly phone call bit. kurururu~!

the little vocal flourish and the way her voice raises up like an excited exclamation in the final prechorus!! daijoubu nante kirai DA!

its such a fast song but everything flows so well!!!! it makes it feel so bright and cheery and peppy!!

the instrumental is so underrated just LISTEN to that catchy bass line thats so pretty in the verses!!!! no for real even if u dont vote this is how to be in love with you go listen to the bass line in the verses it works to move both the song and the listener forward at mahirus sweeping breakneck pace. and the cute keyboard sounding and synth instruments!!!! its SUCH a danceable song!!!! i cant listen to it without bopping along in my seat

the way the ominous bits are subtly hidden? it all sounds so cute but there are just these Things that she sings that are really kind of concerning and unhealthy when she sings them!! and the veiled desperation to be in her relationship- listening to that and the cheery tone and breakneck, quick song pace, it really does represent mahiru SO well. she throws in all these little bits that just go noooo teehee the relationships just fine!! when it REALLY isnt

i would listen to mahiru talk for hours

the MV!!!!!! HER FASHION SENSE THE MAGAZINE STYLE!!!! the magazine style especially works so well with her character!!!! its so cute and stunning and just looking at it you have a blast. also her birdcage!!!! her birdcage and the bright orange and the pink bars!!!! the way everything desaturates and becomes more sickly looking when she wakes up at the end!!!! its such a happy carefully curated and designed dream and then it drains away!!!! also god all her outfits are stunning. mahiru call me

the way she sings "overheat de~!" cutest thing in the WORLD.

the little faces she makes!!!! godddd shes so expressive

actually the whole songs so expressive!!!! shes putting her all into it!!!! her words have so much expression in them!!!! once more praising mahirus va the way her voice can soften and become bright or subtly desperate so quickly is MASTERFUL control of expression when singing and its so underrated. join me in being insane over miho okasaki delivers her lines. shes such a perfect mahiru.

funniest es cover. hands down. funniest es cover.

this is how to be in love with you is FREE serotonin!!!! free energy right there!!!! this is how to be in love with you sweep!!!!!

---

-The song is so cheerful!! I always feel like dancing and singing when this one comes up in my playlists!! Absolute banger, mood definer, kicking sadness in the shin with those high-heels and then hitting its face with a cute purse -THE HIGH-HEELS STEPPING TO THE BEAT OF THE MUSIC IN THAT ONE SCENE (0:50). SIMPLY ICONIC. NO ONE DID IT LIKE HER. -👠💅👝👗 -She is slaying. Look at her outfits. She put so much effort there. She gave it her all. Absolutely serving. -SUKITTE KIMOCHI WAKATTA TSUMORI? NARA KONO MAMA FUTARI O-VA-HI-TO- DE -The storyline of the mv MAKES SENSE and you can form a COHESIVE TIMELINE OF EVENTS (unlike other unspecified contestants' mvs you know 🙄) -look at herr 🥺 she beby 🥺 all she did was love too much 🥺 we all love mappi don't we 🥺 she deserved more let her win this pleease 🥺 -No medical malpractice happened in the making of this mv 👍

---

I care so much about This is How To Be In Love With You- it's visuals are brilliant in the ways it conveys its themes and narrative. I'm never normal Ever about the "Love as marketing" symbolism that is brought in by the use of magazines. It's a lovely upbeat song but the Horrors are Always Lurking under it, the breakup Ritual line is my Favorite Line cause its so horrifying but its said so casually and its so good oh its so good-

[parkjayist]

enchanted (pjs) ONESHOT

sum you're not quite enjoying prom the way you wanted to, luckily someone else feels the same way.

paring park jongseong x f!reader

genre a bit of angst , fluff , classmates to something more? , one shot

an sorry i took so long! school was killing me D:

wc 1.4k

" all i can say is, it was enchanting to meet you. "

you were genuinely excited for prom this year. 

it was your last one before graduating. in your last year of highschool, everything felt more sentimental, more special. during the first football game of the school year, you broke down in tears. your friends stared at you as if you were an alien, one of them secretly snapping a picture of you to tease you later. you weren’t crying because of the game, but rather realizing you wouldn’t be able to gossip with your friends on the bleachers or pretend to cheer when the team scored a goal. these tiny things that you didn’t care for before became part of you as you went into 12th grade. this is why, even if you dreaded prom before, you were going to enjoy your last one no matter what happened.

… which you didn’t do. 

nothing bad was happening at prom, in fact, it was going extremely well. your friends told you that you looked beautiful, and you felt beautiful too. but something was missing. one hour in, and you felt absolutely drained. everytime someone you knew approached you, you put on a fake smile, but in reality you really wanted to run out of the doors and reach for comfort in your bed. 

“are you sure you don’t wanna dance with us?” your friend asked, eyes slightly furrowed with concern.

“yes, i’m fine. go have fun, i’ll watch you guys. it’s entertaining seeing you guys act like fools on the dance floor,” you joked, even though your voice sounded extremely strained. 

your friend sighed and walked to join her other friends, and you slouched back on your seat, silently observing them. you were quite disappointed that your prom didn’t end up the way you wanted it to. you wanted to have fun and talk with your friends, but you both physically and mentally couldn’t handle that. you slowly sipped your lemonade, starting to zone out. 

“hey, you alright?” a voice asked you. 

you yelped in surprise, almost spilling your drink. to your left sits your classmate, park jongseong. your eyes widened in surprise. what in the world was jongseong doing here, sitting next to me?

it wasn’t like you guys were complete strangers, but you guys were definitely not friends. more like acquaintances, that probably only interacted 3 times the entire 4 years in highschool. he was in at least one of your classes every year, but you guys never talked to each other. he wasn’t extremely popular by any means, but he was well known. jongseong was hard-working and kind. he was also known to be extremely fun to be around if you were even lucky to be his friend. he kept his circle small, barely paying mind to anyone else around him. he probably doesn’t even know you, you think. 

so why was he sitting next to you, when he should have been with his friends, enjoying prom?

“hellooo …? earth to (____)?” jongseong playfully waved a hand in front of your face, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts.

