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solxamber · 2 days ago

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And I Pick...

In which you choose the club that caught your eye

Part 1

After much contemplation you've finally decided to pick the:

Basketball Club

The basketball court was quiet for all of two seconds after you announced your decision.

Then Ace exploded.

"HA! I knew you’d pick us! I called it!" He was practically doing laps around the court, pointing at nothing in particular. "Ace Trappola: the ultimate recruiter, the club MVP, and now the guy who brought you on board! This is the best day of my life!"

"Eh, it’s about time," Floyd drawled, stretching lazily. "Took ya long enough to figure out where the fun is." His sharp-toothed grin widened. "Now we can play my version of full-contact basketball. Hehehe."

"Absolutely not," Jamil cut in, but Floyd wasn’t listening.

"Don’t worry," Floyd said, throwing an arm around your shoulders like you’d been lifelong teammates. "If you survive the first practice, you’ll survive all the practices. Probably."

Ace jogged back over, breathless but triumphant. "I told you we’re the best club! No boring rules, no endless laps like in Deuce's lame track team, and best of all—" He struck a dramatic pose, arms wide. "You get to hang out with me every day!"

"Please don’t make them quit on the first week," Jamil muttered, giving you a look that seemed to say, Are you sure about this?

"Quit? Nahhh!" Ace grinned. "They’re gonna thrive here. I’ll even teach them my signature moves—like my no-look, backwards, mid-air layup."

"You can’t even do that," Jamil said flatly.

"Not yet," Ace shot back. "But it’s the thought that counts."

Floyd leaned in closer, his grin somehow growing wider. "You better keep up, shrimpy. Otherwise, I might have to… spice things up a little."

"Spice things up?" you echoed, immediately suspicious.

"He means doing things like replacing the basketballs with watermelons," Jamil deadpanned.

Ace snorted. "Or throwing the ball at the hoop so hard it breaks the backboard. Oh wait, that actually happened. Twice."

"It was fun," Floyd said, completely unrepentant.

Jamil sighed like a man who’d aged a decade in the last five minutes. But then, to your surprise, he turned to you and offered a small, genuine smile. "Still… I’m glad you’re here. Welcome to the team."

The words were simple, but coming from Jamil, they felt like a warm endorsement.

Ace clapped his hands together, clearly ready to move things along. "Alright, enough talking! Let’s get you on the court and see what you’ve got!"

"Or we could start slow," Jamil suggested, but Ace was already dragging you toward the center of the court, Floyd trailing behind with a basketball under one arm.

"Don’t worry," Floyd said, tossing the ball up and catching it effortlessly. "If ya mess up, we’ll just laugh at ya a little. No big deal~."

"No one’s laughing at anyone," Jamil said firmly, already pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ace threw an arm around your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "Ignore him. We’re gonna have a blast! First practice starts now!"

You weren’t sure what you’d gotten yourself into, but judging by their enthusiasm (and Floyd’s maniacal laughter), you were in for one chaotic ride.

Track and Field Club

The moment you declared your allegiance to the track and field club, Deuce’s face lit up like someone had just told him he passed his midterms.

“You’re… really joining?” he asked, like he needed double confirmation. When you nodded, his grin widened, the kind that made him look both relieved and excited. “That’s awesome! Uh—welcome to the team! Seriously, it’s great to have you.” His usual earnestness shone through, and he scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m still kind of learning the ropes, but we can figure things out together. It’s gonna be great!”

Jack, standing beside him, gave a firm nod of approval. “Good call. Track and field’s a solid choice. You’ll fit right in.” His tail wagged just enough to betray how happy he was, even if his tone stayed calm.

"Yeah!" Deuce agreed. “And, uh, don’t worry about keeping up or anything. It’s all about improving at your own pace. Right, Jack?”

“Sure,” Jack replied, glancing at you. Then he added, almost casually, “We’ll work on your stamina. You’re gonna need it.”

It took you a second to catch the faint glint in his eye, and then you remembered—oh no, the fridge comment. Jack had been disturbed ever since.

Deuce, oblivious to the subtext, chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s great at that stuff! He’s got this crazy endurance. Like, he can run forever. I’m still working on it, but, uh, you’re in good hands!”

Jack’s tail swished again. “Just be ready to push yourself. But don’t worry—we’ve got your back.”

“Exactly!” Deuce said, his fists clenching like he was ready to run a marathon right there. “This is gonna be awesome. I mean, not that it wasn’t already great, but now it’s even better. Right, Jack?”

Jack gave a small, satisfied smile. “Right.”

As they led you toward the field, you couldn’t help but wonder what you’d just signed up for. One thing was certain, though—Jack’s still thinking about that fridge, and he will make sure it’s not an issue anymore.

Board Game Club

The moment you declared your allegiance to the board game club, Azul adjusted his glasses, looking smugly pleased with himself, like he'd just negotiated the deal of the century.

"An excellent decision," he said, his voice as smooth as the perfectly polished board games stacked behind him. "With your addition to our club, I foresee a new golden age of strategic victories."

Idia, sitting half-hidden behind a pile of unopened game boxes, choked on his energy drink. "W-Wait, you’re serious? They actually chose us?" His hair flared a brilliant shade of pink for a moment before he pulled his hoodie tighter around himself. "Th-this isn’t some prank, right? Like, I’m not gonna look up and see them bolting out the door laughing, right?"

"Nope," you replied with a grin. "I’m all in."

Ortho, ever the enthusiastic hype man, zipped into the room with his jet thrusters. "Welcome to the club! Now we have a full party for dungeon raids. This is amazing!"

Azul cleared his throat, waving a hand. "Ahem, while cooperative RPGs are certainly an option, I believe we should start with a game of strategy and wit to introduce them properly. Perhaps a round of Chess of Betrayal?"

Idia groaned, sinking further into his hoodie. "Ugh, that game takes, like, three hours. If you’re gonna scare them away, at least wait until they’re too deep in to quit. Why don’t we start with something easy, like Goblin King Gauntlet?"

Ortho clapped his hands. "Ooh, I love that one! It has a random trap mechanic! Let’s play that!"

Azul raised an eyebrow, his smile shark-like. "Trap mechanics are hardly a proper welcome. It would be far better to demonstrate the finer nuances of strategy, wouldn’t you agree?"

Idia muttered something about Azul turning everything into a power play, but you interrupted before they could spiral into a full-blown debate. "Honestly, I’m fine with anything. Just deal me in."

Azul’s smirk widened. "Very well, then. I shall prepare the game board. And don’t worry, I’ll make certain you’re fully equipped for our upcoming campaigns. You’ll find we offer more than just fun—we offer victory."

Idia peeked out from his hoodie, a small, hopeful smile creeping onto his face. "You’re not bad at this whole club thing. Maybe this won’t be so terrible."

As they started setting up the game, you felt an unexpected warmth. Sure, it was just a board game club, but there was something endearing about their chaotic enthusiasm.

Though one thing was clear—Azul would probably try to sell you game tokens at some point, and Idia would absolutely try to teach you how to min-max your dice rolls.

But hey, you were ready for it.

Film Studies Club

When you announced your decision to join the film studies club, Vil paused mid-sip of his herbal tea, one elegantly arched eyebrow rising. For a moment, he looked like he was considering whether he had heard you correctly. Then, with a practiced air of nonchalance, he set the teacup down.

"Hm. Acceptable," he said coolly, though his tone betrayed a slight uptick of satisfaction. "It’s rare to find someone with enough taste to appreciate the art of cinema. I suppose your presence will be… useful."

But the slight curl of his lips gave him away.

He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his coat, and gave you an appraising look. "We have much to discuss. If you’re serious about this, you’ll need to commit entirely—no half-measures, no excuses. The camera is unforgiving, and I have no intention of allowing this club to falter under subpar contributions."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he was already pacing, gesturing dramatically like the star of an avant-garde production. "Lighting, blocking, composition—they are all integral to creating art, not merely entertainment. I trust you won’t embarrass yourself, or me, for that matter."

Despite his words, you caught the faintest hint of pride in his gaze as he turned to face you fully. "And, if for some reason, acting isn’t your strength, there are other roles. Cinematography, set design, editing… Perhaps backstage work would suit you, should you fail the audition."

He didn’t say it to be harsh; this was Vil’s version of encouragement. And as he continued outlining the club’s vision—"a modern renaissance in storytelling"—you realized he was genuinely excited to have you there, even if he’d rather gargle poison than openly admit it.

Finally, he stopped and gave you a small, approving nod. "Welcome to the film studies club. Don’t make me regret this."

Translation: I’m glad you’re here.

Science Club

The moment you announced your decision to join the science club, Rook’s eyes lit up like you’d just declared him the ruler of the universe.

"Ah, mon ami! What a magnifique choice!" he exclaimed, sweeping you into a theatrical bow so deep you thought he might topple over. "You possess the soul of an explorer, a true seeker of knowledge! Together, we shall unlock the mysteries of nature and celebrate its beauty in all its forms!"

"Uh… don’t scare them off, Rook," Trey interjected, though he was smiling. He adjusted his apron, clearly relieved that you hadn’t bolted under Rook’s enthusiastic greeting. "We’re glad to have you. Really. It’s nice to have someone else around who won’t accidentally set the lab on fire."

You raised an eyebrow. "That’s a low bar."

Trey shrugged. "You’d be surprised how many fail to meet it."

Before you could respond, Rook was already spinning grand plans. "Imagine the adventures we will have! Scaling mountains, crafting elixirs, nurturing delicate blossoms—ah, the poetry of science!" He clasped his hands to his chest, radiating so much joy that you were worried he’d break into song.

Trey, ever the grounded one, sighed fondly. "What he means is: we do a little bit of everything. Growing plants, chemistry experiments, cooking—you’ll fit right in. Assuming Rook doesn’t scare you off first."

Rook turned to Trey with an exaggerated gasp, as if the very suggestion of him being overwhelming was the greatest insult he’d ever received. "Chevalier des Roses, how could you wound me so?" He turned back to you with a theatrical flourish. "Fear not! I shall be your guide, your companion, your—"

"Assistant," Trey cut in, giving you a knowing look. "We'll assist you. Don’t let him take over your projects."

You grinned, feeling oddly at home already. Between Rook’s boundless enthusiasm and Trey’s steadying presence, you realized the science club might just be the perfect balance of chaos and calm.

Pop Music Club

When you announced your decision to join the Pop Music Club, Lilia was the first to react. He shot up from his chair with a dramatic flourish, his cape—where did the cape come from?—billowing as if on cue.

"Ah, an excellent choice! Welcome to the most electrifying club in the entire school!" Lilia declared, his voice reverberating like an arena announcer. He played an imaginary riff on an air guitar, complete with sound effects that you were almost certain were magically amplified.

Kalim clapped his hands, beaming as brightly as the sun. "This is going to be so much fun! We can sing duets, make up dances, throw a party for every new song we write—oh! We should have a welcome party for you right now!" He was already halfway to grabbing balloons out of thin air before Cater stopped him.

"Easy there, Kalim," Cater said with a laugh, pulling out his phone to snap a picture. "We haven’t even started jamming yet! Gotta document this first—‘New Member Alert 🚨🎶! Welcome to the coolest club at NRC!’” He posed next to you, flipping through filters. "Ooh, should we do a pastel vibe or go all-out neon?"

"Why not both?" Lilia suggested, somehow holding a tambourine he hadn’t been holding two seconds ago. He shook it with gusto, the jingles creating an impromptu beat.

Kalim joined in instantly, dancing around the room with energy that could probably power a small city. "This is going to be amazing! Do you play any instruments? Can you sing? Or maybe you’ll write the songs? Wait, can you do all three?!"

Before you could answer, Lilia leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "Don’t worry, even if you’re terrible, I can teach you. After all, I’ve had centuries of experience."

"Centuries of experience at what exactly?" you asked, though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted the answer.

"Everything," Lilia replied cryptically, shaking the tambourine once more for emphasis.

Cater gave you a wink. "Don’t let him intimidate you. He’s mostly harmless. Mostly."

As the chaos swirled around you, you realized joining the Pop Music Club was probably going to be as much about managing everyone’s energy as it was about making music.

But looking at their genuine excitement, you couldn’t help but feel you’d made the right choice. It was going to be loud, unpredictable, and—most importantly—a lot of fun.

Equestrian Club

When you chose the Equestrian Club, Riddle’s reaction was immediate and deeply Riddle. He straightened his posture, cleared his throat, and gave you a small but dignified nod, though his ears turned the faintest shade of pink.

“A wise decision,” he said primly, but his voice wavered just enough to give away his excitement. “The Equestrian Club values discipline and care, and I trust you will uphold those values. Welcome.” He paused, then added with uncharacteristic softness, “I’m glad you chose us.”

Sebek, on the other hand, reacted with his usual intensity, which was to say, very loudly.

“AS EXPECTED OF SOMEONE WITH DISCERNING TASTE!” Sebek bellowed, saluting for no discernible reason. “THE EQUESTRIAN CLUB IS A PLACE OF HONOR AND DILIGENCE. YOU HAVE MADE THE RIGHT CHOICE, AND I, SEBEK ZIGVOLT, SHALL PERSONALLY ENSURE YOU MEET OUR HIGH STANDARDS!”

“You’re going to scare the horses,” Silver muttered, patting a dozing mare who didn’t even flinch at Sebek’s volume. Clearly, she’d built up an immunity.

Silver turned to you with a sleepy but genuine smile. “Welcome. It’ll be nice having another person around who actually seems calm. I’ll show you the best places to ride, and we’ll make sure you’re comfortable with the horses.”

“And with the rules,” Riddle interjected, already retrieving a stack of laminated pages. “Equestrian care is not something to take lightly. You’ll need to memorize these guidelines to ensure both your safety and that of the horses.”

Sebek leaned over your shoulder to inspect the stack and immediately saluted again. “AN EXCELLENT INITIATIVE, HOUSEWARDEN ROSEHEARTS! I, TOO, WILL MEMORIZE THESE IN CASE THEY EVER REQUIRE REINFORCEMENT!”

“I think they’re fine,” Silver said. “We don’t need to make this harder than it needs to be.”

Riddle frowned. “Standards exist for a reason, Silver. Though I appreciate your enthusiasm, perhaps we can—Sebek, stop shouting—perhaps we can go over the basics first before overwhelming them.”

As Riddle and Sebek debated, Silver handed you a carrot to feed one of the horses. “Don’t worry,” he said, as the horse happily munched away. “It’s not as intense as it seems. Usually.”

You glanced at the stack of rules in Riddle’s hand and the fervent look in Sebek’s eyes. It was definitely going to be an adjustment. But seeing how genuinely happy they all were to have you—yes, even Sebek—you felt like this would be worth it.

Magift Club

When you announced your decision to join the Magift Club as their manager, the reaction was instantaneous and… surprisingly chaotic.

Ruggie let out a whoop, immediately dropping to the floor in a mock bow. "Ayo, everyone, bow to the boss! Finally, someone who can keep this circus in line!"

Leona, lounging on the sidelines, cracked open an eye and smirked. “’Bout time. Herbivores usually flake out, but I knew you were better than the rest.” He stretched lazily, like he’d personally orchestrated your decision. “Just keep the snacks coming, and we’ll get along fine.”

Epel looked between them and grinned, his enthusiasm much more grounded. “It’s great to have ya! With you around, maybe Leona will actually show up to warmups... or not just sleep through it.” He shot a pointed glance at their captain, who was, of course, ignoring him entirely.

“Eh,” Leona drawled, flicking his tail dismissively.

“You could work on that attitude,” you muttered, earning a low chuckle from him.

“See, I told you they’d fit right in!” Ruggie said, gesturing at you dramatically. “They’re already roasting him. This is gonna be great!”

Epel, suddenly inspired, added, “And they’ll keep Ruggie from stealing the fresh apple juice we get after games. That’s worth it alone.”

As the reality of your new role settled in, you felt a bit like a lion tamer walking into a den of mischievous cubs and one very lazy big cat. But their enthusiasm—expressed in their own peculiar ways—was endearing.

Ruggie threw an arm around your shoulder. “Alright, boss, first order of business: snacks! Let’s discuss our game day budget and whether I can convince you to sneak me a sandwich before practice.”

Leona snorted but didn’t argue, which you took as a sign of approval. Epel pumped his fist. “We’re gonna crush it this year!”

Maybe managing this bunch wouldn’t be so bad after all. If nothing else, it’d definitely be entertaining.

Mountain Lovers Club

When you joined Jade for a hike to "test the waters" of the Mountain Lovers Club, you had your doubts. You were prepared for a lot of things—maybe getting lost in the wilderness, maybe Jade pulling out his eerie cryptid knowledge, or maybe just a weirdly formal lecture about moss. What you weren’t prepared for was… actually enjoying yourself.

Jade led the way with an unhurried confidence, pointing out various wild plants, their uses, and fun facts about the environment. He wasn’t his usual enigmatic self, either. He seemed lighter, almost enthusiastic, as he described a tiny wildflower you would’ve missed entirely.

“This particular species only blooms during the autumn months,” he said, crouching to show you. “Quite fascinating how it adapts to the cooler temperatures, don’t you think?”

You nodded, trying not to stare too hard at how his face lit up when he spoke. Jade was… cute? When he wasn’t talking about mushrooms in a way that made you question your mortality, he was actually kind of charming.

By the time you reached a rocky outcrop with a gorgeous view of the campus, you realized you’d been smiling for most of the hike. Jade noticed too.

“It seems I’ve made a decent impression,” he said, turning toward you with a soft grin. “I’m pleased to see you enjoying yourself.”

“It’s… relaxing,” you admitted, surprising even yourself. “I didn’t think it’d be this fun.”

Jade tilted his head. “Does that mean you’d consider joining the Mountain Lovers Club?”

You hesitated for a moment, but as you looked at the breathtaking view and the rare, genuine smile on his face, the answer came easily. “Yeah. I’ll join.”

For a split second, Jade’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly schooled his expression into his usual composed smile. “Wonderful. I must say, I wasn’t expecting this outcome, but I’m glad. It’s not every day someone sees the beauty in what I love.”

There was an odd warmth in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. As he turned to lead the way back, he added, “Now that we’re a team, I look forward to our next adventure.”

Jade Leech was genuinely happy. And, you realized, so were you.

Gargoyle Research Society

When you told Malleus you were joining the Gargoyle Research Society, his reaction was almost imperceptible at first. A slight widening of his eyes, a pause as though he was waiting to see if you were serious, and then—pure, unfiltered delight.

"You have an interest in gargoyles?" he asked, his voice both surprised and reverent, as if you'd just confessed to enjoying a rare and ancient art form.

You nodded. "Yeah. I think they're fascinating. The designs, the history… They’re like stone guardians with stories etched into them."

For a moment, Malleus simply looked at you, his emerald eyes shimmering like the light of distant stars. Then, as if unable to contain his joy, he smiled—a soft, genuine expression that sent a wave of warmth through the chilly Ramshackle evening.

"This pleases me greatly," he said, his tone unusually light. “Not many share my appreciation for gargoyles. Often, I speak of them, and others… how do I put it? Pretend to listen.”

“Well, I’m definitely not pretending,” you said, grinning. “I’m in for real.”

Malleus clasped his hands together in what could only be described as regal excitement. "Then I must share something with you. Sometimes, I create gargoyles myself."

“You what?” you asked, laughing in delight.

“Yes,” he replied earnestly, his eyes alight. “Carving stone requires patience, but there is a certain satisfaction in breathing life into something lifeless. Well, not literal life, of course, but a soul of sorts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, the image of Malleus with a chisel and hammer popping into your head. “I never would have guessed. That’s… really cool.”

“I can show you some of my creations, if you’d like,” he offered, almost shyly.

“I’d love that,” you said, genuinely glad to have joined him. “I think I’m going to enjoy this club.”

The glow in his expression was impossible to miss. It wasn’t just that you had joined his club—it was that, for once, someone truly shared his passion. “And I am glad to have you,” he said softly.

In that moment, under the watchful eyes of the stone guardians scattered around campus, it felt like you had chosen exactly the right place.

Masterlist

tags: @techno-danger

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paullovescomics · 2 days ago

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The majority of the US is definitely not walkable. Cities in the northeast are probably most likely to have more walkable sections, because they were fairly developed before cars took over, but the rest of the country is purposefully built around the car. A lot of smaller towns that used to have walkable downtowns tore down most of it to make room for more "modern" uses back in the 1970s.

I grew up in a small city that had a population somewhere around 40,000 when I was in high school. It was one of the top 5, maybe top 3 biggest cities in the state. Most neighborhoods had no sidewalks. The street in front of our house doubled as a section of a major state highway, so there were lots of speeding cars on it. Even with that, as a kid I used to walk a few blocks down to the convenience store to buy comics, but there was no grocery store within walking distance. This was in the 1980s, before all the fear of predators, and my dad also worked in the neighborhood, so my parents weren't too freaked out about me doing this. I severely doubt that any parents living there now are letting their kids walk a mile to the Snak Pak.

Now I live in a city of about 300,000 people. Probably in the top six cities in the state for population. We have buses that run seven days a week, but because the city is so spread out and simply not planned for mass transit or walking, all of the bus routes have to start and end at a central hub. If you live in the Northeast of the city and want to take a bus to the Northwest, you get on the nearest bus (that can involve quite a walk), ride it to the depot downtown, then get on the bus that goes closest to your destination. A trip that is 15 minutes by car is 45 minutes to an hour by bus (and that's just the time on the bus, not walking to and from stops). Earlier this year, my car was in the shop for a while, and the nearest bus stop was two miles away, even though I am in a fairly densely populated area. I'm just a bit on the edge of the city, and there are wealthy neighborhoods around here that have no use for the bus, so the limited transit resources are more needed elsewhere. In many parts of the city, there are no sidewalks, or sidewalks only on one side of the street. The downtown is walkable, but that's only a few blocks, and it's restaurants and coffee shops, not daily needs kind of stuff. And my city is considered progressive!

A few years ago, I lived in a smaller city that borders this one. There was a Dollar Store that was within walking distance, but there were no sidewalks. There were, however, drainage ditches on both sides of the road, and people drove like maniacs, so you did not walk unless you had absolutely no other choice. This is not a uncommon situation.

And all the malls, then the big box stores, killed all the smaller shops that used to be a bit closer long ago. Even the convenience stores are less common, because they've been combined into bigger gas stations with fewer convenience items and more gas pumps, designed for people driving to work, not for people who live in the neighborhood.

A lot of homeowners do not want their neighborhoods to be walkable. Heaven forbid an "undesirable" person might walk down Willowbrook Lane and possibly threaten the resale value of somebody's house. Or a family walking down the street with arms full of groceries might suggest that they can't afford a car, and what would people think?! Public transit is for those overcrowded cities with their teeming poor and rampant crime, not for nice neighborhoods like ours with big lawns that prove we are living right.

Okay, that last paragraph got preachy, but hopefully the point still came across. Americans are rarely able to choose walking as a viable option.

“America IS walkable, you’re all just lazy” my childhood home was an hour from the nearest hospital (by car)

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awrkive · 1 day ago

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tlp jk is def the type to absolutely sob when he sees oc walk down the aisle/when he’s trying to propose to her and it maybe just me but I feel like after that one year anniversary he’s like I’m wifing this girl DOWNN cause I feel like he lich has the ring and everyth ready to go he’s waiting he’s prepped 😭

here it is!!! #thee proposal drabble this is literally the cutest thing ever i wish love was real 😖🥹 hope u enj!!!!!!!!!!

summary: in which jungkook proposes and it doesn't start off well

w/c: 3.7k

warning/s: tlp couple is extremely in love that is a warning. they're also cry babies. listen to something by the beatles for the major feels 😔

“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, matching your pace. “Are we really fighting right now?”

“No.” Is your stern response, continuing your quick steps without even bothering to look back at him.

“I guess we are fighting right now.” Jungkook mumbles to himself, taking two big strides so he can finally catch up with you.

You don’t pay him any attention when he slides his arm around your waist while the other holds the bag of large popcorn you bought a while ago, leaning down to kiss the side of your head. Jungkook doesn’t even care about the people passing by around the cinema; they have lives to care about on their own – he can kiss his girlfriend wherever and whenever he wants.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers in your hair, enough for only you to hear.

There’s a crease on your forehead that hasn’t ceased ever since you left the restaurant you had your dinner at. But after a few beats, you let out a sigh.

“I just really wanted to see the movie in IMAX.” you lament, and Jungkook feels bad. He really does.

“I know, baby, I really am sorry,” he apologizes once again. “We can see it tomorro—” but he realizes you both have a full-time shift, so he opts for, “–next week?”

“Jungkook, the screening ends in the next two days.” you say, tone bordering on annoyed now. You reel it back in, gently saying, “I just– I told you to hurry up earlier, but you kept on changing your hair even though– you know what, forget about it. Which cinema were we in, again?”

Jungkook’s nerves begin to kick in, because you look like you’re genuinely upset now. He can tell it by the tone of your voice, the disappointment and the simmering irritation of having to deal with the situation. You don’t get angry often – no scratch that, you don’t get angry at all. However, it does come in withdrawal-like gestures and behavior – like now.

And again, Jungkook really does feel bad for having to do what he did earlier. You weren’t able to purchase tickets online so you had to make do with buying on the actual booth – and because Jungkook took way too long in the comfort room of the restaurant fixing his hair, you arrived at the cinema way too late and the tickets for the last IMAX screening of the night ran out. It left you with no choice but to go with the regular one instead, and needless to say, you’re not at all that happy about that.

Well, shit. Jungkook thinks. This date is not going well at all. The waitress at the restaurant you ate at a while ago openly flirted with him on your table and he was too stunned to do something that you had to tell her off by yourself. That had obviously taken a hit on your mood, and the cinema thing just kind of maybe amplified it and Jungkook thinks he’s beginning to get fucked.

“I’ll make up it up to you, baby–”

“The tickets, Jungkook.”

Jungkook purses his lips into a thin line and gives them to you.

You walk alongside each other quietly, but Jungkook doesn’t let go of your waist while you head towards the dark and quiet hallway, leading to the seats. You don’t pry his hand off so maybe – maybe – that’s a good thing.

But god, this night isn’t going well like he wanted it to be. Suddenly, he’s nervous again. More nervous that he was in the shower awhile ago when you were still prepping for the date back at home. He’s anxious about fucking the whole thing up, and sure, he could trust his track record of never fucking up when it comes to doing big things in his life, but this is different. This will be different. And he’s just so fucking scared that he checks on his watch again.

8:22pm.

Eight minutes before the movie starts in your cinema. And eight minutes more before the–

“Jungkook,” You call him, and he’s just in the middle of pushing the seat down for you when you do so. He looks at you. Confused, you ask, “Do you have somewhere to go?”

“Huh?”

“You keep on looking at your watch. You have been since we were at the restaurant.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he’s thankful there’s barely any lights in the hall.

“I– no. No.” He shakes his head, placing down the bag of popcorn in the middle and takes your hand instead, interlocking your fingers. “I’m sorry, did I keep doing that?” He asks consciously.

He’s really fucking this up, and you’re noticing it.

“Yes, it’s bothering me a little,” You shuffle in your seat a little, facing Jungkook. Softly, you ask, “Do you wanna go home? We can ditch the movie. I’m sorry for being a dickhead the whole night. It’s not an excuse but I really wanted to watch this movie in IMAX… but it’s fine. I’m not mad at you. I’m just in a… mood. And I know I’m taking it out on you. I’m sorry. I’m being so unappreciative over here – I know you were supposed to work on your research–”

“Hey,” Jungkook stops you before you can even finish that. “No, baby. This is our date. I don’t wanna go home yet and I’m genuinely really sorry for missing the IMAX screening.” He’d add he didn’t mean to take long in the comfort room earlier… but that would be a lie. He intended to do that so you can both arrive here on time like planned.

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Still… I’m sorry for being a little bitch.”

“Not true. You’re an angel.” Jungkook says and brings your interlocked hands up to kiss your knuckles. “Love you.”

You frown. “Love you too.”

That earns you a hearty chuckle from him. “I love you more.”

“Not that again.” You sigh, turning sideways to look ahead on the screen but not breaking away from his hold.

Jungkook contains his smile as his gaze falls to the big screen as well, nerves crumbling down a little at the exchange. You’re the only person who can make him nervous but the only one who can take it away at the same time.

“Huh,” you utter suddenly in the middle of some trailer playing. “It’s so weird there’s only a few people here.”

At that, Jungkook’s heart rate picks up a bit. “Y-yeah? Well, it’s late at night.”

“Fair.”

“And this movie’s not really new, right? Just an anniversary screening thing.” Jungkook continues to add, as if determined to justify your claim.

You nod. “I guess you’re right.”

“Yep.”

His phone lights up and you’re busy sipping on your drink so Jungkook takes that as an opportunity to check the messages he received.

tae [8:28pm]: starting in 2

tae [8:28pm]: good luck buddy

Jungkook swipes his tongue over his lips – a nervous habit – quickly turning it off and pocketing the device. He places his arm on the arm rest and taps his fingers on the plastic surface anxiously.

It feels like there’s a ticking clock above his head when the trailer finally ends, because he knows the thing should start rolling.

And Jungkook swears he’s prepared for this for so many weeks. Months for the matter. It’s now May and the ring has been bought since February. What was once tucked away from the depths of his closet is now snugged in the pockets of his trouser, deep enough that you couldn’t pinpoint the bulging outline of the box.

Jungkook originally planned for you both to be out of the country when he does it. But things got really hectic at the hospital and while he personally could’ve still taken a leave, you couldn’t. Jungkook brought up the idea of vacationing a little, “Just for a week,”, he said, but then you sadly told him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to and he understood that greatly. He’s in the same line of work, after all.

So, with what seemed to be the nth deliberation with Doyeon, Taehyung, and Nayeon, he ultimately decided on this set-up. You know; trick you into going to the mall with him so you can pass by the cinema and he successfully executes the proposal seamlessly. But obviously, it didn’t go as smoothly as that.

After your dinner, you impulsively decided that you wanted to watch a movie in IMAX, but it starts at exactly as Jungkook’s proposal, and so he had to compromise a little bit; the admittedly poor (but effective) solution coming in the form of intentionally staying a little longer in the comfort room of the restaurant just so you two would be lat.

And Jungkook swears it’s for a good reason! Because everything’s prepped and ready to roll and he can’t have himself waste another perfect opportunity. He remembers almost popping the question three months ago, two months ago, month ago, few weeks ago and heck, even last night – but he’d always get cold feet and think the time wasn’t right.

Right now, though, is different.

And he wants it so badly to be different.

Good thing you settled things quickly. Now that his being late is past you, he can be a little more confident in what he’s about to do.

The next trailer shows up and Jungkook sits upright, knowing what’s coming. He has it memorized, down to each frame. He was the one who edited it, after all, a product of his humble multimedia skills, that is. Jungkook could’ve gone to a professional but he really wanted to do it himself, scared they wouldn’t be able to tell you what he wanted to. And so he did. The gang also told him that it would be better if he did it himself.

And now he’s showing it to you – you, who’s completely clueless beside him.

It starts as a bit of a misdirect. There’s an intro from a famous movie studio, and a scene from a real movie – and so of course you don’t suspect anything, as Jungkook could say from his peripheral view.

Suddenly, the screen goes black. It causes a pregnant pause, stretched to exactly five seconds (again, Jungkook edited that), and then, a familiar clip suddenly plays.

It’s a video of you taken from Jungkook’s camcorder back in med school. First year, around the second semester. You were at Moon’s Printing Shop and you were looking down at your notes when Jungkook, behind the camera, called your name.

You looked up, hair messy from an all-nighter study but Jungkook’s certain the Jungkook behind the scene was still thinking you were the prettiest girl he’s ever seen just like he’s thinking now.

“Who would you wanna be if you were given the chance to be somebody else in your next life?”

You grimace. “Hopefully, still me.”

“So boring,” Jungkook exaggerated, his laughter reverberating in the hall of the theater. “Be serious.”

You looked flustered in the video. “I’m serious. I don’t wanna be somebody else.”

In his seat, Jungkook feels the real you sitting beside him tugging at your enclosed hands together, so he looks at you.

“Jungkook, what is this?” You say, evidently unaware of what’s currently happening, your brows furrowed in that cute confusion.

“Just something I’ve been working on for the past three months.” he smiles, bringing your hands together to his lips again. He just couldn’t stop kissing and touching you even if he tries.

You stare at him with your mouth agape, but you don’t say anything else, your gaze falling back to the screen once again.

“Okay, since you don’t wanna play this game I wanna be Darth Vader.” Jungkook said in the video.

“What? The evil guy from Star Wars?” You frowned. “That’s not… hmm… okay. I guess I wanna be… Spongebob, then.”

“Oh. Wow. Interesting. Alright, Darth Vader’s out. I wanna be Patrick instead.”

“I like that. So we’ll still be bestfriends, right?”

“Yeah. And I still get to stress you out even in the next life.”

That made you laugh, the warm burst of laughter filling the hall which makes Jungkook’s lips curl up as he watches the screen. He can never get tired of it; your smile, your laugh, your face as it lights up. There’s something so incredibly angelic about you he sometimes thinks you’re not human at all. Or maybe just part-human… nonetheless, he feels grateful. For literally everything.

Something in the way she moves…

The video transitions to another reel of you taken by Jungkook while The Beatles’ Something plays in the background.

"Oh my god..." Jungkook hears you gasp beside him, but he doesn't allow himself to break just yet. Instead, he tightens his grip on your hand, feeling your response as you hold on just as firmly.

The screen continues to show candid moments of you from med school. All recorded and taken by Jungkook; the trips you took during that time, that rave party you went to where you got extremely drunk – and when that showed up, you giggled beside him and said, “I told you to delete that.”, which he just laughed at.

Later on, the clips got more recent, you in your lilac dress and Jungkook’s white tux… it was a video of you dancing in Nayeon’s wedding.