“o.. oh! um, sorry,” you laughed nervously. “i’m okay, i just don’t really have fun at social events.”

jongseong nodded, listening intently to your words. he leaned forward in his chair, arms resting on his lap. he had a certain glint in his eyes– something you immediately noticed when you took the time to look at his face.

“don’t worry, me neither,” he smiled. “hey– do you want to get out of here?”

you blinked at him. “umm … where would we go?”

“we could go to 7/11. it isn’t too far from here, probably like a five-minute walk,” he suggested.

you looked at your friends giggling loudly and dancing to their hearts' content. you looked back at jongseong, who was waiting for a response.

“sure, why not,” you said with a small smile.

the boy reciprocated the smile, immediately getting up and adjusting his shirt. he motioned for you to follow him as you both “sneakily” left the event. he held the door open for you, and you beamed at him as a silent thank you. the cool spring air hit your face as you let out a small sigh of relief. you didn’t know how suffocating prom had been until you left that room. you both walked silently, shoulders brushing every now and then. it was a comfortable silence, which you appreciated as you didn’t have much energy to talk. you shortly spotted the blinding lights of the 7/11, and you both entered, greeting the cashier with a quiet hello.

“so … what did you want to get?” you asked jongseong.

the boy thought for a bit before giving you a grin, “how about we eat that ramen you always ate when you came here?”

your eyes widened. “how– what — were you stalking me?”

that cheesy grin immediately dissipated with your accusation, now replaced with rosy cheeks and wide eyes that matched yours.

“n.. no! i come here like almost every day, and by chance, you were here when i came by a couple of times,” he hurriedly explained himself.

you both stared at each other before you broke into loud laughter, gathering attention from the cashier and some people around you. jongseong looked at you incredulously, letting out a few chuckles with you.

“sorry …” you wiped tears that formed after your incessant laughter. “you just looked so adorable when you were trying to explain yourself. i know you’re not a stalker, don’t worry,” you giggled, patting him on the shoulder before walking away to find the ramen brand.

jongseong stood there for a minute, his cheeks as red as a strawberry. he placed a hand over where you touched him, giggling quietly to himself. he quickly found you again in the ramen section, his hands in his pockets as he looked down at you.

park jongseong was a boy of simplicity – he preferred straightforwardness and authenticity. he had never thought of love, but whenever he did, he wanted it to be slow, calm, and peaceful. he wanted to take his lover out on 7/11 dates, expensive dates, spontaneous dates … everything. however, he slowly realized in his high school years that it might be impossible to find love, as everyone was too focused on themselves.

but as you searched for your ramen pack, he started to think of love again. except in his imagination, his lover was not some blank, faceless void – it was you. he was imagining you as his lover. he was shocked, not appalled, but surprised. this was your first true interaction with him, and he was already thinking of you as his lover … what had you done to him?

you stood up abruptly, and jongseong came back to reality.

“you got it?” he softly asked.

you nodded, and he followed you to the cashier. you took out your phone case to get the $10 bill from your phone case, but he stopped you, paying with his credit card. you shyly thanked him as you both stared into space while waiting for his card to register.

“thank you so much,” the cashier handed you the receipt. “by the way– what’s the special occasion? you guys look oddly fancy for a 7/11 date,” the cashier asked with a curious grin on their face.

“oh– we aren’t da–” you started to speak up, before the boy behind you interrupted.

“we were at prom … and we just wanted to spend some time together,” jongseong said, looking down at you with a cheesy grin.

the cashier smiled and said something about young love, which left you both flustered. you quickly went to heat up the ramen, and you both decided to eat outside on the benches, agreeing that the cool night air would be refreshing. you blew on your ramen, quietly slurping the first strands. your eyes twinkled with happiness, savoring the delicious flavor of the noodles. jongseong looked at you, a small smile playing at his lips. 

there was no excuse, he was enchanted by you. your style, the way you cry when you laugh, your quiet charisma, your intelligence – everything about you was so … loveable. he just wanted to stay in this moment forever. 

“jongseong!” you looked at him, your mouth stuffed with ramen. “eat!”

the boy giggles at your cute face, almost resembling a chipmunk. he starts eating his ramen, occasionally stealing not-so subtle glances at you. 

despite prom not going the way you or jongseong wanted, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for this impromptu escape. with each bite of ramen and each joke shared, the disappointment of prom seemed to be completely forgotten. and as you catched jongseong stealing glances at you, a weird warmth spread through your chest, knowing that perhaps, in the midst of a disappointing social night, you found something unexpectedly sweet – the enchanting park jongseong.

masterlist

[ynsvnte]

Between the space — Lee Heeseung

Genre: angst, friends to strangers, unrequited love, wc: 970 , warnings: crying, pairing: bsf!hee x gn!reader

Masterlist

Late at night, sitting down minding your own business. Just you lost in your thoughts, like usual. Your little bubble will burst when a voice speaks up.

“Hey what’s on your mind..?” The voice said you look up and see your best friend, Heeseung. You lower your head and speak.

“Nothing..just got distracted..” you said. He didn’t buy your words. Something was clearly wrong. “No. I don’t believe it.” Heeseung says as he sits right next to you. You look at heeseung before sighing. “Look I’m okay, don’t worry.” You spoke softly. “No yn, I know when you’re not okay. I’ve been your best friend for years.” ‘Yeah best friends…nothing more..’ you thought to yourself. “Yeah..but some things are better left unsaid..”

“And..what do you mean by that..?” Heeseung was now getting curious.. “Don’t worry about it, besides you wouldn’t want to know anyway.” Your words made him laugh, but still curious. He wanted to know what you meant by that. Unsaid?? What's the worst thing that happened..right.. Definitely what Heeseung but not you. Your relationship status wasn’t complicated. Maybe if heeseung..liked you..he did but in a friendly way.

Your feelings for him were strong, growing up with him for almost all your life. You gained feelings like most people would. Heeseung didn’t…or so you thought. Heeseung liked, LIKED. Teenager Heeseung had the fattest crush, but later he only saw you as a friend and not as a crush anymore. Of course he would never tell you that he had liked you. You on the other hand, those feelings never changed. Your younger self promised to always like him. Now..maybe you can’t keep that promise to younger you. You tried to move on before..but that was useless. Look at you now,.. so foolishly in love with someone you know that wouldn’t return those exact same feelings. That’s you’ve been trying to avoid him like the plague. The longer you were around. The more certain you would never lose feelings.