“W-wha–… I didn’t – who took that?” You whisper, sounding in awe.

“Nayeon was apparently recording from the stage at that time.” Jungkook says, looking at you and smiling when he sees that you have your eyes glued to the screen.

“This is so…” you trail off, but you don’t really say anything in continuation.

Recent videos of you play, capturing moments from the two years you’ve been together. There’s that clip in Vienna, a few in Florence, Paris, Melbourne... It’s surreal to think that he captured those memories, never imagining they’d be used for something like this.

Something in the way she knows

And all I have to do is think of her

Something in the things she shows me

I don't want to leave her now

You know I believe and how

The song fades to an end and so did the compilation of your videos. The screen shows Jungkook this time instead. He leaned towards the camera, checked the optics, and then smiled a little. From the background, you know it was taken by the wall of his room, near the window because you can see the Sanrio plushie you put on the table beside there. It’s a little out of frame but you can still recognize it.

Then, he spoke.

“Uhm, hi,” He started, and you hold your breath, feeling like you’re on the edge of your seat but not in that anxious way. “I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I’m thinking of doing this video… for my proposal – and ah, my proposal – wait, I really should’ve written a script for this but I wanted this to be natural as much as possible and I’m going off-track so we’ll move on to what I really wanna say,”

You can’t help but laugh at that, and you hear Jungkook joining in with you.

“__, you’re the love of my life. You’re my lover, but you’re my best friend most of all. I look back on the times we’ve spent together – a decade. There was no time in those years that I didn’t thank my lucky stars for knowing and meeting you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I really hope you know how much I love you because no matter how hard I try to put it into action and words, no amount of it would tell you how I truly feel.” A pause. Then he took out something from his pocket. Raising his hand, a red velvet box appeared in the frame. He was about to open it when suddenly, your voice is heard behind the camera.

“Jungkook?”

Jungkook quickly pocketed the box, and the camera shook a little, the angle now distorted, probably due to his panic upon hearing your voice.

“Yes, baby?” The audio played.

“You were doing something?”

“Nah. Just trying out my new camera.” Jungkook said.

“Oh. Lemme see.”

The camera got picked up, and Jungkook switched the camera to you.

In your seat, you nibble on your bottom lip upon seeing your own face this time, a poor attempt to stop your jaw from breaking apart because you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling watching the whole thing.

“Pretty girl.” You hear Jungkook say behind the recorder. His hand came up to caress your face in the video, thumb rubbing over your cheek. “I love you.”

You looked confused at first but then you told him, anyway, “I love you too.”

You leaned down, and the video gets switched out to another one of Jungkook on a different day.

“Sorry the video got interrupted by my gorgeous girlfriend.”

You both laugh at that, and as if on cue, your eyes meet – silently acknowledging that you’re thinking the same thing. In that shared glance, it's clear you both understand how things escalated in that moment, that night – how that kiss turned into something more.

“I just wanted to say that, uh, I love her. No, you, I’m talking to you–” He sighed in the clip, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway. I love you. I love you so much, baby. More than anything else in the world. I feel like I don’t say it enough although Taehyung teases me about convulsing if I can’t say it to you for no longer than five minutes – he’s probably right but that’s not the point. What I wanna say is – again – is that, I love you, __. And I want to spend the rest of my lifetime with you. I wanna grow old with you. Spend every day and every night with you. I want us to wake up together every morning, make our breakfast together, go to work together, do laundry together, our taxes – man, I don’t know. Anything. I just want to do anything and everything with you. Maybe adopt a dog in the near future, if you want to, that is. You’re probably gonna be watching this in the theater by this moment – god I hope I don’t fuck the whole thing up, the gang is gonna be so pissed – but I’ll drop the question for you and I know we already talked about it many times before and two months ago you said you were ready if I was also ready. I couldn’t tell you I’ve been ready since the first week we started dating. But I hope… what you felt two months ago is still what you feel right now…”

Then, the big screen fades to black, and suddenly, a few lights in the hall flicker on, illuminating Jungkook—now on his knees. In his hand is a red velvet box, now open, revealing a stunning ring that’s so beautiful it leaves your jaw slack.

He clears his throat. “__, you’re my best friend. Have been and always will be. You’re my home, my partner. I will love you for as long as you let me and–” Jungkook doesn’t mean it but there’s suddenly a lump in his throat that forms along the way and he has to choke it back, making his voice crack a little bit as he looks into your eyes. “– and I really want to live all my remaining years with you and be yours forever.” He bites his lip, looks up at you with those doe eyes you love so much. Then, the question comes, “Can I be your husband?”

“Jungkook…” You look down at him, your mouth opening and closing, lost for words. You’ve passed the point of holding back tears, and when your eyes meet his—so full of sincerity and revere—you completely break. “Y-yes. Yes! One hundred percent yes,” you manage to say through your sobs, nodding fervently as your vision blurs from the tears streaming down your face.

As soon as you say that, all the lights in the room turn on and there’s a holler from the direction of the projection room that you can’t help but look at.

“Congrats!”

You gasp as you see Doyeon and Nayeon. They’re both waving at you with huge grins on their faces. Genuinely surprised and confused at the same time, you start to look around, and suddenly, you realize that everybody is literally… your family. Taehyung, your dad, your mom, your sister and Seokjin all occupy the front rows, and in front of them are Jungkook’s own family as well. From afar, you see Jungkook’s father coming up to give your dad a hug which he reciprocates as they laugh together.

Your eyes are drawn back to Jungkook.

“Jungkook… they’re all here,” you say, struggling to hold back the onslaught of tears. They won’t stop.

And at this point, Jungkook can’t help it. Not anymore. He sees you crying and he can’t help but do it as well. He sniffs, taking your hand and kissing the back of your palm.

“Yes, baby. Everybody is here.”

“Baby, why are you crying?” You ask him despite yourself.

Jungkook chuckles in between his tears, swiping a hand on his eyes. “I’m just so happy. You make me so happy. Thank you. Thank you for saying yes.”

That makes you cry even more, earning another laugh from Jungkook but it’s filled with endearment. Slowly, he takes your hand and you watch teary-eyed as he finally inserts the ring around your ring finger.

The diamond-encrusted band, with a larger diamond glimmering in the center, fits perfectly around your finger. You stare at it in awe, admiring how gorgeous it looks—trying to recall a time when Jungkook measured your finger to make it fit so flawlessly. But you can't remember, and you don't mind at all, instead looking up at him as he stands to his feet.

"I love you, Jungkook. I really do," you say with all the sincerity in your heart, hoping he knows as much.

"I can't wait to marry you," he replies, his voice full of emotion before he pulls you into his arms and leans down to kiss you gently on the lips. It’s soft and it’s sweet just like the love he’s given you all these years.

A cheer erupts around you, and normally, you'd feel shy about kissing in front of your family. But this time, you don’t feel embarrassed at all.

It’s just you and Jungkook. Bound for a lifetime of unadulterated love.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #fic: tlp #tlp drabbles #p; drabbles

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jo-harrington · 1 day ago

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Blueberry Muffin (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Eddie notices you're good at sharing your food. A little too good.

Pairings/Relationships: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Established relationship, Food/Eating, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Brief mention of financial concerns, Discussion of trauma from previous relationships

Note: This is something entirely personal to me, it was something my ex did one-upon-a-time ago. But, like with everything else, Eddie Munson is a powerful tool to help you get over some of your issues. This fic might not be the best, but it helped me work through some old issues. And I'm pretty proud of that.

Shoutout to @undead-supernova who inspired me to write this while we were chatting about her excellent fic We Are Going To Be Friends, and @dr-aculaaa who is one of my lifetime mutual trauma ride-or-dies and told me my ex was actually trash (and they were trash).

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

If there was one thing that was the key to yours and Eddie's relationship, it was food.

Before there even had been a relationship, food had been one of the keystones of your friendship. You met at a friend's thanksgiving potluck, you always planned your outings around where you'd eat and the snacks you’d get, and during the group road trip up to Milwaukee for Mac and Cheese Fest, he'd finally gotten the courage to ask you out.

Food was life. You both agreed.

You were always good about sharing your food.

You, as in the two of you, sure. But specifically you.

It wasn't until the two of you were together and spent more time alone with each other that Eddie realized just how good you were at sharing.

Actually, good wasn't the right word.

Meticulous was more accurate.

If you took a bite of his burger when you went out for dinner, he had to have a bite of your pasta.

If you bought a pint of ice cream to share during movie night, you matched each bite spoon for spoon. However, if after a certain point of sharing he insisted that you could have the rest of the pint because it was your favorite flavor, the pint would inevitably make it back into the freezer without another spoonful taken.

On and on it went.

He tried to ignore it, but once he noticed it, it was hard not to.

At first, he thought that it was some relic of a less-than well-off childhood. Like Eddie, you'd grown up with a single parent and were occasionally foisted off on well-intentioned relatives to watch you while your mom worked. Thankfully, food was never scarce for either of you, but the fact that you'd been forced to grow up quicker than the others made you aware of generic-branded groceries and your mothers stretching their dollars and the pursing of lips when the bills came for special occasion meals out.

After a while, though, that reasoning disappeared. Yes, there were still habits that you formed from your mother's frugality but never to the point of anxiety.

This was something else.

And it all came to a head the day you brought home a bag of leftovers from work.

"Tom always orders too much when the execs visit the warehouse," you explained excitedly as you proudly showed off a plastic container of some gourmet salad and a few wax paper-wrapped sandwiches.

Then came the pastries.

A cherry danish you grabbed for Eddie specifically, and a pistachio-cream filled croissant that Eddie had heard you gush about a million times over. A few tiny cream puffs that both of you eagerly popped into your mouths.

And one blueberry muffin.

"Oh!" You faltered at the sight of it and then looked back into the obviously empty paper bag. "I thought there had been two."

"That's ok," Eddie shrugged. "We can just split it."

"No!" you snapped at him, your eyes wide. "You can have it."

"Sweetheart, I know you love muffins as much as I do," Eddie scoffed. "We'll just split it. No big deal. It's a pretty big muffin."

He watched as you worried at your lower lip for a long, drawn out moment before you nodded.

He kissed the side of your head and turned to grab plates and drinks. He carried as much as he could out to the living room so you could eat dinner in front of the TV. When he returned to your side to grab the food and start plating up your plunder, he stopped in his tracks at what he found.

Splitting a muffin was a no-brainer, typically. Or so Eddie thought. Just peel the paper lining and split that sucker in half. But there you stood, knife held in a shaky hand, shifting back and forth a few millimeters every so often, trying to find the exact equator of the confection before you so it could be cut in equal halves.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asked as gently as he could, but you still flinched, and when you looked up at him, your eyes looked glassy.

"Just cutting the muffin in half," you tried to laugh and play it off, but Eddie could see through the facade.

"It's just a muffin," he tried to offer, as though reminding you that it was, indeed, just a muffin would break you from this fit.

"It is," you looked down again, almost in shame. "Isn't it?"

He let you have a second, let you put the knife down and take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. When you nodded and held yourself a little more confidently, Eddie closed the distance and split the muffin in half by hand, right down the middle along the score line you had started.

And he pretended that he didn't notice the way you'd held your breath while he did it.

"Let's have dinner then," he suggested.

---

"You gonna tell me what all that was about?" Eddie asked once dinner was almost over, his mouth full of cherry danish, crumbs spewing from his lips as he spoke.

You ignored him for a second, picked at your own laminated pastry, until he continued.

"You know I always thought your mom really hammered the sharing is caring thing with you. But you went full King Solomon on that muffin and...I know that look in your eyes because I've seen it in the mirror a ton of times. That was fear. That was pain. So, are we gonna talk about it?"

You sighed and considered telling him no, you wouldn't be telling him jack shit, but...how many times had you pried into things that you really had no place asking about and he still told you anyway. That's how communication worked; that's how a relationship worked.

And that was how you got into this mess wasn't it?

"You remember my shitty ex?" you began tentatively, with a question.

"Shitty ex Number 1," Eddie scoffed. "Or shitty ex Number 2?"

"Number two."

"Should've known," he said under his breath but nodded for you to continue. "Alright, so what else did they do?"

Because the list had been...extensive already, you were loath to admit.

But you were with Eddie now, and things were infinitely better. You could work through these hurdles with him.

"It all started when we still worked at the mall together," you began. "Before we even started dating, actually. We'd meet on breaks and shoot the shit and one day, the little bakery only had one blueberry muffin."

You glared at the split muffin sitting on a plate on the coffee table, as though it was at fault, and not your ex.

"We decided to split it. Nothing wrong with that. We only had a fifteen, it was just a snack. But when they went to split the muffin...they took the muffin top, and left me with the stump."

"The...stump?" Eddie asked slowly, unable to comprehend.

"Yeah," you leaned forward and tapped on the base of the muffin that had previously been encased in paper. "The stump."

"That's...only assholes split a muffin that way." He paused and considered it. "But it's Shitty Ex Number Two. So I shouldn't expect anything less."

"I didn't think anything of it then," you continued. "Or the next hundred times we split a blueberry muffin on breaks, even when we started dating. They would always get the delicious, crispy, sugary muffin top, and I would always get the stump. Half-clinging to the wrapper, maybe a blueberry burned on the bottom. Never an equal half, always less-than!

"Until one day, there was this especially delicious looking muffin. It wasn't even at the mall, we were on a real date! At a real, nice bakery. With blueberry muffins, because that was our thing, and I made the mistake of asking if I could have the muffin top. Just once. And they looked at me like...like I just asked them to sacrifice their mother or something."

You felt your lip tremble, and the familiar sting of tears in your eyes.

That sense of loathing that you always felt when you thought of that moment, or really any time you got a blueberry muffin.

You took a breath and said, "they just told me that if I really loved them, I would let them have the damn muffin top. Because it was their favorite."

"That's bullshit!" Eddie got to his feet, arms thrown up in the air. "Sorry sweetheart, that's bullshit and, I'm sorry but, you deserved so much better. You deserve to have half a muffin. Half of the whole muffin, not just the stump. Fuck, you deserve the whole damn muffin yourself! It’s just a muffin!"

"I know!" You shouted back at him, causing him to stop his ranting and raving. "Don't you think I know that? It’s just a muffin and I shouldn’t have had to make myself accept less than what I deserved but it was the first in a long line of things where they made me feel like I wasn’t worth half. I wasn’t worth anything. And if I tried to prove that I was, to them and to myself, I would look crazy. Because it’s just a muffin.

“That's why I started...that's why I started taking what I deserved. I started taking half, instead of giving everything Eddie. If you get a bite, I get a bite. With everything. Because I deserve it!"

You thought of the way you had to meticulously tried to split the blueberry muffin earlier.

"Maybe...maybe I take it a little too far sometimes," you muttered, letting the tears finally fall. "Because I don't want to be selfish like they were, and take more from you than you deserve."

"Baby," Eddie dropped back onto the couch and corralled you into his embrace, pecking kisses to the side of your head. "Who fucking cares? Don't worry about me. Shit, I'll give you anything you want. I'll take anything you leave behind. I'll give you my whole cheeseburger at Benny's, if only you asked for it. And if you left me one singular pickle chip, I'd take it without complaint."

"I would never ask you," you laughed wetly.

“No, but you could ask, that’s the point. And I would give it to you.”

"I know I could. And I know you would...I just...I can't break myself from the habit. Not yet, at least."

"I get it," Eddie said into your hair as he continued dropping kisses. "The shitty exes leave their scars and you do your best to keep from opening the wounds up again. I get it."

You knew. You both had your fair share of scars.

---

It took a few minutes, as you basked in one another's comforting presence, before you inevitably shared the damn muffin you brought home. Eddie insisted on letting you take an extra bit off his muffin top, even when you rolled your eyes and told him to stop.

Neither of you brought it up again for a few days, but you both were a little more conscientious when you shared food.

You made nachos for his Friday night DnD session with the guys and he left you the core nacho that held everything together; it was extra gooey with cheese, and loaded with jalapeños. You made sure to take an extra big bite of his pint of rocky road when he offered, even if he didn't want a single bite of your rum raisin. And when it was his turn to take bites of your food, you didn't pay attention to how much or how little he took.

It still felt a little wrong, but it was insanely healing. You didn't need to worry about keeping things fair and equal with Eddie; your relationship was already fair and you were equals.

And of course, Eddie kept your revelation at the forefront of his mind to hold you accountable to your own bullshit. He noticed when you fell into old habits before you could and even came up with a form of punishment if you subconsciously made sure to take the same number of bites off a shared plate as he did:

He would give you a vegetable off his plate.

"I'm not a fan of broccoli anyway," he grinned cheekily, waving his fork with the aforementioned green in front of your face one night at dinner.

"You're an idiot," you shook your head, but took the bite regardless.

It was slow and steady, but you were getting over the hurdle together.

Then one day, the unexpected happened.

You were at work, doing your little mindless computer work as you did, when your coworker called your name from the front of the office.

"Is it your birthday or something?" Jill laughed as she hauled something through the sea of cubicles.

"No, did someone get me flowers or something?" you asked and stood from your desk to meet her halfway.

"You can't eat flowers," she said as she turned the corner, holding a massive basket.

Full of blueberry muffins.

You didn't need to read the card tied to the cellophane-wrapped basket full of baked goods to know who it was from, but you did anyway to satisfy your coworkers' curiosity.

And they didn't quite understand it, but it made your heart melt.

I didn't ask if they sold a basket of only the tops, because I didn't want them to think either of us were sociopaths. It’s just a blueberry muffin. But you're worth every muffin in this damn basket, sweetheart. Never forget that. Love, Eddie

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic

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ronwestbreeze · 2 days ago

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NONBELIEVER | viktor

summary: you would think two zaunites would come together and change the world. but perhaps fate had other plans for the two...

word count: 5.7k

warning: no use of y/n, angst and ambiguous endings???

author's note: so act 3 really messed me up lol but enjoy some angsty viktor because why not? the gif is from this set!!

ACT I: MOB

Like Viktor, you lived and breathed the Undercity just not in the same way.

Your face used to be what artists would paint, even for a revolutionary.

But now it was stained with blood of your own. Beaten out of you mercilessly until cool shackles were clamped onto your hands and steel bars shielded you from the world. You have been in prison for some time now. Months, maybe a year? These days you’ve lost count. The only way you could tell how much time had passed was the growth of your hair. That was the price of being a revolutionary. That was the price of taking risks no one else would. Now you tasted blood and smelled old pipes. That was life in Stillwater Hold.

How you got here was the same story as any other inmate. You had planned to destroy a part of Piltover to make a point. To show that the people of the Undercity would not rest or become the ants under their boots. Most of your comrades had escaped from Enforcers, others were killed in the explosion, and then there was you. It was a sacrifice so that your comrades could have time to escape. And you’ve long accepted your fate.

That is until a certain professor decided to mess with fate.

After being forced out of your cell to meet this Professor Heimer—something, you weren’t really sure about. All you knew was that these Enforcers really liked to manhandle you especially roughly and took pleasure in seeing the black eye and blood on your teeth. That you were used to.

“Oh dear, could we please get her a towel at least?” The professor chided with a shake of his head. “Goodness, at least have her be presentable!”

Eventually, you got the rag, albeit it was thrown at you. After spitting on one of the Enforcer’s shoes, you wiped the blood and dirt from your face as the professor began speaking.

“Well, you certainly live up to your name. The Rebel Moon, is it? You may or may not have heard of me, but I am Professor Cecil. B. Heimerdinger and I are here as a Piltover Academy representative!”

A beat of silence went by. You realized then he was waiting for a response. You rolled your shoulder back and rubbed your aching jaw. “What are you meeting with me for?”

Professor Heimerdinger cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well….it seems you’ve left yourself a bit of a…reputation. I specifically admire your work on the bridge a year ago—marvelous work!” Sarcasm. You didn’t quite appreciate the condescension either. Seeing the unimpressed expression on your face, he quickly continued, “What I mean to get at is that we found some of your…erm, blueprints and I was surprised to see that most of them had been handwritten yourself, is that right?”

One of the Enforcers placed down a file filled with your old blueprints. They were mostly a copy of the Piltover Bridge, others were for weapons that your previous comrades built off of your drawings. Then there were the private drawings. The ones filled with naïve dreams of rebuilding the Undercity, changing it to a place where it was safe for everyone.

You snatched the files and hid those drawings in the file earning a quick yank from one of the Enforcers holding your chain. But after a subtle look from the professor, the chain loosened, and you frowned, anger boiling in your blood. “Where did you get this?”

Heimerdinger raised his hands, “I come in good faith, child, that I can promise.”

“I don’t particularly care about your promises—”

“Oh yes, very true,” The professor tapped the table thoughtfully. “But I do think you will like the proposition I have for you.”

Apparently, you had the potential talent of being an architect. One of the best in your generation it seemed—which somehow, he got from just looking at your old blueprints. And now he was convinced that you should join his Academy and that this was the perfect opportunity for you to change your life. To start over. To—

“Become one of you people?” You frowned and pushed the file away from you. “I’ll take my chances in here.”

Heimerdinger, of course, was quite the persistent man. “Imagine what you could do with your talents, Miss Moon. You’re still so young, you don’t have to waste your life behind bars. You can start anew!”

“I’m not wasting away in here.” You say simply, your shoulders are heavy and your face still sore. Carefully and slowly, you leaned back in the chair you were sitting in, trying not to put too much stress on your recently dislocated arm. “That’s the thing with you Upsiders. You all don’t know anything about what it is to fight. And what it is to sacrifice just so your people can see the light of day. I don’t need your handouts. I’m doing just fine here. It’s where I belong.”

At that, he frowned. “I’m afraid I disagree with you, Miss Moon.” He pushed the file back toward you. “You have the chance to create something beautiful for your city, for your people. You have the chance to help them live. You have the chance to be something greater.”

Greater. You weren’t great. It was either great or nothing.

Somehow, Heimerdinger managed to strike a deal and get you out of Stillwater despite your rejection. For some reason, he was so determined to make you into something that you weren’t. And you were determined to fail. You were determined to prove him wrong. Even if he tried to impress you with the new uniform, the scenery, and the architect of Piltover—just to inspire you—you would not break.

If anything, seeing all this luxury only made you angrier. Even if they preached about you now being free with new chances, there were still shackles clamped on your wrists, imprinting themselves like a tattoo. To remind you that even if you’ve gotten this chance, there is always a chance for you to go back. And they wouldn’t hesitate to send you back once you mess up. Which was what you were counting on.

But it seemed that Heimerdinger was a lot more astute than you expected. The professor had you in his study during the day to work and look over some blueprints for new housing at the Academy. It left you with very little time to plan something reckless that would have you sent back to prison. Which, you guessed, was what Heimerdinger wanted. So, you entertained him and worked on the stupid blueprints, redesigning everything as fast as you could so you could get done faster and have more time on your hands.

Of course, that plan went quickly out the window when there came more demands for blueprints. Leaving you swapped and buried deep in work you didn’t even want. And yet, admittingly, it was a nice distraction. There was a small part of you—the child you—that enjoyed some of this. You would never admit that to Heimerdinger and yet you couldn’t put the pencil down. Eventually, you began receiving so many different requests for different projects that Heimerdinger got you a lab over your own, so all your stuff didn’t get overcrowded in his study.

Requests were filled with more designs or redesign for specific buildings they were hoping to update to catch up to the times—and then there were a few that had you designing weapons. The more you worked, the more of a reputation you began to build in the Academy. The new Undercity kid. Rebel Moon. Hephaestus. It was all ridiculous.

That’s when another fellow Undercity student finally found you.

“I fear those papers would catch on fire the more you glare at it.”

It was an accented voice that stirred you out of your spinning thoughts. You definitely had been glaring at the blueprints of a recent request for an apartment just a few walks from campus. You briefly glanced over your shoulder toward the man—he seemed a little bit older than you, walked with a cane, intrigued amber eyes, and a small, amused smile tugging at his lips.

“If you’re here for a request then just leave it over there with the rest.” You murmured before turning your attention back to the blueprints after pointing toward a desk in the corner stacked with many more requests.

There was a short breath before he spoke, “Ah, no, I actually already sent a request just a few weeks ago…I’m impressed by your work, the professor has a knack for spotting talent.”

You didn’t respond as you kept staring at the blueprints, twirling the pen in your hand, feeling the weight of the shackle around your wrist.

You heard him clear his throat, “So, you are from the Undercity?”

“What’s it to you?” You grunt before outlining.

“Well, truthfully, I didn’t expect the Academy to accept another one.”

At that, you swirl around in your seat and sized the man up carefully. He was pale, slightly hunched to hide his true height, neatly combed dark hair, and he had very fine cheekbones. “Another one? What, too many Zaunites in your perfect little school?”

“I would’ve thought they had enough once I joined.” He gave a knowing smile that made you pause and narrow your eyes.

“…You’re…from the Undercity?”

He moved toward you; the click of his cane echoed in the quiet room and offered his hand to you. “I’m Viktor. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you, Miss Moon.”

You stared at his hand for a moment, tilting your head, “Great things? That doesn’t sound right.”

Viktor chuckled, still holding his hand out. “Eh, some people might have a few opinions about you. Unfortunately, it made me all the keener to meet you in person.”

“Am I what you expected then?” You asked as you eventually shook his hand, your shackles clinking a bit.

With a small smile, he squeezed your hand, “No. Not at all.”

Your brow twitched as you studied him. He was delicate-looking. But his hand was a bit larger yet slender. They were calloused, just like yours yet warm compared to your coldness. It was then you realized that your hand was still in his and you pulled it away and turned back to your work.

“My name’s not ‘Miss Moon’ by the way.” You grunt as you refocus.

There was another soft chuckle and a click of his cane before he was gone. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder and stare at the doorway, a little bit too intrigued.

After that, you didn’t stop seeing Viktor. At least twice every week you’d get a request for him to polish some designs for his work. Sometimes he’d send his assistant, Sky, and sometimes he’d come in person himself. At first, you weren’t entirely sure about him. But the fact that he was from the Undercity along with his assistant was slightly comforting. At least you weren’t alone here. Still, it was odd. Foreign.

“Have you ever gone out to see the finished product of your work?” Viktor asked you one day, deciding to linger even after delivering yet another request for something to do with a Hexcore.

“No.”

“Why?”

You frown and glance toward him. He was looking over some of your finished blueprints with a strange look accompanied by a smile. “I’m just not interested.”

Viktor blinked and met your eyes with a small frown. You didn’t say much more—truthfully there wasn’t much more to be said about it.

“Well, it’s one of the most beautiful designs I’ve ever seen. If that’s any consolation.”

You felt something in your chest at his words. Perhaps some of you did want to see the finished products of your design. And yet you were always rooted in this lab. In the dark under one lamp, barely seen by other students. Hephaestus.

Viktor tapped your workbench thoughtfully and hummed, “I’ll leave you to it, Miss Moon.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s not my name.”

He laughed and left your lab.

On another day he came into your lab in quite a hurry. He left his requests as usual before rushing out. Only he left a ring behind. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glanced at the ring on the floor and toward your workbench before sighing. After grabbing the ring, you pushed up from your stool and left your lab. This was the first time you’ve walked around campus or went anywhere besides your lab or Heimerdinger’s study.

You asked around for Viktor’s lab until you stopped on a bridge, spotting something quite familiar.

It was the newly remodeled dorms. They glistened like gold in the sun. Build just like how you imagined them in your head. Just like how you outlined it on paper. Only in your dreams could you imagine what they would look like. But seeing it….It was real. And it was beautiful. And it came from your mind.

“Ah, Miss Moon, odd seeing you here!” Viktor approached you quite smugly from across the bridge. He glanced toward the dorms and gave a grin, “They just got done with it last week. What do you think, hmm?”

You narrow your eyes, “You scheming little eel.”

Viktor blinked almost too innocently, “I haven’t a clue what you mean—ah, I was looking for that.”

He gestured toward the ring in your hand. You gave it back to him while your eyes couldn’t help but draw back to the dorms. There was a tightness in your chest and a small ache behind your eyes.

“Glorious, isn’t it?” Viktor asked, his voice gentle as always.

You snapped out of your reserved awe and cleared your throat. “They did okay, I guess.”

With that, you darted back to your lab, the dorms imprinting themselves in your mind.

It became a routine at some point. Viktor began visiting your lab a little more often. At first, you didn’t notice this. But some days he’d come back to your lab a second time that day just to linger and see what else you were working on. At first, you thought you found it annoying. But as the days carried on and turned into weeks, you began to begrudgingly look forward to his visits.

“At least make yourself useful. Look over my work and see if there’s anything I missed.” You tried grunting when he leaned a little closer than usual to look at the blueprint you were working on.

“Hmm, I can try.” Viktor hummed as he flicked his eyes over the finished prints. “But they’re all probably perfect as usual.”

“Don’t you have some work to get to?”

“Not particularly, no.”

For some reason, he started leaving shit in your lab. Which would lead to you having to go and find him and return his stuff. Stuff like a screwdriver or some paperwork. Today it was a journal as you trudged through the campus and finally found his lab.

“Vik, I understand you’re a busy man, but you can’t keep leaving your shit in my area.” You huffed, throwing his journal onto his workbench, breaking him from his focus.

“Oh, Miss Moon,” He looked genuinely surprised to see you. “I wasn’t expecting you…”

“Yeah, right, so you didn’t leave this in my lab on purpose? You just happen to leave it there for me to find and bring to you?” You hummed, tilting your head as you got a good look at what he’s been working on—something a lot longer than what you’ve been doing. The Hexcore was what he called it. You didn’t understand it yourself—or cared much to learn about it. But you did notice some of your designs were used for his work.

“Mmm, you make me sound like a calculating stalker.” Viktor hummed as he got to his feet, joining your side. So, close his arm brushed against yours.

“Are you?” You quipped dryly while studying the Hexcore.

His slender fingers gently brush along your elbow. “I wouldn’t call myself a stalker, no. Are you interested?”

You glanced at him and realized he was talking about the Hexcore. “No. Just give me the why.”

Viktor hummed once more and leaned against the table, his fingers still brushing gently along your elbow. “For our home.” At that, you felt a tightness within your chest, your features falling slightly. Viktor, who had become very astute with your expression, gently grabbed your arm and squeezed it. “What’s with that face?”

You remember your life before the Academy. You remember your determination to prove Heimerdinger wrong. “Sometimes…I feel as if I’ve gotten too comfortable…too used to all of this….”

In the end, it was always your people above everything else. A revolutionary never dies, that was the simple truth.

“I think I’ve gotten too comfortable too.” Viktor frowned softly, tilting his head a bit to get a better look at your eyes when you averted your gaze. “And it’s all your fault, Miss Moon.”

You rolled your eyes only for him to lean forward and capture your lips with his. A lick of fire had been rekindled within you, breathing life into your soul, into your body. When he brought his hand to the back of your neck, when he practically cradled your face and brought you closer so he could deepen the kiss, when he touched you so gently as he always did, it was as if for a moment that heavy weight on your shoulders had been lifted. Leaving you weightless for even just a moment. That bit of relief was a breath of fresh oxygen in your lungs.

The heat from his lips moved from your mouth and down to your jaw and to the crook of your neck. Your back was pressed against the workbench as he practically clung and draped himself over you. And you let him. Even when he desperately wanted to feel you and kiss you all over, he was gentle. He always was.

The days didn’t change much except for whenever he was free, he’d head straight for your lab. Whether on a break or in a hurry, he’d always stop by and pepper your face with quiet kisses and touches before leaving for his lab. It was routine. You were getting comfortable. Comfortable in his warmth. In his gentle hold.

“Just stay,” Viktor murmured against your jaw as you examined some of his work with the Hexcore. “Your presence is better than that tea Jayce always makes.”

“I can’t, Heimerdinger wants to meet with me soon, and I got a bunch more new requests on my desk.” You hummed while looking through Viktor’s partner, Jayce’s, notes. “I think that Jayce guy requested some designs for a hammer of some kind—that’s been taking up most of my time as of lately so I can’t necessarily—”

“I know, I know,” Viktor rested his chin on your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment as he slumped against you.

His health had gotten worse, which was something you and everyone else noticed. It did worry you how much he was working lately without much sleep, but you quickly learned how much of a stubborn man he was—especially when it came to his work.

“What do you think Heimerdinger wants to meet with you about?” He voiced your constant question out loud.

“Don’t know.” You murmured, trying not to think too much about it—or his health right now. “Won’t know until I get there. Probably wants to send me back to Stillwater.”

At that, he pinched your waist, “Don’t joke like that.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“Losing you is not funny to me.”

You placed Jayce’s scribbles down and wrapped your arms carefully around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder with a soft hum. He instantly relaxed in into your hold, but of course, you could tell his mind was still half Hexcore and half you at the moment. “Be sure to get some rest, okay?”

As usual, he gave a half-assed noise of slight agreement.

ACT II: REBEL MOON

It wasn’t long before Jayce Talis became the Man of Progress and Viktor became buried in his work. And then you were promoted. The lead architect of a very important project for Piltover. No longer the Rebel Moon but Hephaestus, Piltover’s future.

But.

Everyone saw you as the kid saved from the Undercity and made a new. Everyone saw you as the future of their city. You were part of the progress of tomorrow. And you kept chasing Viktor, trying to keep up with his mind but he—he had become so work driven—so ambitious on the Hexcore dream that he had forgotten everything else.

You were angry. Angry at Piltover. Angry at what you’ve become. Angry at Viktor. This wasn’t the life you had chosen. All of this was envisioned for you. This wasn’t for you. You had nearly gotten so swept up in all the glamour and success that you had nearly forgotten—

No. You would never forget your people.

So, when your lab went up in smoke when you destroyed the project that you had been assigned to as lead architect, when the Enforcers tackled you to the ground and arrested you on the spot, when one of them grinned as if they’d been waiting—waiting for you to finally mess up, you knew right then that you would never be what Heimerdinger, what Viktor, or what anyone saw for you. You were a Zaunite after all. And a revolutionary. A rebel. Always.