Heeseung has been very open about his love interest. A fellow classmate of his..you knew she was one of the prettiest girls you ever seen..and you can’t blame him for liking her.

“You know we haven’t been talking that much…” Heeseung spoke up. You only nodded your head, choosing not to verbally respond. “Is there any reason for that..?” He asked you. You only stared at the ground pretending to not hear him. You of course did. And heeseung also knew you heard him. “Look, don’t ignore me, I know you heard my question..” You became flushed.

“F-fine..there is but I rather not say..” you were slightly embarrassed..not wanting to expose your true feelings for him and ruining your friendship. “And why not..does it have to do with me..?” You could only nod your head. You hoped he wouldn’t ask more questions, but luck wasn’t on your side. “Did I do something wrong..?” No..no you didn’t, you wanted to tell him. But you couldn’t find the courage to actually tell him. You sighed and finally looked up, making eye contact.. “you did nothing wrong..more like I did..” You spoke..voice almost slightly cracking…

“What could you possibly have done wrong because all I know is that you're a good kid..” He wasn’t lying, you were never a troublemaker in school, just always decided to mind their own business. “It’s not that..heeseung it’s more complicated..” More complicated..? Heeseung was now confused.. he thought you were speaking nonsense at one point.

“Heeseung..look..I-i like you okay..and I know you don’t like me back..” Oh… you were still making eye contact with him..but soon enough your vision was becoming blurry. You were crying. Heeseung hated seeing you cry. It made him sad. But right now he was feeling shocked..more than sad. His childhood friend has a crush on him..he feels bad truthfully..for not being able to return to the same feelings..

‘C'mon please say something..’ you thought to yourself. You are already embarrassed by crying in front of him and knowing you would get rejected. Heeseung looked down for a quick second before speaking up. “Yn..I’m sorry..but yeah..I’m sorry..” heeseung was at a loss of words himself. He didn’t know what to say. You sob a bit harder making heeseung pull you into a hug, trying to comfort you. Just like the old days..when your young love existed, but that’s far too late.. and you’ll always blame yourself for it. You pull away from the hug and stand up..

“Don’t apologize I expected it..especially when you like y’know..” Heeseung only nodded his head at your words. “I wish it didn’t end this way..but I don’t think I can continue being friends with you..” your next sentence shocked heeseung. What do you mean? All of those years of your guy’s friendship is now being thrown out. “Huh? Yn please tell me you're joking.." Now Heeseung was close to crying. He may not have liked you in a romantic way but he still loved you and cared for you. You were his best friend and he couldn’t afford to lose you.

“I’m not..heeseung if i continue being friends with you my feelings are only going to grow stronger..then why did I try to avoid you..?” Your words made sense..you were avoiding him and now that he knows you try feelings about him. You only did it for his happiness, but you not being his friend anymore was not happy. Heeseung begged you. But you wouldn’t budge. You only apologized.

“Heeseung..I’m sorry..but thank you..I’ll still love you from afar of course..” and with that you walked away.

And that’s how the friendship ended…

Author’s note: I had trouble trying to figure out the main plot for this Drabble umm third-ish attempt at angst it sucks I know I promise to get better (I hope) anyways love you all mwah

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[nameless-ken]

Silent Confessions, Loud Masks - Billy Hargrove x Reader Series

(Please reblog!!!)

Happy reading! Comment below to be added to taglist.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: mostly fluff & angst, cursing

Introduction | Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three

Masterlist

(song for this chapter <3)

You and Robin weave through the bustling corridors of Starcourt Mall, the newest vibrant hub of Hawkins. The air is alive with chatter, the scent of fresh pretzels, and the pulse of '80s synthpop playing in every store.

“I can't wait for the homecoming game, seriously. The whole band has been putting in extra hours, perfecting our routine. It's going to be epic.” Robin exclaims, pulling you into a store full of dresses. 

“Yeah, you guys have been killing it in practice. Honestly, it's the only reason I ever show up to those games.” Robin laughs, but there's a hint of nervousness behind it. “Well, there's another reason I'm excited. You know, besides the game.”

“Oh yeah? What's that?” You question her, racking through overly puffy dresses. Robin hesitates for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with a dress in front of her.

“It's... it's Vickie. I've been wanting to ask her to the dance, but I'm always so nervous around her. We're positioned beside each other in the marching band, and I can't stop thinking about her.”

“Robin, you should totally go for it. You'll never know unless you try.” Robin's expression flickers with uncertainty, her shoulders sagging slightly.

“I wish it were that easy, but you know how it is in this town. If anyone found out... I'd be the talk of Hawkins.”

“Hey, you know I'll always have your back, no matter what. And whoever you choose to be with, they'll be lucky to have you.” Robin smiles gratefully, her eyes glistening with emotion.

“Thanks, you're the best. So, what about you? Anyone special you're thinking about going to the dance with?” You shrug nonchalantly, avoiding her gaze but Robin sees through your casual facade, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

“Come on, spill the beans. I know there's someone you've got your eye on.” You roll your eyes playfully, but her words linger in your mind.

“Maybe someone like Billy?” You freeze, feeling heated just from the sound of his name. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on between you two but I know you better than anyone and I can tell there’s something there. So, why don’t you take your own advice and do something about it?” 

You know she’s right but you can’t help the feeling of rejection sink in that is more than likely to happen if you were to ask him. No matter how many small moments you’ve shared, you're afraid it hasn’t been enough for Billy to be comfortable showing you off like that. People in this town would consider that something serious and maybe sometimes, you wish it was. 

"Moving on," you remark, pushing aside the tumultuous thoughts about Billy and the complexities of your feelings for him. You take a deep breath, focusing on the present moment.

"So, are we aiming for cute and flirty or bold and daring for the dance?" Robin's voice breaks through your internal turmoil, bringing you back to reality.

You glance at the racks of dresses, each one shimmering with its own unique charm. With a determined smile, you shake off the lingering doubts and dive into surveying every dress on the rack.

"Cute and flirty, I think," you reply and grab the perfect dress, wanting to pick something that you like but also might have a certain pair of eyes on you the whole night. 

You emerge from the fitting rooms, twirling and admiring your reflection in the mirror, Robin being your usual hype woman. 

“Yeah Billy won’t be able to take his eyes off you.” Robin teases as you walk back in the dressing room and pull the curtain shut, shooting out your middle finger at her and she lets out a boisterous laugh. 

You walk with Robin towards the entrance of the field, the excitement of the homecoming game palpable in the air. 

“I’ll catch you after.” Robin says and you nod, waving her off and she rushes to join the rest of the marching band. 

As you approach the ticket booth, you fish out the necessary cash and exchange it for your ticket. Ticket in hand, you move past the bottom of the bleachers. That’s when you see him. 

Billy and his friends huddling beneath the bleachers, the acrid scent of smoke drifting towards you. Your eyes meet Billy's, and a shiver runs down your spine as he sends you a knowing wink, a silent message passing between you. You quickly avert your gaze, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.

Feeling a knot form in your stomach, you focus on the ground beneath your feet, your heart pounding in your chest. Ignoring the emotions fostering within, you make your way up the metal bleachers, the seats creaking beneath your weight.

Finally reaching a seat near the top, you take a deep breath. A part of you wishes you could’ve walked up to him without the fear of judgement from his friends and a part of you wishes to keep what you have secret because in those moments of just the two of you, it’s something so special that you want to keep between you both. 

You don’t really know anything about football. As the game starts, the crowd grows louder and louder, to the point where you can’t handle the shouting anymore. After you watch Robin and the true stars of the evening finish their halftime routine, you make your way back down the bleacher steps, the slight quietness of below easing the pain in your ears. 

“Tired of the game already?” You look over, noticing Billy’s lone form in the shadows. 

“Never cared for it honestly.” You respond, walking closer to him, finding the familiar cloud of smoke surrounding him. “You know, if you keep smoking like that, it’ll kill you.” 

“Let’s hope.” You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious. You hope for the first. 

“Why are you here anyway? Didn’t peg you as someone with school spirit.” You lean against one of the cool metal bars, watching his lips wrap around the cigarette. 

“Max is here with some friends, dad made me bring her.” 

You nod, acknowledging Billy's explanation. "Family duties," you say with a hint of understanding. "I get it."

Billy takes another drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing brightly in the darkness. "Yeah," he mutters. "Something like that."

The distant roar of the crowd filters down to you, but down here, beneath the bleachers, it's more subdued, almost peaceful. You find yourself drawn to the relative quietness as you continue your conversation with Billy.

"So, how's everything else going?" you inquire, hoping to shift the topic away from school-related matters.

Billy takes a moment before replying, his gaze thoughtful. "Hey, are you planning on going to the dance?" he asks suddenly, his tone casual.

You're taken aback by the question, the unexpectedness of it causing you to pause for a moment. "Yeah, actually," you reply, a smile forming on your lips. "I'm going with Robin and some of her other friends."

Billy nods in understanding. "Cool," he says, his tone casual. "I'll probably just tag along with my friends too."

You glance at him, catching his eye for a brief moment. There's something in his expression, a hint of hesitation perhaps, as if he wants to say more but decides against it. He takes another puff of his cigarette, the smoke swirling around him like a protective shield.

“I guess I’ll see you there.” You muster up the courage to give his arm a touch, easing his anxious nature. 

“Dress pretty for me.” He comments with a sly smirk gracing his lips. 

You chuckle at Billy's comment, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Always the charmer, aren't you?" you tease, playfully rolling your eyes.

Billy's smirk widens at your response, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't blame a guy for trying," he says with a shrug.

You laugh, feeling the tension between you dissipate in the warmth of the moment. "Well, I'll do my best to impress," you respond with a playful smile.

"I'm looking forward to it, little mouse," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of sincerity.

You feel a flutter of excitement in your chest at his words, the prospect of seeing Billy at the dance suddenly feeling more thrilling than ever before. With a final nod, you turn away and walk off. As you make your way back up the bleachers, the sound of the crowd surrounds you once more, but this time, it's accompanied by a sense of anticipation for the homecoming dance.

As you and Robin enter the bustling gymnasium, the pulsating beat of the music washes over you, mingling with the excited chatter of your classmates. The gym is transformed into a kaleidoscope of colors, with twinkling lights casting a warm glow over the dance floor.

You catch sight of Billy almost immediately, his presence commanding attention even in the midst of the crowd. His attire remains unchanged, a testament to his unwavering sense of self. Despite the casualness of his outfit - jeans, button-up shirt and a leather jacket - there's an undeniable allure about him that draws your gaze like a magnet. You can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest as your eyes lock with his across the room.

You never expected his simple outfit to stir such feelings within you, but there's something undeniably captivating about Billy that defies explanation.

Before you can dwell on your thoughts any further, Robin tugs at your arm, pulling you towards an open table. "Come on, let's find a spot," she says with a grin, her excitement contagious.

You tear your gaze away from Billy, reluctantly letting yourself be led to the table. As you settle into your seat, the music swells around you.

As the music pulses through the air and Robin convinces you to join her on the dance floor, you find yourself swept up in the rhythm, losing yourself in the music and the movement. Robin's infectious energy encourages you to let go of your inhibitions, and soon you're dancing, laughing and twirling to the beat.

But amidst the swirling lights and loud music, you can't shake the feeling of someone's eyes on you. Every time you steal a glance in Billy's direction, you find his gaze fixed on you, unwavering and intense. A strange heat rises within you, and you can't help but wonder if it's the result of your dancing or the intensity of Billy's stare.

Feeling overwhelmed by the sensation, you gently excuse yourself from the dance floor, telling Robin that you need a moment to catch your breath. She nods understandingly as you make your way towards the exit. 

Stepping out into the cool night air, you find yourself in the same alleyway beside the gym, the distant sounds of the dance echoing in the background. Leaning against the wall, you take a deep breath, relishing the quietness and solitude.