It wasn’t long before you were placed back in Stillwater Hold. In the same cell. With the same shackles. You didn’t even get to tell Viktor goodbye. Would he have even realized it? Or perhaps, it was better off to leave him to his Hexcore dream. Perhaps, that was best. Yes.

But your mind was no longer settled with just staying in a cell and living out your sentence. One thing Piltover did give back to you was your fighting spirit. Rekindled your fire. And breathed life into your dead soul. And so, you weren’t quiet in the cell. You made noise. Cried out for war until the rest of the prisoners joined you. It wasn’t long before a riot broke out. The prisoners overpowered the guards, and you led them to escape.

The streets of Zaun were screaming for the Rebel Moon once more. Even now more so than ever when rumors began flying around about a rocket hitting Piltover, resulting in a few councilmembers’ deaths. Your thoughts wandered to Viktor, you wondered if he was okay, if he hadn’t killed himself working so hard. But your focus went back to your people. To the escaped prisoners as you all went into hiding underground. They followed you. Their chosen leader. You had no wish to be a leader, but you did want to be free and help your people.

ACT III: NONBELIEVER

Hiding in the Underground for months began to wear everyone down, even you—their supposed fearless leader. The sickness in the Undercity knew no bounds. Many of your people were getting sicker and dying as the days passed. You did your very best trying to supply and care for them—but you could only do so much.

That’s when you started hearing strange rumors about some healer in the Undercity. A herald or whatever that meant. At first, you didn’t think much of these rumors while being so focused on caring for your people.

Soon, sightings of strange people began appearing. Shouting about the Herald and how he could save their people. You were…wary of this. It almost seemed too good to be true. And you hadn’t seen these strange people yourself, so you thought it was all fake, stories made up to give the people false hope.

You came back from the small local market with more food than you could scrape up. Somehow, you’d have to figure out how to make it last throughout the month. But there were so many people. So many people are coming for refuge, and so many people in need of help.

“Are you the Rebel Moon?”

At the voice, you stop and glance over your shoulder, only to find no one there. Had you imagined it? Were you too wary after months of people coming to you and seeking refuge? The name Rebel Moon became a beacon of hope as much as it was for the name Jinx or that Herald.

Deciding it was just exhaustion messing with your head, you turn to continue forward, only to gasp and stop when you nearly ran into someone standing directly in front of you.

And they had appeared out of nowhere. It was a man that you didn’t know. His face void of any emotion except for a simple smile on his face, strange crystal-like fixtures embedded into his skin, while wearing white fabric far too clean to have come from the Undercity.

“You are Miss Moon, yes?” The man asked.

You stiffened. No one had called you that in a while. No one except… “Whose asking?”

The smile remained on the man’s face, “The Herald has been searching for you, Miss Moon. And he would like to speak with you.”

You gripped the basket of fruit and near stale bread in your hand and gritted your teeth, “I’m not interested, thanks.”

Just as you nudged past the man to continue down the crowded street, he spoke again. Only this time it wasn’t his voice coming from his mouth.

“You’re a hard woman to track, Miss Moon.”

It was like the air had been stolen from you as you whirled around to stare wide-eyed at the man with Viktor’s voice. The basket fell from your grasp, but the man was quick to catch it—somehow so fast—as he handed it back to you. “V-Vik?”

He nodded and slowly blinked, “I feared I wouldn’t see you again. You disappeared so suddenly, almost as if you weren’t there to begin with.” The man’s hand came up to gently brush his fingers along your jaw sending a sharp shiver down your spine. “Almost as if you never existed.”

You flinched almost and stepped back. Thoughts swirled within your mind as you tried to reel from the man speaking in Viktor’s voice. “What…what is this? How are you doing this?”

“I don’t want you to be frightened of me.” He instead said, taking another step forward but didn’t reach out to touch you again. “I only want to help you. I can save those people from that sickness.” You opened your mouth, ready to ask how he knew but stopped yourself which allowed him to continue, his voice gentle. “Only if you let me.”

“You’re the Herald.” It was mostly confirmation for yourself as you let the words slip out.

The man smiled softly, “I wish to see you again, Miss Moon. There is so much I wish to show you. But I will come to you first.”

Before you could ask what, he meant by that, the man’s voice returned, and Viktor’s voice was gone. “The Herald will come tomorrow, Miss Moon.”

And with that, watched this vessel of a man walk away. Leaving you feeling as if you were in some type of nightmare. No, alternate reality. It must’ve been some hallucination. Yes. That had to be it.

Only when the next day came, one of the children at your camp came running to you about the Herald being here, did you know right then and there that this was not a hallucination.

You watched as he entered your camp with those lifeless people that followed him. Viktor had changed. Covered in indigo metallic skin, his hair slightly longer, his posture straighter yet still relying on a cane—or staff in this case.

Viktor’s eyes found yours almost instantly as if they were magnetically drawn to you. It looked like him.

“Miss Moon.” He hummed as he drew closer, staring at you with the same gentleness despite the distance in his expression.

It sounded like him.

You led him to the tent he would be staying in, watching the lifeless people tend to your people with baskets of fresh fruit and food. Viktor called your name in his accented voice, drawing your attention back to him, finding him already staring at you with an intense expression.

Even in this form, Viktor’s body couldn’t help but be pulled toward you. He let the staff rest while his hands slowly came up to trace and feel this human skin. Distantly he was all too aware of it. How he still reacted to you. With the remnants of Sky lingering in his mind, his thoughts had always wandered back to you. The image of your divine being. If he could still dream, it would’ve only been you he would’ve seen.

There was a strong pull that led him to you. Perhaps sensations of desperation. Even as he leaned his forehead against yours, feeling the little warmth coming from your body against his metallic yet pallid skin—he still wished to mold himself to you. To never stop touching you. To never let you slip from his fingers again

And then there was that look on your face. The furrow in your brow running heavy with exhaustion—you hadn’t slept. At that realization, his hand gently squeezed the side of your neck absently.

“You’re so quiet.” Viktor hummed finally, quietly for only you and him to hear in the stillness of the tent. His thumb traced your cheekbone. “You’re always keeping your thoughts from me.”

You tilted your head, trying to stir yourself out from the haze of his touch. “Are those…those people….are they the ones you ‘saved’?”

“Yet, so honest.” There was a hint of a smile on his face as he selfishly pulled your hand against his chest, keeping it there, selfishly. “Yes. They’re healed. No more…senseless pain. I can offer your people this peace. And you can come to stay at our new home. I think…you’d like it. You need peace.” He rubbed his thumb under your eye, making your shoulders grow heavier. “And rest.”

You couldn’t come up with a response. His lips linger on your mouth, and your jaw, and your neck. His fingers thread through your hair which had grown longer since the last time he had seen you. Gentle traces, cool breath fanning along your skin, his arms wrapping around your weathered and scarred form. Even your fingers traced his new skin. Refamiliarizing yourself with him.

But.

It wasn’t him.

Even when his lips pressed gently yet hastily against yours, his body clinging to your human flesh, it still felt like a stranger. Familiar yet unfamiliar.

Confliction warred at your mind as you watched him move through the camp, your people looking at him as if he were a savior. As if the gods had sent him when it was only magic and remnants of the Hexcore embedded into his body. Your eyes couldn’t stop falling onto the lifeless people he ‘saved’. The ones that followed him without much thought. Would your people look like this? Void of themselves? No breath. No heartbeat?

But then you wanted Viktor. You wanted to go to this peaceful land he had created for himself and these people. You wanted to be with him. To be wrapped in his gentle embrace once more. To hear his voice whisper gently into your ear, easing the exhaustion from your muscles.

But.

Viktor reached out toward a boy. Sparks danced along his fingertips. The boy stared in awe. It was instant, your reaction.

Your hand grasped his wrist, stopping him. Viktor’s gaze met yours in an instant. You didn’t know what your face looked like, but it made Viktor falter.

Viktor saw your face and absolute dread filled him. A sense of it at least. It made his body go slack in your grasp—surrendering to you instantly. The glassiness of your gaze and that expression. He had never seen such a thing on your face. Fear. Desperation. Hurt. Sorrow. Grief.

He’d lost you. No. No. He’d…He’d get you back. He couldn’t let you go again…he couldn’t let…

What was this strange feeling in his chest?

You pulled him away from the boy and Viktor allowed himself to follow you. Gazes unwavering. But you forced the words out of your mouth. “This isn’t what I want for these people. This…this isn’t saving them…”

He couldn’t let you slip from his fingers.

You couldn’t let him take your people’s humanity.

He needed to keep you. To keep his humanity.

“Revolutions never rest.” Was your whisper as you released his wrist.

He called your name, but you forced yourself to turn your back on him.

“Show him out.” You murmur to one of the stronger men in your camp. You couldn’t turn back. You couldn’t look him in his eyes. If you did….

Then this conflict would disappear in an instant.

Viktor and his followers left without much problem. Maybe that hurts too.

The yearning for Viktor never left you and yet it wasn’t your job to bring him back. This Hexcore…all of it was beyond you. Maybe all of it wasn’t meant to be for you. Maybe…Maybe he wasn’t meant to be yours….

Days later you had heard the Herald had changed.

Days later the Herald was gone from this world.

Days later your exhaustion and grief wore on your shoulders.

Days later you’re trudging through the Undercity, more baskets filled with fruit in your arms.

Days later, you find a blue shard on the ground, somewhere near where Viktor’s utopia had been.

You picked it up from the ground, a remnant of what remained of Viktor and his work. You saw the manmade tents that were now abandoned, the builds similar to your past designs of what you wanted for the Undercity.

Silent tears fell from your cheeks as you gripped the shard. And you clutched the shard so tight in your hand that you could’ve sworn you felt a soft hum from it. Or maybe you were imagining things. Maybe you were too exhausted. Maybe you really did need rest.

And then.

You heard that accented voice.

“Miss Moon.”

Your breath hitched as the shard suddenly began to glow.

And Viktor’s voice came from it.

“May I show you something?”

And then. There was a bright blue flash.

#arcane #viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane x reader

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acourtofchaos · 13 hours ago

Text

I SWEAR THE DAY I DON'T HAVE HEART PALPITATIONS AND WITNESS MY SOUL ASCENDING OVER YOUR WORK IS THE DAY I HAVE PASSED FROM THIS WORLD.

HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR MY MANY SILLY RAMBLINGS UNDER THE CUT

FIRSTLY THIS,

So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before you—silent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floor—you almost laughed.

IS GORGEOUS. I LOVE THE EXPECTING OF SOMETHING DARK AND IT BEING SO LIGHT INSTEAD. AND LIKE IT BEING A PERFECT MIRROR OF MATTHEO AND HOW THE EXPECTATION OF THIS NIGHT BETWEEN THEM COULD BE. JUST HONESTLY BEAUTIFUL.

SECONDLY, YOU KNOW I ALWAYS ADORE YOUR CHARACTERISATION OF MATTHEO AND THIS IS NO DIFFERENT.

He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw it—the hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lower—and it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.

AND

He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.

I LOVE THAT HE'S NERVOUS, THAT DESPITE HIM BEING ESSENTIALLY IN CONTROL OF THIS SITUATION GIVEN THAT HE HAS THE EXPERIENCE, HE'S NOT ACTING CONFIDENT OR SMUG. HE'S UNSURE AND I LOVE THE SENSE OF VULNERABILITY.

"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush this—rush you."

I JUST WANT TO HOLD HIS PRETTY FACE. I LOVE PATIENT MATTHEO.

His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"

"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."

He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck."You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."

But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.

I AM OBSESSED OVER THE WAR WITHIN MATTHEO, THE WAY HIS BODY AND HIS ACTIONS DISREGARD HIS WORDS AND HIS FEAR. I LOVE HER CONFIDENCE IN HER DECISION AND HOW MUCH IT EFFECTS HIM TO HEAR IT.. AAAAAAA SLDKFJDJS GOD I WANT TO MARRY YOU'RE WRITING (and you)

—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.

Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.

THE FUCKING SWITCH HERE OMG

You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked.

His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.

FERAL MATTHEO. FERAL MATTHEO. FERAL MATTHEO. I'M SCREAMING. HOWLING. CLAWING AT THE WALLS. I'D LET THIS MAN TEAR ME TO PIECES WITHOUT HESITATION.

"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your folds—and you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "…not the consequences, not the risk...you just want me…”

I FEEL CALLED OUT.

"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."

"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."

DAMN FUCKING RIGHT I HAVE YOU SEXY BITCH. GODDDD I KNOW I'VE ALREADY SAID IT BUT YOU JUST WRITE MATTHEO SO PERFECTLY. TO HAVE HIM BE SO FUCKING COCKY DURING SUCH AN OVERWHELMING MOMENT. HE'S A LITTLE SHIT AND I LOVE HIM FOR IT.

His face was a storm—flushed, eyes half-shut—but at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.

THIS!!!!!!! THE IMAGERY!!!!! JUST ALL OF HIS DEFENCES BLOWN AWAY, I LOVE IT SO MUCH

His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“

His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning.

I'M SOBBING, THE INTENSITY BETWEEN THEM. I CANT BREATHE.

"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."

JUST PUNCH ME IN THE HEART WHY DONT YOU.

His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.

You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you both—the distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.

"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”

He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't.

EM WHAT THE HELL, I DIDNT EXPECT TO BE AN EMOTIONAL WRECK OVER A VIRGINITY LOSS FIC AT 11AM. GOD THE SOFTNESS IS MAKING ME ACHE.

It was overwhelming—the fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

OKAY I'M GOING TO STOP THERE OTHERWISE I'M JUST GOING TO BE PUTTING THE WHOLE FIC IN THIS REBLOG WITH MY SILLY LITTLE ANNOTATIONS. I'M OBSESSED WITH THIS, I LOVE THAT DURING IT HAPPENING THERE'S BARELY A SENTENCE WITHOUT THEM NEEDING TO GASP FOR BREATH, THE INTENSITY OF IT IS JUST PORTRAYED SO WELL. YOU REALLY ARE A MASTER OF YOUR CRAFT AND I'LL BE WORSHIPPING THIS FIC IN MY HEAD FOR WEEKS.

LOVE IT AND LOVE YOU 🖤

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 4th. mattheo - virginity loss / corruption kink.

PART TWO | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.

summary: pls read part one first for a lil buildup. also. im laughing at myself bc there was a perfectly good bed…right there…

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, virginity loss, PIV, so much dirty talk, so much patience from mattheo, (more of a realistic virginity loss bc it’s not always easy), praise!!!!, slight degradation, fingering, multiorgasm, handjob, best friends lil sister trope.

Mattheo Riddle was so accustomed to this. The pulse of adrenaline in the dead of night, the quiet hum of anticipation stretching every second longer than it needed to be. You weren't naive to that, not to him, nor the danger he carried so effortlessly in his stride. He wore it like a second skin.

But you—you were not accustomed to it. Not to any of this.

Too perfect. Too on the nose, like the castle itself had been watching you both for months and had decided this was the moment it would indulge you.

"You're late." Mattheo's voice cut through the quiet.

His back was to you, suit jacket discarded on an old oak desk against the wall, dark curls falling just above his collar as he stood by the window, eyes fixed on the lake. The moonlight made the ripples dance, just like the tension in the room.

You took a step toward him, silent.

You gave him a small, nervous smile, hoping it would ease the weight of his stare. "I didn't realize you were the type to keep track of time."

He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.

"You've a lot to learn, little girl," he teased, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it did nothing to mask the conflict in his eyes. It was meant to disarm you, but it only made the air heavier. His jaw tightened. "You're sure about this?"

"Quite sure," you breathed, stepping closer, close enough to admire the sharp line of his jaw, the soft stubble. "You're the one who's hesitating."

You let out a small huff, your hand moving up to find his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Mattheo Riddle was nervous.

"You've been making me wait for months," you whispered. "I don't think a little rushing would hurt."

He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on your hand as it trailed over his chest, lower, teasing. Every touch was a flame against his skin, every breath between you a match struck in the dark. He wanted you, more than anything, but the weight of it—the wrongness, the danger—clawed at his conscience.

His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"

"You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."

But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.

"I'll regret nothing." Your fingers slipped lower, grazing his crotch, moving with nothing but instinct and need. Biting your lip, you felt the outline of him, hard and aching under your palm, and squeezed—he grunted, snapping his hips, and you throbbed. "Shit, Mattheo..."

"You are—fuck..." Mattheo's voice was a ragged breath, the words drawn out like he'd been holding them back for months. "...such a little tease."

You let go as quickly as you'd squeezed, and he growled against your skin, fingers tightening in your hair. Your hands found his face, pulling him in, crushing your lips to his. You moved with intent, pushing him back until his thighs hit the edge of the desk, and he groaned again—this low, guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.

You smirked into the kiss, tasting his frustration, savouring the way his defences cracked open. When you pulled back, his chest was heaving, lips swollen, eyes dark with want.

"I learned from the best," you whispered, teasing as your fingers slid down, finding the buckle of his belt. He watched you, every breath uneven, as you worked at the latch, pulling the leather free. "You've had months of fun tormenting me," you continued, moving to the button, the zipper. "Kissing me, only to say it was a mistake. Grabbing my ass every chance you could. Talking sweet when my brother wasn't looking..." your smirk deepened, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "...it's my turn now."