But your moment is short-lived as you hear footsteps approaching. Turning, you're surprised to see Billy standing there, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

"Hey," he says timidly, breaking the silence.

"Hey.” You reply, crossing your arms behind your back against the cool brick. 

For a moment, neither of you speak, the air hangs heavy with unspoken words. But then Billy takes a step closer, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decipher your thoughts.

"I... I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he says, his voice hesitant.

You offer him a small smile. "Yeah, I'm okay," you assure him, though the truth is far more complicated than you're willing to admit.

As the distant strains of a slow song drift out from the gym, filling the alleyway with its soft melody, you're taken aback when Billy holds out his hand to you, a silent invitation written in his eyes.

For a moment, you hesitate, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present swirling around you. But then, something within urges you to take a chance, to step into the unknown. With a tentative smile, you place your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.

Billy pulls you close, his arms enveloping you in a tender embrace that seems to erase the world around you, leaving only the two of you swaying to the music in the softly lit alleyway. His touch, surprisingly gentle, sends a shiver down your spine.

"You know how to dance?" you ask, a smile playing on your lips, unable to contain your amusement.

Billy's soft chuckle fills the empty space around you, a sound that echoes off the walls. "My mom taught me when I was younger," he explains, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "We used to dance around our living room on nights when my dad was away."

A pang of empathy tugs at your heartstrings as you sense the weight of his past in the way he holds you now. "I'm sorry," you murmur, searching for the right words to offer comfort.

Billy shakes his head, a bittersweet smile gracing his lips. "It's okay," he reassures you softly, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "I haven't danced like this since she left."

“Well, I’m honored,” you respond, feeling a warmth spread through you at the intimacy of the moment.

“You’re too good to me,” Billy mumbles against the side of your head, his lips brushing against your hair. “You’re much better off without me.”

“You’re not the judge of that,” you say gently, pulling away to meet his gaze and you're struck by the vulnerability reflected in his eyes. 

"Maybe not," he concedes, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you know the many mistakes I’ve made that I'm not proud of."

You reach up, gently tracing his jawline with your fingertips. "We've all made mistakes, Billy," you say softly. "But that doesn't define who you are. It's about what you do next."

He exhales slowly, as if releasing a weight he's carried for far too long. "I want to do better," he admits, his voice tinged with determination. "For you, for myself... for her."

You nod, feeling a swell of hope rise within you. "Then let's take it one step at a time," you say, a small smile playing on your lips. "Together."

Billy's lips curve into a genuine smile, and he nods in agreement. "Together," he copies, before pulling you close once more, the music enveloping you both as you continue to sway in the dimly lit alleyway.

"Does this mean you'll stop ignoring me at school?" you ask, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty. "Will you... want to be seen together?"

Billy's expression shifts, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features. "I've been scared, afraid of dragging you into my mess."

You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, your touch grounding him in the present moment. "I'm not afraid," you assure him, your voice unwavering. "I choose you, Billy. Mess and all."

“I’m just not sure I’m ready for that.” Billy stops swaying, moving his hand from your back and runs it through his hair. You can feel him mentally pulling away before he takes a step back. 

“I’m not going to make you do something you don’t feel comfortable with but it hurts me when I can’t even walk up to you at school or outside of school when you're with your friends because of their ridicule that is always directed toward me.” You reach out your hand in the unwanted space Billy put between you. 

“What are you so afraid of? Why do you care so much about what other people think?” You watch as he runs a hand through his hair and grips it slightly in frustration.

"It's not just about what other people think," he confesses, his voice laced with vulnerability. 

“You can’t fool me Billy. This facade you always put up.”

As Billy meets your gaze, you can sense the walls he's been painstakingly building around himself begin to rise once more, brick by brick, shielding him from the vulnerability of your conversation. His eyes flicker with a mixture of relief and apprehension, as if he's been longing to retreat into the safety of his defenses but fears the consequences of letting them fall.

"I know," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, but there's a hint of distance in his tone. "I've spent so long pretending, trying to shield myself from the pain of being judged."

Your heart sinks as you witness him pulling away, his vulnerability overshadowed by his protective barriers. "Billy," you reach out, your voice a gentle plea, but he takes another step back, distancing himself from your touch.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice tinged with resignation. "I thought I could do this, but... I can't do this."

You watch helplessly as he retreats further into himself, his walls rising higher with each passing moment. "But Billy, we can face this together," you insist, desperation creeping into your voice. "I'm not going anywhere."

He shakes his head, his expression pained as he turns away, the distance between you widening with each step he takes. "I can't," he says softly, his words barely audible. "Not like this."

Tears well up in your eyes as you watch Billy disappear into the shadows, his departure leaving you feeling emptier than ever before. The weight of his absence settles heavily upon your shoulders, the alleyway suddenly feeling desolate and cold without his presence.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to ward off the chill that seems to seep into your bones. The echoes of his retreating footsteps continue to reverberate in your mind, a haunting reminder of the distance that now stretches between you.

A sense of helplessness washes over you. The ache of rejection gnaws at your heart, leaving you feeling adrift in your own sea of uncertainty and sorrow.

You brush away the tears staining your cheeks and summon the strength to turn around, heading back into the gym. With a determined effort, you conceal the ache in your heart behind a forced smile, unwilling to let the pain consume you in front of others.

It’s been a couple weeks since your encounter with Billy at the dance. He’s barely looked your way at school and you’ve tried to get his attention, leaving little notes in his locker or setting down freshly baked cookies you made the night before on his desk in English. 

He doesn’t touch them until the bell rings and slides them into his backpack, leaving without saying a word to you. You know that night in the alleyway, something switched between you two. There was more intensity in the way you moved together. You were practically drawn to each other like magnets until he forced himself away to avoid any sort of commitment from happening. 

You know Billy still has a lot to figure out and deal with the turmoil in his life. You just wish he’d let you in and see how much you want to help him find his way. 

The night envelops you in its dark embrace as you receive a quiet call from Billy, beckoning you to meet him at the small park down the street. Despite the late hour, you don't hesitate, knowing there's a reason he needs you.

When you arrive, the moonlight reveals Billy swaying slightly on one swing and as he turns his head at your footsteps you notice the multiple bruises marring Billy's jaw and as others hide beneath his shirt, a painful testament to the violence he endures at home. 