His pants sagged around his hips as you undid them and he cursed under his breath—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.

Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.

"You think you're in control here?" His fingers slid up your hips, dragging your dress along with them, baring your skin to the cool air. "You think you have any goddamn idea what you're doing?"

You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked. His thumbs hooked around your panties and in one swift motion, they were gone—torn down your thighs before he urged you back onto the desk, parting your legs with his torso.

You were breathless, chest heaving, pulse thrumming wildly. His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.

You stared up at him, mind empty, until—

Smack.

His palm came down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of sensation straight to your cunt. Your skin stung from the contact, but that wasn't the part that made you gasp. It was the heat, the way it surged through your veins, flooding your abdomen in a slow, aching pulse. You liked that.

"I asked you a question." His lips brushed against your ear, breath warm as he leaned in. "Two, actually."

You couldn't think, mind swimming—the press of his body, the rough timber of his voice, the weight of his hands as his fingers teased, climbing higher, brushing closer to the ache between your thighs. You sucked in a breath, trying to recall what he'd asked, trying to focus anything but the fire he was lighting in you—

But then, his fingers slipped further, closer, just barely brushing your slit, and your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing that touch.

"No—I don’t—“ the shame in the answer barely mattered. His fingers were so close, so close. "Gods—I just know I want you—"

Your nails dug into his back and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, wetting his fingers in your arousal before gliding back up to your clit and tracing over it.

"Oh—Gods—" you whinged, moaning into his shoulder.

Mattheo’s hands were experienced—that much was certain. Those fingers knew exactly how to move, precisely how to trace light, delicate circles over your clit that made you twitch, squirm— nerves stripped as you took in the new sensation. It wracked every inch of you, and you could feel him savouring your helplessness, drawing out every ounce of tension that had been building between you for months.

“You’re soaked.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice. “...filthy little thing for me, aren't you?"

"Gods, Mattheo, yes—" your eyes rolled, thighs twitching against his hand. "I am—ohh—"

"Yeah?" His tongue traced a slow, wet path up the side of your neck, teeth dragging over your pulse. "You like this?"

His words were enough to make you want to scream, but no sound formed—just a low, broken moan that spilled from your throat, raw and shameless.

"Answer me," he murmured. "You ever orgasm from this before? Hm?"

"No—" your voice choked, trembling as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at him, something like shame pooling in your stomach. "Oh, fuck—"

"No, what?" His fingers pressed harder, circles growing faster, more insistent, and his voice—Christ, his voice— "I asked you two questions, little slut. Keep up. You wanted this."

"Yes—mmf—I like it—" you whined, the words a desperate spill from your lips, too flustered to form anything coherent. "And no—Gods—you're the first to...to touch me like this..."

He figured as much but the admission tore through him nonetheless, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a groan—not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, a bruise, a reminder. His hand dipped lower, a finger pushing inside you without warning, pressing deep into your slick heat, and you cried out, your body tightening, pulsing around him, vision swimming.

"And this?" His voice was a smirk against your skin. "You let anyone else inside you like this?"

You knew he already knew the answer. You both did. He was reveling in it—the way he had you, trembling, helpless. You'd never heard him like this, never heard him so crass, so unfiltered, and the way he spoke made your whole body flush with heat.

"No." The word was a strangled moan, barely a breath. "Gods—Mattheo—you already knew that—"

He crooked his finger inside you, and your back arched, the stretch unfamiliar yet mindnumbing, his thumb working your clit. You felt teeth nipping at your earlobe, a hum into your eardrum—his body thrumming with the satisfaction of finally, finally letting himself have you where he wanted.

"Perhaps I did." He added another finger, curling them inside you, his teeth scraping along your neck in a smile. The groan that slipped from your lips was desperate, pained in its pleasure, your body reacting to every new inch of him. "Fucking hell—you can barely take two..."

Your head shook, words failing you. "Gods—Mattheo—I...fuck..."

A low grunt rumbled from his chest, his fingers moving quicker, slick with the evidence of your desire. "Feels good?"

"Yes—" you moaned, breath hitching, vision blurring as he pumped his fingers in and out, building something inside you that you couldn't name, something new, something overwhelming. "I feel—oh, gods—something...happening—"

"You feel something?" His voice was mocking, drenched in that innocent, teasing tone that had you falling apart. "Yeah? What's happening, princess?"

You couldn't find breath, couldn't form the words to answer him. The pressure inside you was mounting, intensity unbearable, your body tense and straining toward an edge. You clung to him, breathless, desperate for more, desperate for something, anything—

"I don't—" your voice broke as his fingers curled deeper, wetness flooding between your thighs, his thumb relentless. "Pressure—fuck—so much—"

He nodded. "Yeah? Pressure in that pretty stomach? Feels fucking good, doesn't it?"

"Fuck—yes, yes," your lids fluttered. "S’good—"

"You're so close." He watched you, drunk on your downfall, and smirked as you neared the edge. "You're going to cum for me."

Sanity shattered in your throat—words trapped, swallowed by the tension, leaving only the soft, unbridled whimpers you once might've once found embarrassing. But there was no shame now, not when you were this close, the pressure coiling tighter in your core, ready to burst.

"Ohh—" you managed, lungs sputtering, head tipping back. The sound of your voice, the way you moaned, was foreign, unfamiliar to your own ears. "Gods—oh fuck-"

"I know," he cooed, sweet like sugar. "I know."

You were a mess. Too close, too overwhelmed—everything was him. His scent, the heat of his skin, the feel of his fingers working that magic that had your body convulsing before you could even cry out, before you could process the way your vision blurred with the force of it. The climax hit like a wave crashing over you, and your moans were swallowed by his kiss, his lips on yours the second your body tightened, shaking against his hand.

He was relentless, rough and insistent, kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole—drowning out the world as your body pulsed around his fingers. You’d never felt such an intense sensation, lava coursing, replacing the blood in your veins. His breath stuttered against your mouth, a low groan vibrating through him, the sound making your spine tingle.

"F-fuck," he muttered, pulling his fingers from you, glistening and wet. "Messy little thing."

The words sent a shiver through you, not just from their meaning but from the way he said them, like something perverse, intimate. Your chest tightened with the warmth of them.

"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."

"Shut up," you whispered, stomach flipping at the way he said your name, the way it dripped from his mouth like honey. "Have not."

"I've known for a while, you know," he mused, his voice so low, so quiet. "Don't think I haven't seen it—the way you look at me." He kissed your skin again, working his way up, each press of his lips something sacred, moving closer to your mouth. "The way you can't get enough of me."

You could kill him for it, for the way his words sunk into your bones, making all the feelings you've buried rise to the surface, pulling you under. He just had to go there—had to milk every inch of your composure out of you, because it's not enough for him to have you disarmed physically—sexually—he needed to have you disarmed emotionally, too.

Perhaps the worst part of it all is how right he was. Arrogant bastard.

"Stop talking," your hand drifted down, grazing the bulge in his pants, your fingers slipping under the waistband, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It was reckless. You've never done this before, but God, you wanted to. "Stop talking and teach me."

The room tilted—the world off its axis. His breath caught, choked in his lungs as he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to his—his kiss wild, his tongue insistent, running along your gums and wrestling with yours for control.

"Fuck," he groaned into your mouth as you tugged his boxers down, freeing him, your hand wrapping around him. Hot. Hard. "Wrap your fingers around it, princess. Gentle strokes. Just like that."

Your heart stumbled at the sound of his voice, thick, raw and open. You tightened your grip, stroking him slowly, experimentally, and he hissed through his teeth, a groan vibrating through his chest.

"You're so big," you murmured, forehead against his, the words spilling out without thought. "So thick..."

"Fucking minx," he moaned. "Stroking me and telling me how big I am—fuck—you're not as innocent as everyone thinks."

"Only you know this," you whispered, your hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, pulse soaring as he groaned. "Does it feel good, Matty?"

"Fuck—Christ—" his breath was jagged, words ripped from his throat like they barely wanted to come out, hips jerking mindlessly. "Tighter, mm—little tighter—"

Your cunt throbbed—each whispered invocation of a god not his own, of something he didn't believe in, forced a shudder through you. That's how you knew. Knew how lost he was. He’d no mind left at all if he was muttering muggle gods.

"Like that?" Your fingers squeezed around him, your gaze burning into his as you looked up through fluttering lashes.

"Yeah—shit—just like that," he gritted out, grip on your hips bruising, but you welcomed it. Needed it. "Fast learner, aren't you?"

"You're a good teacher," you whimpered, a sound that was barely yours as his fingers slipped between your thighs, finding your slit, teasing you open again. "Oh—"

"You've always been a little teacher's pet," he groaned, thrusting into your hand as he slipped a finger inside you. The stretch made you wince, pleasure and pain blurring into something that sent sparks behind your eyes. He watched you, gaze molten. "Fuck—it’s gonna hurt, you know that, right?"

The ache spread through you, but you didn't flinch. "I know," you whispered as his thumb found your clit, making you gasp. "I trust you."

"I know you do." His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“

His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning. Your hand tightened on his length, the heat between you flaring, and you moaned against his mouth, shaking with the need for more.

"I want you," you breathed, each syllable shivering on your lips as you clenched around his fingers. "I've wanted you for months—"

Months? No, it had been years. Years of wanting, needing, watching from afar, heart in your throat. Years of avoiding anyone else because no one was him. You knew he’d felt the same and it killed him. It wasn't logical, wasn't supposed to be like this—not with you, not now, not his best friend's little sister, not him whispering sweet, dangerous things while knuckle-deep inside your virgin cunt.

It was as if you both shook those thoughts from your minds at once. You’ll think about the implications later.

"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."

Hate him? The very idea was laughable, absurd. You could never hate him. Not even in those moments you tried, not even when he deserved it.

"I could never hate you," you murmured, drawing him closer, lips trembling against his. "Just—please—"

Something shifted in his eyes, and he knew. Knew what you needed. What you both needed. You were vulnerable, trembling, but you trusted him—completely. You’d been in his life for so long. You knew he’d never hurt you. He could see it your eyes, the trust, the in the way your body bent to his touch.

"Alright," he said softly, a hand running up your body to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Alright."

His fingers slid out of you, leaving you bare and breathless, and you swallowed. This was really about to happen.

"Lay back," his voice cut through your haze. "Legs to your chest."

The command wrapped around you like a vice, tightening the anticipation, and you fell back on your elbows, staring up at him as you raised your legs. Vulnerability crept in, making your thighs tense, but Mattheo was there, spreading you open with firm hands, pressing himself against your slick. His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.

"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”

He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't. He guided himself against you, the press of him at your entrance an unbearable ache. He was hot, hard, huge—and despite the wetness slicking down your thighs, your body resisted, too tight, too unsure of this.

You whimpered, instinctively trying to pull away, but he stayed, pressing kisses to your hair, your temple, whispering something that sounded like comfort but burned like fire. It hurt more than you expected, more than any of the fantasies you had dared to entertain.

Doubt curled through your chest, what if you couldn't take him? What if—

"M-Mattheo..." his name broke in your throat as you clutched his arm, nails digging into his skin. He tried to push in again, but your body resisted. "It—you—you can't fit..."

"Shh," his lips ghosted over yours, his hand slipping through your hair, trying again, moving slow, controlled. "You're just—so goddamn tight—"

The way he said it sent a spark through your veins. It was filthy, shameless, and it lit you up from the inside, despite the pain. No one had ever spoken to you like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tears pricking as he tried to work you open.

And then—he was in.

"I-it hurts," you hissed—pain lighting up your spine as he worked his cockhead inside you, pushing against the resistance of your walls. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, each inch a battle. The pressure was unbearable, the sting so sharp it was paralyzing. "Oh, fuck, Mattheo—"

He groaned, a sound from deep within his chest, his head bowing, sweat creeping over his brow.

"Shhh, I know—I know..." he murmured through shredded cords, fighting to maintain control as his hips paused, barely halfway in, just enough to make you feel like you might break. "S'okay...you're doing so good..."

"Why—mmff—gods..." you could barely speak, the words tangled in your throat. "Why do you have to be so big—"

A strangled laugh escaped him, though his eyes stayed shut tight, his jaw clenched—cock twitching inside you.

"I don't—fuck—know." His fingers brushed your lips, covering your mouth gently. "Don't go talking like that—not right now—"

You might have laughed, too, if your body wasn't so taut, strung tight with tension and pain and something far more profound. He was barely inside you, his words making your insides clench, drawing another groan from his lips at the squeeze.

His hand held your jaw, palm pressing lightly over your mouth, enough to breathe, to speak—

"Why—" you knew what he meant, knew the warning in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself. "—not?"

His breath hitched. "Because—" he swallowed hard, words coming through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening around your jaw, a warning in his grip. "Because—fuck—your mouth will get you in trouble."

Oh. That was what he meant.

"But—oh fuck—you're so...big..." the words slipped out before you could catch them, a disgruntled moan falling from your lips as he sank all the way in, filling you so completely it was dizzying. The pressure, the heat, the sensation of being pried open—it was all too much, and you cried out, unable to stop the sound from spilling out. "Ohhh—so big—"

"I said, fuck," he cursed, hand clamping firm over your mouth now as his body shuddered, as he ground his hips gently into yours. "—don't say that."

It was too late. You didn't need to say anything further. He could feel it—he could feel everything in the way you clenched around him, barely letting him move—so goddamn tight it was almost painful—he could feel it in the look in your eyes, in the trembling of your body beneath his.

"I can feel you thinking it," he grunted as you squirmed beneath him, every movement making him twitch inside you, drawing another choked groan from his throat. "Merlin sakes—"

You knew he wasn't used to this. To slowing down, to drawing out the tension like this, to the maddening slowness of every motion. He wanted to lose himself, to break you open hard and fast, to take and give and take again until both of you shattered into something unrecognizable. But he couldn't—not with the way your eyes glistened, not with the way you gasped and whimpered as he filled you.

"No talking," he sucked in a breath against your neck, his hips rolling into yours in slow, unbearable waves. "Only if you need me to stop."

He was breaking. So were you. Every thrust was an exquisite kind of torture—an ache that twisted and stretched, dulled only by the flick of his fingers against your clit. His lips pressed along your neck, kissed along the line of your jaw, groaning with each deep, patient push, carving his way into you as you clung to him, your mind floating through the fog of pain into something different—something overwhelming.

Your head fell back. “Oh—Oh gods—“

Each gasp felt like it might be your last as that something built deep inside you, tight and unfamiliar, an ache that didn't hurt but begged to be released. And he felt it too—Mattheo felt it, the way your body pulsed beneath his, the way you tightened around him like you couldn't bear to let him go.

"Bloody fuck—are you—are you going to—" his words were ragged, broken. He couldn't finish the thought, couldn't hold himself together. "Are you—"

“Mattheo—” your voice trembled, a breathless moan as your back arched, pressing into him, your body seeking more. The pain was null now, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, something tight and aching and good—you felt every inch of him inside you, every pulse of his cock as he moved, slow but relentless. “Mattheo—oh gods—”

"Fuck—" he bit down, teeth sinking into your neck as his fingers swirled your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You're gonna make me—"

You choked because there was no space for words, no breath for anything but the raw sound of your bodies—moans, gasps, ragged inhales tangled together as you both hurtled towards something inevitable. The light of the moon radiated the man above you and that was all you could register other than the rising crescendo of your climax—something so intense it scared you, almost broke you apart—your body seizing, trembling, as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, as he thrust deeper.

And then, there was only one more blink until you shattered beneath him, the orgasm tearing through you in oceanic motion, muscles clenching around him so tightly he could barely move—and then he was there, too, his body jerking as he groaned into your skin, his release ripped from him in jagged gasps as you milked him without mercy. He slumped on top of you, fingers digging into your skin, the two of you pulsing together in the aftermath, the room spinning, your bodies still trembling from the force of it.

The world was slow to return, the roar of sensations fading into something quieter, softer. The weight of him on top of you was grounding—his forehead pressed against the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Neither of you moved for a long while, just basked in the silence, kind that settled in after something irrevocable had passed between two people.

And then, Mattheo pushed up, enough to meet your eyes. Your chest ached at the softness inside his own.

“Are you—” he swallowed as he drank you in, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the flushed cheeks. His words hung in the air as if he didn’t know how to finish the question.

“I’m okay,” you nodded, voice hoarse. “I’m good.”

Mattheo nodded too but didn’t move, still buried inside you, just taking you in. Then, gently, he shifted, pulling back with a slow, careful movement that made you wince slightly. The second he’d pulled out, you felt different—more aware of the vulnerability you’d just laid bare, more aware of the line you two had just obliterated into absolute shambles.

“You sure?” he asked, a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—

You nodded again, the smallest smile pulling at your lips, though your heart was still racing, the enormity of it all sinking in.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m sure.”

His jaw tightened, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.

“This changes everything, doesn’t it?” His voice was barely audible, like he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

Of course he was thinking it too—how could he not? This was no longer something you could pretend didn’t exist, no longer something you could hide behind banter and stolen glances and secret kisses.