“Billy, what happened?” Your heart aches at the sight. You walk over and stand in front of him, looking down. 

Billy's gaze flickers with pain and shame. "The usual, my dad," he admits, his voice heavy and gruff. "He... he got super drunk and lost his temper again."

Your heart clenches at his words, the weight of his suffering settling heavily upon you. "I'm so sorry, Billy."

Billy offers you a weak smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and despair. "I know you probably don’t want to talk to me but thanks for coming," he says softly. "I didn't know who else to call."

“Of course Billy, I’m always here for you.” Your arm twitches, wanting to touch him but leave it at your side at the sight of him, knowing he probably doesn’t want to be touched. “We should really call Chief Hopper, Billy, this is so out of hand-”

“No. No cops. That’ll make it worse.”

“I can’t just sit by and do nothing when you’re suffering so much.” You sigh and move to sit on the swing next to him. “Asking for help doesn’t make you weak.”

“I just have to make it through to graduation and then I’m leaving. He can’t stop me then.” 

“Where are you going to go?” You pry, wanting to hear what he wants out of his future. 

“Back to California. It’s the only place I could see myself staying for the rest of my life.” He admits. 

“Seems like you have it all figured out.” A slight pang of sadness fills your chest at him not mentioning you in his future plans. You shake that thought out of your head. You aren’t even together, why would he make room for you? 

“I’m sorry for leaving you at the dance that night.” You’re surprised by Billy’s admission. 

“No, I’m sorry for pressing you. I know how difficult it can be to open up and let things in.” 

“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for me being an asshole to you.” Billy shakes his head with a scoff before looking you in the eyes. “I can’t - I don’t know how to put this into words. This is new to me. I’ve never wanted somebody so much before in my life.”

“Then stop being so stubborn.” You give him a soft smile, trying to lighten the mood. 

“I think that’s in my DNA, little mouse. You’ll have to try harder to fix that part of me.” 

“Billy,” You reach over and take his hand, softly running your finger over his bruised knuckles. “I’m not trying to fix you. I just want to be by your side as you find your way. You deserve someone who wants to show you the good things but sticks by you for all the bad things too.” Billy avoids your gaze, keeping his eyes locked on your hands, connected between you. 

“I can’t hold your hand without noticing how wrong mine looks in yours. I don’t deserve the gentleness of you combined with my ugliness.” Your heart aches at Billy's words, his self-deprecation cutting through you like a knife. You squeeze his hand gently, refusing to let him retreat into his own despair.

"Billy," you say softly, your voice laced with determination. "You are not defined by your past or your scars. You are worthy of love and kindness, regardless of what you believe."

He meets your gaze, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "But I've done terrible things," he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. "I don't deserve someone like you."

You shake your head, a surge of empathy welling within you. "We've all made mistakes, Billy. It's how we choose to move forward that matters," you say, your words infused with conviction. "And I choose to stand by you, to help you heal and grow, no matter how long it takes."

Billy's defenses begin to crumble, his facade of strength giving way to vulnerability. "I don't know if I can change," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We'll figure it out together," you reassure him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere."

A flicker of hope ignites in Billy's eyes, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up. My dad’s at work so it’ll be just us. You can stay over if you want.” You gently tug on Billy's hand, urging him to his feet as you lead him out of the park and towards your home.

As you walk, Billy's steps falter, his hesitation palpable. "Are you sure about this?" he asks, uncertainty lacing his words.

You turn to face him, your expression comforting. "I'm sure," you say firmly, giving his hand another reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to face this alone anymore." Billy's shoulders relax slightly at your words, a sense of relief washing over him.

When you arrive at your home, you guide Billy inside, the warmth of the familiar surroundings enveloping you both.

"I'll grab you some clean clothes," you say, disappearing into your room for a moment before returning with a soft towel and a change of your dad's clothes.

“There’s a first aid kit beneath the sink if you want to use it.” You tell him, not knowing if he wants you to help him or leave him alone. 

Billy accepts the clothes gratefully, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thanks," he says, his voice hoarse with emotion and he disappears into the bathroom to freshen up.

You grab an extra blanket and pillow for Billy and set up the couch. Billy exits the bathroom, a small band-aid on his cheek, the redness from his wounds washed away. 

“You can take my bed, it’ll be more comfortable than the couch.” You gesture to your bedroom door. 

“Don’t be silly, Y/N.” He grabs the blanket and pillow off the couch and ushers you to follow him. “Unless you’re uncomfortable.” He pauses. 

“It’s okay.” You smile and close your bedroom door behind him as he walks in and sets up his pillow and blanket on your bed, carefully and slowly laying down. He winces as he rolls over slightly, grabbing at his side. 

“Do you need some ice?” 

“No, It’s okay, I’ll just wait till morning.” He watches your movements as you settle into bed beside him. 

“Goodnight Billy.” You reach over and turn your lamp off, turning on your side to face him. 

“Goodnight, little mouse.” He whispers. You watch the exhaustion take over him. In the darkness of your room, for the first time, he falls asleep. You smile, watching his eyes flutter and his breath hollow out, chest rising and falling slowly. 

You’re unfamiliar with the emotion flooding you right now. With Billy safe under your roof, you vow to yourself to do everything in your power to help him heal and grow, to show him that he’s worthy of love and kindness, no matter what demons haunt him. 

You can’t help the words that tumble out of you, unexpectedly. 

“I love you,” you whisper. “I love you so much it might be crazy to admit.”

Taglist:@msbillyhargrove @uselessbutinteresting @milestellergfs @periwinkle-quill @ghostcastaway @iletmytittiestitty-russ @missingbillyhargrove @lotionlamp @billys-pretty-babe @isimpfortoomanypeople @rosey96 @girlwifteef @miheartsedthings @empathyroad

[braveclementine]

Chapter 25

Warnings: 18+readersonly, oral sex, smut, pet names, King kink

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

It had been about two weeks since you had gotten back from the Bahamas. That place had seemed like a dream and a second life. Now, everyone was back in the tower- or traveling between the tower and their countries they governed.