“Yeah,” you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the heat still radiating from his skin. “It does.”

#do you have any idea how much i worship you #i swear your writing makes me fall in love every damn time #and then i need 7-12 days to emotionally recover #fuuuuuuck #this is my favourite mattheo #mattheo riddle x reader

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hitomisuzuya · 1 day ago

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Hey hey Suzuuuu

I hope you can see this request..

It’s a nsfw

I would like to request Wanderer x shy fem reader at Sumeru Akademiya, a new student came in and its reader who is shy to introduce herself. And the teacher told the new student to sit next to Wanderer and Wanderer finds it annoying when he preferred to be alone.

At some time, Wanderer becomes like a bully when he likes to tease and make fun of fem reader only to see her reactions, and it makes him like want to corrupt her innocence.

wanderer (scaramouche) x fem!reader. smut corruption. fingering. bullying. minor degradation.

i want to sincerely thank everyone for letting me take my time and go through requests at my own pace 😭🥺 i feel bad, though.

wanderer only went to class that day because nahida insisted on walking him there. if she hadn't, he would gone right out into the forest to hide and maybe nap in a tree for awhile. a more valuable use of his time, in his opinion, but nahida insisted that the akademiya would be good for him.

he could practically taste your innocence the moment you walked through the lecture hall door. it was pure in a way he hadn't considered still existed. through his sheer annoyance at you being seated next to him (his table was the only empty seat. he could totally see why), he shot you a glare that sent an unexpected shiver up your spine.

"don't think we are going to be friends because you are sitting next to me," he wanted to level with you right here and now. "99% of the time, i won't even be here."

"oh, that's fine," you replied, organizing your books and tucking some hair behind your ear. "i'm not here to make friends. i am here to learn," you pursed your lips, and offered him a soft smile, "my family also has high expectations of me."

"i didn't ask," wanderer replied, crossing his arms and finding a spot to fixate on and stare at for the rest of the class. chances are he knew more things politically than the professor. the asshole who wrote that essay about what he thought happened on tatarasuna sure thought he knew everything.

still though, as much as he hates it, he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye. it was easy for him to tell what kind of girl you are in these moments. you certainly had no issue sitting there, looking pretty while you listened with such foolish intent. you even took notes on the smallest, most useless things.

did you think this knowledge may come in use later?

judging from your explanation earlier, wanderer knew exactly what to capitalize on and take advantage of.

he didn't expect you to have the most interesting reactions when he bullied you.

"it must be so hard for you," wanderer cooed condescendingly, watching you survey the mess he made by knocking all your books out of your hands. "always being a goody goody. doing your homework on time, never missing class," sighing, he kicked one of notebooks out of the way as you reached down to pick it up. "you have be getting crushed under the weight."

"i..i am just so clumsy," you stumbled over your words a little, clearly flustered. wanderer licked his lips. you are just so interesting. he'd just been so mean to you. anyone should've snapped or fought back. but not you. you had the shyest flush on your cheeks. were you enjoying this?

as for you, you are. the more interactions you have with wanderer bullying you, with his enchanting electric eyes and condescending purr to his voice, the wetter you got. it was embarrassing to you. a fact that you had a hard time coming to terms with. at first.

he even used a small gust of anemo to knock your water bottle out of your hand one day, tossing water all over your shirt (it was to see your nipples harden in your bra from cold the water was), but you only looked at him with further adoration.

but his bullying just felt so good. you couldn't possibly tell him that you often fingered yourself until you were a wet, twitching mess at night after classes.

in wanderer's still very twisted mind, corrupting you would be helping you. he didn't even know when he started coming to class everyday, but you were starting to look like you weren't sleeping well. your hands shook while you took tests.

the moment you felt wanderer's hand dip into your panties for the first time, parting your folds and grazing your clit, your hips immediately jerked up to grind on his fingers. fingers that you always thought are so ungodly beautiful it should be considered a crime.

a moan you didn't even mean to let out sounded from you. the more those beautiful fingers stroked your pussy, the more it throbbed and clenched. your eyes widened in an aroused desperation, your hole clenching around the tips of his fingers as he prodded them teasingly at your entrance.

"you poor thing," wanderer cooed, "this is probably the best you have felt ever," he slowly wagged the pads of his fingers on your clit, tearing mewls from you as he just as teasingly pinched your clit. "you are so fucking wet, your cunt will suck my fingers in."

your clit throbbed, feeling shamelessly compelled to rub your soaking pussy on his fingers. "i thought you had to get to class?" he continued. your eyes widened as he started to take his hand out of your panties. "do you know how foolish it is to try and please everyone all the time?"

your hand shot out to grasp his wrist. "no, please. i don't want to go anywhere. i want to stay right here with you," you urged his hand between your legs again. "please," your eyes watered in desperation.

wanderer chuckled. did you have an idea how much of a turn on you are in general? you, the good and innocent girl was begging to skip class and stay with him with your legs spread on his bed. fuck, you deserve to have your pretty pussy stuffed full with his fingers. "who knew you are really such a slut?"

you are breaking so well under the weight of his corruption. you couldn't think about anything other than the need to feel his fingers fucking into you. thoughts you'd never had before about anyone. until wanderer.

"good girl," he tuggedyour panties off, his cock straining from watching the soaked material peel off your pussy. "moan for me while i break you. it's what you want the most, no?" he pushed two fingers inside of you, stretching you apart and hooking them to the knuckle into your sweet spot.

you nodded, jolts of pleasure crackling through you. your eyes nearly rolled closed in pleasure as he started pumping his fingers. they would've had he not put a hand on your jaw. "no, no, kitten. i wanna see those pretty eyes of yours while i make you cum," he gently squeezed your jaw to remind you of your place.

it is erotic to him how some of your moans even had a tinge of shock in them. you are coming apart so fast, your body only relaxing and submitting to him. he was devouring you, and nothing has ever felt better in your whole life.

the pumps of his fingers grew more aggressive with your consistent moans. he stretched your pussy apart so perfectly, sussing out every sensitive spot between your walls effortlessly. "a third finger, please," you moan, rocking your hips up extra to convey your plea.

wanderer was more than happy to oblige you. he abruptly added a third finger, bullying it against your sweet spot. a near scream of pleasure tore from your throat. "are you feeling good, slut?" his cock pulsed as your walls snapped tighter around his fingers. you obviously enjoy being degraded. "you'll tend to my cock next, yes?"

you struggled to even nod, your cheeks flushed with adoration. "yes! i want to more than anything!" you cried out, stroking his wrist in appreciation as your orgasm curled tighter, your juices frothing and gathering on the insides of your thighs.

"oh? more than going to class or pleasing your family?" wanderer couldn't wait for your inevitable response. a response that would no doubt make him want to impale you on his cock even more. he couldn't break you too fast.

could he?

"yes, yes please! so much more than..than.." your words fell away, the knot of your orgasm building and tightening to an almost overwhelming degree. "anything!" you barely managed to cry out, twitching and writhing as you scrambled to chase the wonderful high unlike any other that he was providing.

wanderer couldn't help but laugh shakily, slowly stroking his cock. you look more beautiful breaking than he imagined. he knew he didn't have to keep his hand on your chin anymore. you couldn't and wouldn't dream of taking your eyes off. not when he'd demanded you to keep looking at him while you cum.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #wanderer #wanderer smut #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #tw bullying

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pomefioredove · 2 days ago

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@hxney-lemcn said more cater fics and I am here 2 deliver ✌️✌️

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ friends kiss, too

type of post: short fic characters: cater additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, friends 2 lovers ON TOP! a little making out

Every time Cater drags you through one of these things, you ask yourself why you let him, and every time, the answer is the same: he's your best friend, and you love him.

It's the very same reason you let him spam you with texts and annoy you with surprise selfies. It's the reason you rarely hang out with anyone else, because you know it makes him jealous, though he'd never admit that.

It's the reason you're here, now, awake in your room well past curfew.

Despite the threat of a Housewarden who would flay you alive if he caught you and Cater sneaking around in the dead hours of the night, your bestie was absolutely insistent on this all-nighter.

It's a trend on Magicam, he said, and he had, of course, pouted and whined like a sad puppy until you agreed to "support him" by keeping him awake.

By two in the morning, you were more bored than tired.

"Pass. Pass," Cater says, swiping through dating profiles on his phone. "Hm... no, pass."

You sigh and slump against the headboard of your bed. "You've said that word so many times, it doesn't sound real anymore,"

"Ughhhh. Is Sage's Island where hotties go to die? I just want a cute holiday romance!" he exclaims. "Think of the pics!"

You roll your eyes. You'd heard that exact string of words probably ten times in the past few days.

"You can't date someone just for couple photo ops,"

Cater pouts. "Oh, yes I can. I specify "nothing serious" on my profile! It's not like I'm lying!"

Another eye-roll. He's technically right, as always, which just makes you even more annoyed.

But you don't want to get into an argument about the morality of flings right now.

"And it's cold out. Who am I gonna hold when it gets even colder? It's cuffing season, hon,"

Something about the way he says that bothers you. You try not to think about it so much.

"Well, you'll always have me," you tease.

Cater giggles, and sets his phone down on the bed, a subtle way of showing you that you have his full attention now. "Oh? What's this? Sounds like you're offering,"

"Not what I meant," you counter. "I'm your bestie, not your bae."

"Boooo. What are you, a nun? Friends cuddle all the time,"

Again, he's right. He likes being right, and you can see that on him now, too. He has that competitive glow on his face.

You smile. "Sure, sure, but we all know that cuddling isn't what you're looking for,"

Cater gasps, feigning offense with a hand placed delicately over his heart. "I am not that easy! I'm starting to think you really do want me all to yourself,"

If anything, it's the other way around. Since befriending him at the start of the school year, you'd always had the feeling that he took up all your time on purpose. But you don't say that.

"Besides," he goes on. "There are a lot of things that besties can do that are perfectly friend-like. The segregation of romantic and platonic is a totally oppressive amatonormative structure, anyway."

You roll your eyes. "You have got to stop reading those infographics. Do you even know what any of those words mean?"

"Not the point! I'm saying that there's lots of cute stuff we can do while remaining besties,"

He's very enthusiastic about this. You can't tell if it's his penchant for being right, or something more.

"Pfft. Okay. So, what, friends can kiss?"

"Obviously," Cater crosses his arms over his chest, giving you that smug look of his. "Friends kiss, too."

"Then prove it,"

The words that had you had been holding in the back of your mouth for the past few minutes escape before your brain can stop them.

Even Cater, who's never surprised, pales a little.

Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens, again without your thoughts offering any support.

"I didn't mean-"

"Okay,"

You blink. Something hot and cold at the same time runs through your body- adrenaline, anxiety, maybe it's just your own blood heating up at the way Cater leans closer, cupping your face in his hand, his fingers curled under your jaw and thumb gently brushing against your cheek.

His hands are kinda sweaty. You don't really mind, and even if you did, it wouldn't have mattered, because his lips are now sweetly pressing against yours.

You fit together quite nicely. As if he was just meant to kiss you.

It's hard not to think about everything all at once; his warm hand moving to cup your chin and hold you close to him, his hair brushing against your face, the way his lips still linger with spice from whatever he'd eaten earlier...

It's not perfect. But it's him, which is close enough.

Cater pulls away, his breath dancing across your lips, but he gives you no time to recover before he's closer, kissing you again with a sort of heat that matched the taste of his mouth.

He holds your face in both hands, shamelessly pinning you against the headboard and sitting in your lap as if he belonged there, always.

Minutes go by. Maybe hours. You wouldn't have noticed, or cared, either way. When you finally part from one another, it's felt like years.

You feel like an entirely different person. As if the world had ended and begun again in the six minutes you had been kissing him.

Cater sits atop your thighs, panting, his face redder than his Housewarden's hair, that of which would have flayed you both if he were to catch you like this.

Luckily, it's just the two of you.

"See?" Cater finally mumbles, dismounting you and scooting back to where he left his phone. "Platonic."

You're too breathless to argue.

You suppose you'll let him be right again.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #cater diamond x reader

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livbedum · 16 hours ago

Text

WHERE’D ALL THE TIME GO?

CHAPTER ONE

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ new summer , new camp , new people. you were beyond ready to take on the next few months , but you had to get through your first day before that comes.

word count 7.7k

warnings profanity , mentions of underage drinking , sexual innuendos , mentions of a cult.

CAMP JESSAMINE was going to be your permanent summer camp , you decided. just the drive to get to the campground was a perfect time. your best friend , taylor , was with you— with some persuasion , and the weather was perfect. the windows to your car were rolled down , stereo to the highest volume as it pumped out the tune of your favorite songs.

you and taylor were the type of people that listened to very specific songs that would only ever make the best coming of age movie soundtrack. it was something very special to the two of you ; romanticizing your lives through music.

as you turned onto the driveway before the parking lot in front of the administration building , two weeks by grizzly bear was playing. taylor reached over , twisting the volume knob to lower it as she took in your surroundings.

“this looks much better than skyline ridge did,” she pointed out , leaning out the open window just a bit.

you laughed at the welcomed diss on your old camp. “i don’t think that’s a tough standard to beat , but i do agree. this is a lot nicer,” you replied , rolling to a stop in the gravel lot. there were several cars already parked— some of the staff showing up to help orientation along.

the radio cut silent as you killed the engine before you reached over and grabbed your tote bag. “we need id’s and..?” taylor trailed off , looking through her own bag.

“just our id,” you reassured her, “lets go check in.”

you both clambered out of your car , not having stood on two feet for several hours. your heart was pounding as you made your way to the front door. it was decorated with a banner above shouting, ‘welcome to camp j!’

with one hand clutching taylor’s , you push the door open and step inside. there’s a line of tables with staff members behind them , helping some new staff members sign in and get instructed on where they’d be bunking for the summer. you were silently praying that taylor and you would be close to each other if not paired up.

“hello! welcome on in , guys!” it was a blonde girl , probably your age , waving you two over. her hair was the perfect amount of curled and flowy for it to look naturally effortless , and her smile was practically blinding you as you walked her way. she looked like the human embodiment of sunshine. “hi , what are your names?”

“y/n,” you answered before clarifying, “y/l/n.”

the blonde didn’t even need to look down at the clipboard in her hands before letting out an excited squeal. “ah! you’re my newbie!”

taylor laughed for a moment before covering her lips with a hand. “and me? taylor mcmahon?”

“ooh , you’re with cleo,” sarah— if she was wearing the proper name badge, answered with a smile, “she’s one of my best friends. our cabins are actually pretty close to each other , too. she’s probably in the dining hall right now getting our dinner set up for tonight , but i’m sure you’ll meet her soon. actually , i’m almost done for my shift of signing people in , so if you wanted i could bring you guys around. introduce you to cleo and kiara. she’s another one of my friends who works here.”

while sarah talked and got papers ready , you could feel a good summer coming in your veins. you and taylor were paired up with two best friends and wouldn’t be staying that far a part , and the girl you were paired with seemed plenty nice.

“i think we’d love that,” you smiled back , picking up a pen and filling out the small sheet handed to you. meanwhile , taylor’s eyes were elsewhere.

“who is that?” without looking up , you know she found a boy to ogle from across the room, “and can he be my newbie?”

sarah chuckled for only a moment before she cut herself off. “oh,” she spoke , eyes landing on katherine’s latest find. “that’s—“ you didn’t really listen to who it was , focusing on your form to get it out of the way as fast as possible.

any allergies? no. any food allergies? no. any health conditions that require medication? no. favorite color? green. favorite drink? probably coffee? you finished filling the blanks before slipping the branded pen into your pocket.

“here you go,” you cleared your throat , handing sarah the slip of paper before picking up your bag from the floor, “anything you need to give me?”

sarah grinned , noticing you wouldn’t be a newbie newbie , just someone who hadn’t been to camp jessamine before. “just your name badge , some t-shirts , the cabin key , itinerary , and list of campers!” it was all handed to you in a packet , badge and lanyard laying on the top of it, “let me grab taylor’s and we’ll head over to the cabins.”

taylor took her own packet and lanyard , slipping the blue loop over her neck with a smile. “you know what , y/n/n? i think you were right : this will be a good summer.” her eyes were still trained on the guy at another set of tables.

looking at him now , you could actually scan over him. camp jessamine t-shirt a half size too small , making his arms budge out of the sleeves just a bit ; buzzed hair ; beyond tall ; perfectly tan skin. “you can have ‘im , babe,” taylor started, “i’ll take his friend.”

your eyes shifted ever slightly to the right , taking in the dark skinned boy that just entered the building , immediately going to his friend and dapping him up. “i don’t date guys from camp , tay. that’s like rule number one.”

“you guys ready?” sarah’s voice cut through your conversation.

“let’s go!” taylor beamed , hooking her arm in yours.

leading you back outside through a different door , sarah began her tour. “so we were just in admin , and that is the gymnasium,” she pointed across the way at another bigger building. it had an outside court as well , giving away its title. “over here is the dining hall , so we’ll stop in for cleo.”

she was smiling the whole time , as if this was some paradise , and you couldn’t help but hope that’ll be you next year. “how long have you been a counselor here?” you wondered , looking all around you all while following sarah through the grass.