T'Challa and you were privately planning a quiet Wakandan ceremony to officially make you the Queen of Wakanda. Every time you talked about the conversation, you wanted to throw up. The idea of becoming a Queen of a country you didn't belong to was uncomfortable to you. You weren't even sure the people there would appreciate you.

Meanwhile, Thor was working his 'God of Fertility' magic, so that though you were having sex with everyone you were soulmated to, hopefully only T'Challa would take root so that he had an heir to the throne. Which, naturally, sped up T'Challa's want for the ceremony.

Shuri, Okoye, and Nakia were also helping plan this ceremony and you mostly took a backseat, really only inputting what you wanted if it came to a certain colour of the plates or flowers.

You weren't allowed to choose the style of your dress either, but you could at least choose the colour. You just told them to match you to T'Challa because you really didn't want to show up in a colour that would clash with his.

In the meantime, you were also trying out a lot of your traits like the archery and using the flexibility to train. Now that you had mechanical knowledge, Tony was even more excited when you came down to the lab because then you could help him with his projects. Not to mention your photographic memory from Stephen- although now you understood why he couldn't be around the Avengers for more than a few hours at the most.

Y/S/N and you hadn't really had a chance to talk yet between everything about your father's death.

Tony had arranged it so that it was a week after you guys had gotten home from the Bahamas. He had everything planned and neither of you had to lift a finger or push over a penny (although apparently now all of Tony's money was yours so-).

But between recovering a week, the funeral, and now planning for a Wakandan marriage ceremony, you had barely been able to even see her, much less talk to her.

Elizabeth had been sending you update texts. Pietro, who had never lived in the tower anyways, had moved down to Ohio along with Hogun. The two of them shared an apartment that was near Elizabeth's house so that they could continue to court her as she finished up her last year of High School. Pietro however, did come back every weekend so that he could spend time with Jessie and Katherine too.

Vision and Wanda were preparing to go down and see her as well, but both of them were unsure of whether they would stay like the other two or not.

Oh! And Heimdall was down there as well- though only for a few weeks- as he was courting Katerina from gymnastics as well. Apparently they met at the wedding and they found out they were soulmates. Neither of them had any other soulmates so that was kind've cute.

After another week, everything was set. You and T'Challa were the first to arrive in Wakanda. You had gaped, looking out the window, seeing everything that they had built. Everything just looked so intricate, advanced, and beautiful.

"I think you'd like to see where Bucky lived after the Avengers disassembled for a little bit." T'Challa's voice was soft next to your ear.

You nodded and then said, "This place is beautiful T."

T'Challa kissed the back of your ear. "Are you nervous my Nkosazana?"

"A little bit. I don't think your people will like me very much." You admitted. "I mean, from what I know, you have very ancient customs and I. . . I'm not." You gave a laugh. "I mean, you're marrying an outsider."

"We can't help where our soulmates live." T'Challa said simply. "And I wouldn't trade you for any of 'em."

You blushed, turning away from the window so that you could snuggle into T'Challa's side until the quinjet landed.

Shuri, Okoye, and T'Challa's mother, Queen Ramonda, was waiting for us along with another set of the dora milaje were waiting on either side.

You quickly hooked your arm around T'Challa's around the two of you walked down the Quinjet ramp to meet them. Shuri was waiting there in a T-shirt, a pair of long pants, a belt wrapped around the both at the same time. Her hair was tied up in space buns, a choker around her neck.

"Y/N!" She squealed, darting forward to throw her arms around you. You could feel yourself relaxing and smiling as you hugged her back.

Queen Ramonda smiled. She was absolutely stunning, wearing some formal white dress and headdress that you wished you knew the name to.

It was also the first time you had seen Okoye in her full red and silver uniform, her spear in hand. She looked on stoically as though you didn't know each other. But she also looked at T'Challa like that, so it was probably just a thing.

"Welcome to Wakanda Princess Y/N." Queen Ramonda said, setting forward to take your hand.

"Thank you Queen Ramonda." You said awkwardly, hoping beyond hope that you were actually allowed to call her that.

T'Challa smiled, hugging his mother. "Come, let us go inside."

He took you inside, Shuri, and his mother following- which didn't feel right. Then you remembered that she wouldn't even be the Queen anymore since you were married to T'Challa. After the ceremony you would be the Queen of Wakanda.

You nearly threw up right then and there.

T'Challa sensed your nerves, moving his arm from yours, to hook it around your waist, pulling you close to his side, kissing the top of your head, "It's going to be fine, even fun, you'll see my Nkosazana."

You nodded. His voice was alluring and you were sure that everything was going to be alright. There was just a small nagging feeling that you couldn't shake. Although you weren't sure what that nagging thing was.

T'Challa showed you around the entire palace, including Shuri's lab. He showed you the specially designed cryo tank that Bucky had been in until Shuri had managed to fix him, getting rid of his trigger words.

After that, T'Challa led you up to the main wing where Dora Milaje lined the hallways and also where the royal bedrooms were.

He opened up the door, letting the both of you into his room.

You looked around in interest. On your left where you entered, there were several tribal decorations as the wall curved. When the wall flattened out to be straight, there were two bookcases in the wall on either side of the two doors, one of which led to the closet and one that led to the bathroom, before the wall curved again and there were more tribal decorations there as well.

The bed was directly across from the room, white sheets and two pillows propped up against the headboard. It was square shaped and lower to the floor than you would have expected.

In the middle of the room, there was some sort of funnel there where four seats sat underneath it.

"It's the hologram table." T'Challa said, noticing you peering at it curiously. He gave a little laugh, "Because even in sleep a King is never not working."

You nodded, looking at the doors that led out onto a large balcony that overlooked the all of Wakanda. They weren't glass or had any curtains to pull out over them. Instead, they seemed to be woven of metal, small slots between them so that when they were pulled closed, decorative patterns would break out on the floor.

Yellow lights hung everywhere, circular in shape, hanging by metal wire of the same colour.

"I like it." You said, turning to T'Challa with a grin. "It's different and it's very you."

T'Challa checked the one and only clock in the room, "Hmm, we have time before dinner." He picked you up in his arms, bridal style, carrying you over the threshold. "You'll have to let Captain Rogers know about that one."

You giggled at T'Challa's playfulness as he brought you over to the bed, laying you down on it carefully before crawling over you. You kissed him excitedly. "Are we trying out the bed my King?"

He chuckled under his breath, making shivers go down your spine. "Indeed we are Nkosazana." He captured your lips in his again, as his hands slipped down to the hem of the dress you had decided to wear to meet his mother and sister in.

He pulled it upwards, letting you sit up a moment so that you could toss the dress over the side of the bed.

T'Challa pinned your hands lightly above your head with one hand, slowly and sensually kissing up your body. You could feel every spot that his lips lingered. You closed your eyes, lips parted slightly as you felt him press another low kiss right above your belly button.

You flickered your eyes open again as you felt his fingers undo the clasp of your bra, pulling it from your body to join the dress on the floor.

You let out a tiny mewl as his lips wrapped around your nipple. You rubbed your thighs together, wishing that you could get some sort of friction from him. But you also knew that T'Challa was not one to tease either.

"Patience Nkosazana," He murmured, teeth grazing over your now erect nipple, moving over to the other.

Your chest heaved as he finished with your breasts, before moving up to kiss you again. You smiled up at him as he pulled back. He grinned down at you before he pulled your knickers down your legs, tossing them behind him.

He hooked your legs over his shoulders, releasing the hold on your hands as he buried himself in your weeping pussy.

"T!" You gasped, moaning at the feeling of his cool tongue against your hot core, licking you, tasting you. "Oh fuck!"

You could feel his smile, his cheeks growing a little as his smile widened. His hands were firm around your thighs to hold you still. Your hands were gripping the pillow by your head as your orgasm started to build up inside of you. "T I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead my Nkosazana." T'Challa murmured against your lower lips, vibrations pushing you over the cliff, the waterfall dripping down, T'Challa licking up every drop you gave him.

He slowly lowered your legs from his shoulders as you came down from the slight high. He stroked himself a few times before he moved his tip through your wet folds, collecting your slick, before pushing in.

You both moaned at the lovely feeling. Your arms came up, sliding your hands behind the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss as he started to move through you. His hands came down, fingers sliding smoothly down your shoulders as he caressed you tenderly.

Your breaths came out in quick pants as he sped up a little, both of your foreheads together sweetly as he made love to you. "T. . ." You whimpered as the next orgasm came upon you. He sighed in content, "Y/N."

After you both collapsed on the bed, he pulled out of you before heading off to the bathroom to grab a wet washcloth, taking care of you.

"Now then." He said, once you both dressed in fresh, new clothes. "I think we should go downstairs and grace the citizens with our presence, shall we?"

You giggled. You were much more relaxed now that you had spent some time here, "We shall, my King."

[svefs]

Definitely the better Suzuki ever 👍

TW!: Cursing and mentions of alcoholism, NOT incest FFS, we love Iruma, IruAzz shipper reader frfr, I support other ships (not the bad bad ones y'all calm down)too don't attack me, im high and it's 3am, Fem!reader, hey bbg you look kinda cute

Summary: You're Iruma Suzuki's younger sister cause yes. Not really known by most of his friends since you're like 10 years younger than him (basically a kid that still can't attend school). That is untill you followed your older brother to Babyls secretly (how? Idk why are you asking me im defo no the author 🤷‍♀️)

-------------------------------------------------------

"Shichiro" said Kalego surrounded by an ominous aura while the misfits are sweating buckets in the background.

Balam Shichiro was only trying to help a toddler. Getting a lecture by co-worker was definitely not in list.

"BAT!" you screamed on the top of your lungs as if you were a drunkard

Uh oh

Few hours earlier

"Pera! upsies,"you babbled wanting to be carried.

"Y/N-sama, please forgive me but I am a bit busy here," Opera said while carrying the dirty laundry.

You huffed and walked away pouting at the fact that Opera was busy. It's childish but your still a kid so do whatever you want 🤷‍♀️

Unfortunately, a bright idea sparked into your mind. Your adoptive grandpa is the principal of Babyls, the school your big brother goes too. So if we're to go on a little adventure you'll be able to get your older brother and maybe your grandpa to play with you. It's basically child's play (how ironic), but you're a human child so it's fine.

So the journey begins, with you leaving Opera in a state of panic while you're following your carefree brother and his two friends while they walk to school. Of course it is harder for you to catch up to them since you can barely walk but you can crawl your way through hell if you wanted to.

Once you reached the school entrance it was basically empty, meaning you weren't fast enough to play with your brother before his class starts. As you were about to enter through the door, a deep voice startled you.

"A child?"

You look behind to see a tall man with chicken feet and short white hair. Iruma has told you about a white haired tall teacher with chicken feet named Balam Shichiro that is intimidating but kind nonetheless. So what do you do? The only logical thing duh.

"Bal!"

you shouted rendering him speechless.

"You know me?"

he asked while picking you up while you answered by nodding.

"VROOM VROOM!!"

"Vroom....?"

Few minutes after (he finally got the memo)

"So.... you want me to bring you to Iruma?"you nodded in response as he started walking somewhere. You were completely relaxed in Balam's hold which made him question your identity even more since he was used to people being scared of his appearance.Getting to Iruma was not really that hard. You can tell where he is all the time especially with the people he hangs out with. Poor Iruma, can't even live his school life quietly without drawing attention. But since class already started, he's definitely in the Royal one. He wouldn't be the type to skip class at all.

Back to the present

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA BIG BAD BAT!!!" you started shrieking definitely startling half the class from your sudden outburst.

"Y/N! Calm down," your brother takes you away from Balam's hold inorder to try and calm you down. Did it work?

Lol no.

Why?

Cause seeing a certain pink haired male, made you think of all the times your brother would come back home just to rant to you about him. Oh the burning pain, hearing your brother talk about his oh-so obvious crush that he has yet to realise. Almost felt bad for this Azz guy if it weren't for the fact this Azz guy has also yet to realise his feelings. This is too much bs for you to handle. Definitely too much.

Meanwhile Opera was still panicking at the mansion lmfao

Note:

You have no idea how bored I am

Request are finally open tho