“forever,” she simply answered, “i think my first actual memory is from this camp. i went every summer growing up ; a lot of us did. the next move was to obviously start working here,” she continued to explain , slowing her pace just a little for you two to keep up. her eyes noticed how you and taylor were trying to take everything in. “and here we are!”

ever the welcoming committee , sarah opened the door and let you walk through. “sare , who you got with you today?” a boy spoke up , heading your way. she quickly kissed him on the lips before ‘presenting’ you and taylor to the few others in the dining hall.

“y/n , taylor , this is john b , cleo , kiara , and pope,” she introduced everyone , pointing at each of her friends, “guys , this is y/n and taylor. y/n is my bunk buddy , and cleo you get taylor!”

“alright , come here , girl! let me check you out,” cleo hyped taylor up before pulling her in for a hug, “i’m not the newbie anymore , y’all.” the last bit was directed to her friends.

you all laughed at her words , knowing almost all of you had felt that feeling before. “were y’all headed to the cabins?” pope had asked , breaking up the chuckles.

“yeah,” you nodded, “sarah wanted to stop and grab cleo before we settle in.” as you answered , your eyes took in the group , sizing them up in a way to get your read on them.

“yo! new chicks just came in and they are hot! saw ‘em with sarah getting—“ two swing doors opened , a guy walking backward through them with boxes in his arms. when he turned and saw the three extra people in the room , he quickly shut up. “hi there! uh— there’s actually like , i don’t know , four other sarah’s who work here,” he lied , stumbling over his words as everyone laughed.

“right , okay. well , that’s jj,” sarah groaned , clearly unimpressed despite her giggles, “j , this is y/n , my roommate. and this is taylor , cleo’s roommate.”

the blonde swiftly flipped his hat to be facing backwards after putting the boxes down on a table. “nice to meet you , ladies,” he smirked , reaching his hands out crisscrossed for you to both shake. being polite , you both meet his hands , shaking them with smiles.

“nice to meet you , jj,” taylor smiled , catching the fact that he was perfectly your type ; catching that fact that you were blissfully aware that he was perfectly your type.

“hi,” you managed to speak , cheeks flushing bright and ears getting hot, “well , we gotta go— gotta go get , um , unpacked,” you stuttered , pointing to the door and stepping away, “sarah?”

your new friend was grinning ear to ear watching you drown , but she quickly came to your rescue. “see you guys later,” she chuckled , coming and grabbing your shoulders before pulling you away. she led you out the front door and to one of the several golf carts. “so that was something.” sarah couldn’t help herself but laugh a little when you were alone.

“i’m going to kill myself if i talk like that all summer,” you joined in on making fun of yourself, “is everyone that volunteers here that hot?” you questioned , thinking back to the guy you saw signing people in.

“yeah , that’s a perk for sure. something in the water on the cut made those pogues fine,” sarah agreed , turning the golf cart on whenever you threw your bags down in the back.

“okay , first of all : what’s the cut? and secondly , what’s a pogue?” you asked , turning in the seat as sarah took off in the direction of your cabin. neither one of those words seemed too endearing.

sarah looked back at you and took a deep breath. “well , we’re all from this island : kildare. on said island , there’s the nice neighborhood which we call figure eight. then there’s the not so nice neighborhood which we call the cut,” she explained as you listened intently, “all of them are from the cut , sparing kie. she’s a born kook.”

“so if you’re from the cut , you’re a pogue , and if you’re from figure eight , you’re a kook?” you recalled , still not entirely understanding the classist labels.

“it’s dumb , but yeah,” sarah nodded simply.

you took the answer for what it was and focused ahead of you. you could see the cabins now. they were set in five half circles , three cabins in a group. in front of them was a fairly large fire pit with handfuls of chairs littered around the area.

“which one are we in?” you questioned as sarah slowed to a stop.

“we’re in cabin number six! cleo and taylor are going to be in four , and kie is in five,” sarah answered , grabbing one of your bags to help you inside.

“these are nice,” you gaped , stepping into the cabin. there were six bunk beds , three on either side of the building. a bathroom in the back , and another door next to it.

“our room is back here,” sarah announced , moving through the cabin towards the last door, “ta-da!”

you set your bags down at the end of the bed that was still available and looked around. sarah had set up her side of the room already , fairy lights across the ceiling , posters on the wall , and her bed all done up.

“okay , these are really , really nice , dude,” you echoed yourself , amazed at how much more money is clearly put into this camp than your last.

sarah waved you off, “eh , it’s whatever,” she laughed, “just kidding. it’s actually insane how fancy this camp is. even i can admit it.”

“my last camp was an actual dumpster fire compared to this,” you admitted , starting to unravel your bedding to make the room seem homier, “packed cabins , shitty food , bunch of old people for camp counselors. jessamine is an upgrade.” sarah sat down on her bed and listened to you with a smile. she liked you already , that wasn’t hard. “and you all seem actually nice too. that’s another perk on top of how hot you guys are,” you continued with a laugh.

jj. you hated you were still thinking about him. that’s not how you ever want your summers to be. summer flings were not on your list of things to do in your twenties. you wanted to completely focus on yourself and getting to where you wanted to be in life. no blonde surfer boy was going to change that.

“so… you’re still picturing jj in that pretty , little head of yours,” sarah read your mind , holding back a cheesy grin when you turned to her.

“i don’t date boys from summer camp,” you simply said , going back to making your bed. the two of you stayed in silence until you had finished setting up your bed and unpacking. you fell into the mattress with a sigh.

sarah’s position on her bed matched yours , completely sprawled out and exhausted. “i feel like this is the first time i’ve gotten to just chill in like a week,” she huffed , staring up at the ceiling.

“yeah , me too,” you agreed, “me and taylor were on a road trip just before we came here , so i’ve been cramped in my jeep for way too long.”

“wait— how old are you?” sarah questioned , sitting up on her elbows to look over at you.

“nineteen. almost twenty,” you answered , copying her actions, “you?”

“twenty…” she replied with a smile, “which means i’m no longer the baby of the group , so thank you for that.”

“it’s okay. i’m used to it,” you mused, “youngest daughter of six. taylor is older than me , and most of the friends i’ve ever made have been too. nothing new to me.”

it was true ; you were quite used to being the ‘baby’ of whatever group you were around. you grew up that way. as much as you hated it , you did get away with a lot more. such as doing what you’re currently doing. your dad was pissed when he got the email you sent him one morning. it was the day you officially packed all of your things and left home. he had decided you were to be a doctor— what kind? he didn’t care , but a doctor nonetheless. you , however , wanted to travel and experience everything you possibly could while snapping pictures and showing the rest of the world. not exactly an easy thing to come to a compromise on.

that was two years ago.

“well , i hated it. the guys would make fun of me all of the time,” sarah laughed now , it not being as sore of a spot for her, “but that makes taylor… twenty?”

“—one,” you finished for her, “she’s like my best friend and big sister all in one.”

“don’t you already have five of those?” sarah recalled , furrowing her perfectly groomed eyebrows.

you looked away for a moment , fairy lights catching your eyes again. “technically , but i don’t really think blood is what makes family,” you shrugged , pushing yourself to sit up entirely, “show me around some more?” it was an obvious attempt at changing the subject , but it worked.

“wanna see the ponies?”

AFTER ABOUT two hours of sarah showing you around the camp grounds , you found yourself back in your cabin. it was nearly three , so you still had some to yourself before the counselors’ meeting started up before dinner.

you hadn’t seen taylor since you split up at the dining hall , so you were by yourself since sarah had to help with some administrative duties. with your free time , you made the decision to start setting out the things you brought for the girls you’d be mentoring for the summer.

daisy.

amber.

noah.

celeste.

miranda.

kylie.

the first thing on the list was making the covers for their journals. you had pressed three-d stickers on the front , spelling out all of their names. you set the books down on the dressers , pairing each with a disposable camera and pack of pens.

in the bathroom , you had set up a box of essentials. twelve teenage girls in one cabin? it was needed. you hung up a cuter shower curtain , laid down a better floor mat. you were happy with the way everything looked so far , so you moved back into the living area. you set out the mini projector you brought , coloring books and markers , card and board games , bracelet making kits. you were just making the cabin more lived in with plenty of things to do.

you had your headphones in , listening to your own music while you got everything set up. lost in your own world.

“excuse me!”

you jumped , hand clutching your chest as someone pulled one of your headphones from your ear. “holy shit! wow! sorry,” you breathed out , turning to face the person who disrupted your jam session.

“no , i’m sorry,” he replied with a chuckle, “i’m looking for sarah. last i heard she was here , but i guess not.”

“oh , yeah. she went to admin,” you answered , pulling the other headphone out and draping the wire across your shoulders, “i can tell her you stopped by…”

“rafe,” he finished for you , reaching a hand out, “i’m sarah’s brother. cabin seven.”

you nodded with a smile , reaching your hand out for him to shake. he took your hand in his , engulfing it entirely. “y/n. sarah’s roommate. cabin six,” you replied, “just do you know.”

“won’t forget it,” rafe assured you , taking a look around the room, “i like what you’ve done to the place,” he added as he inspected the hanging plant you had hung up.

“i think it’s good for campers to live in a cozy place while they’re away from home,” you explained it , hands coming behind your back as you rocked back and forth on your feet, “i don’t know— it might be dumb.”

“nah,” he immediately dismissed you. he shook his head and looked at you again with a soft smile, “s’cute. see ya around , freshie.”

your eyes trailed after him as he left the cabin , most likely in search of his sister. “see ya , vet!” you called after him , smile still gracing your lips, “jesus , something is in the water around that island.” somehow , rafe looked even better up close than he did when you first got a glimpse of him earlier.

“so you met rafe?”

another voice pulled you out of your thoughts this time. taylor. “thank god,” you sighed , moving to the bedroom and flopping on your now made bed. taylor laughed to herself , following in suit and cuddling up next to you. your arm draped over her stomach , holding your friend close.

“what’s going on , bug?” she asked , dragging a loose lock of hair out of your face, “talk to mama.”

“i think i miss my sisters?” you hummed , staring off at the wall lazily, “which is ridiculous. most days , i would rather go back to cult skyline , but i don’t know. sarah and i somehow brought that up for a moment , and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

“okay…” taylor nodded, “do you want my advise or or me to just listen?” god , she knew you so well.

you just sighed deeply , letting all of the air in your lungs leave your body. “i just wanna sit here for a second. take a minute before the kids get her in two days,” you shrugged.

the two of you laid in bed for a while— you weren’t sure how much time had passed until your phone started going off to let you know it was nearing five. you groaned , reaching over a sleeping taylor and grabbing your phone to shut your alarm off.

“tay , time for the meeting,” you spoke , nudging her awake. she groaned , stretching out her body as she came to. “let’s go meet everyone else.”

“yeah , yeah. i’m coming,” she promised , pushing herself up as you did the same.

despite taking the golf cart to the cabin , the walk back over to admin wasn’t all that bad. cleo had met up with you , formally introducing herself to you. it wasn’t long before you were sat around another fire pit the camp had with the rest of the camp leaders.

“all right , everyone! how we doin’?” the woman still standing clapped her hands together , and you recognized her as marsha , the person you were communicating with before you got to jessamine. everyone applauded , hooting and hollering in excitement. “okay , okay. so to start summer off , i just wanna go over a few rules. i know— i know , boring rules. boo. however , once i get them out of the way , all of the fun begins so…”

“she’s just like meagan,” taylor leaned over and whispered to you , referring back to one of the administrators from camp skyline.

you chuckled under your breath before facing back to marsha as she continued. “… no letting kids have sex , no letting kids do drugs or drink alcohol , no letting kids sneak out around camp by themselves in the middle of the night , and finally : absolutely no fraternization between counselors!” she made it a point to shout the last rule louder than the others, “cameron , maybank , i’m looking right at ya both , okay?”

the boys smirked to themselves , a few other guys patting their backs. you were sat somewhere in between them , getting a chance to look at both. jj was laughing with john b , smacking each other back in forth in argument as to who was the bigger camp slut. they agreed on the blonde.

and rafe , he was with his friends you hadn’t met yet. they were dapping him up , congratulating him on his many conquests over the years.

“now that we’ve all agreed on not fornicating on property , let the games begin!” marsha smiled, “you all know how this works. for you newcomers , you’ll pick up just fine. get with your cabin mate and check your emails. scavenger hunt begins… now!”

everyone shot out of their chairs , finding their partners if they weren’t already sat with them to start the game. when you got to sarah , who was only a few chairs away , she already had her phone pulled out with the email pulled up.

“okay , so this is what we do every year on the first night of camp,” she started , handing you her phone to look at the list, “winner gets to have their cabin get their meals before everyone else does for the first two weeks. it actually gets pretty intense.”

you laughed , handing the phone back to its rightful owner and smiling. “let’s win then.”

“alright! i like you a lot , miss y/n/n,” sarah replied , bumping your shoulder with hers. she started walking , so you kept up with her. taking advantage of the golf carts , sarah plucked the keys out of the cup holder and started one up. “we gotta start at the end. marsha thinks we don’t know , but she puts the list in order of location. the further down the list , the further it is from home base.”

“sounds like we’re going to come out on top then,” you commented, “drive faster.”

“back to the ponies we go,” sarah nodded , pushing her foot down on the gas pedal.

you sped off , passing several counselors that were on foot , including rafe. he was with the boy from check in that taylor was checking out and another blonde.

“sare , you know that shit’s practically cheating,” rafe yelled at his sister , causing her to slow down to a complete stop.

“really?” sarah feigned innocence. her big , brown eyes practically sparkled as she looked at rafe.

you leaned forward to look past sarah and at the guys standing next to your cart. “i don’t think marsha ever said that it’s not allowed,” you chimed in , pretending to think back in time, “so we’re gonna go win real quick , and we’ll see ya when we’re passing you in line for dinner.”

it was almost despicable how sweet your smile was compared to your competitive words. rafe eyed you up and down , not bothering to hide his gaze. “sounds like sarah’s already rubbing off on you , sweetheart. better get away from her before it gets worse,” he joked, “have you met kelce and topper yet , honey?” his hand pointed back to his friends , who were impatiently waiting for rafe to shut the hell up.

“no , she hasn’t,” sarah answered for you, “and also screw you. have fun losing again this year!”

with that , sarah hit the gas and drove you away from her brother. her hand flew up , waving bye as she laughed along with you. “god , please don’t take anything that boy says to heart,” she advised , looking over at you with a serious expression all over her face.

“what do you mean?”

“well…” she started, “y’know how marsh called him and jj out for being camp’s biggest whores? she’s not kidding. i love jj , and i love rafe , but those boys can’t keep it in their pants to save their lives. and they’ll say pretty much whatever to get into someone else’s. that includes sweet talkin’ you like rafe was trying to do with his ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ and shit,” she continued explaining, “just be cautious.”

you nodded slowly , taking her words as gospel. every summer camp ever has one or two counselors that fuck like rabbits , but it was your luck that you found them both attractive here. good thing you had your one rule. no dating boys from camp.

it was simple and definitive.

it was clear you and sarah were going to finish before the rest of the counselors by the time you got to the last scavenge point on your list. it was at the fire pit by the cabins in plain view. sarah took a quick picture of you standing next to the fire and holding up the medallion that was placed on the bricks. finally , you were able to hop on the golf cart and head to home base.

“so there’s this party the counselors do every first night of camp , and i think you should come,” sarah spoke up as you steered your way passed the others.

“there’s not a party on the itinerary,” you replied , already having the next few days memorized.

she laughed at you gently , patting your thigh. “babe , it’s not exactly something marsha knows about,” she explained, “it’s , like , a right of passage for the leaders to get drunk off their asses before the kids come. i mean , we usually have kick backs on the weekends , but this welcoming party is much different.”

“different how?” you asked , furrowing your eyebrows, “party’s a party.”

“well , it’s bigger. every single leader comes to it. hangouts on the weekends are usually split up amongst us and our little groups , so this one is the party.”

“yeah , sure. i mean , it would be dumb to miss out on it,” you chuckled with a shrug , pulling up to the administrative office you had been in hours and hours ago.

the blonde let out an excited squeal , yanking you into a hug before hopping off the cart and running into the building. you stayed still , waiting for her to come back out. “first in line , baby!” she shouted , raising her fists into the air as soon as she stepped out the door.

you cheered and laughed with her , turning the golf cart off and getting out. “i love you , sarah cameron,” you confessed , pulling her into a hug.

it was only one day , and you were convinced she might be your person. she had divulged you into all of her stories and drama and didn’t feel the need to hide anything from you so far. she gave you space when you wanted it earlier. she was good. “i love you too,” she replied with a smile, “lets go gloat!”

AFTER SARAH rubbed the win in her brother’s face , while you stayed back and watched it , you met up with the pogues. thankfully , taylor was still with cleo. you immediately pulled her to the side.

“okay , you’re pulling me,” she grumbled , stepping along with you.

“there’s a party tonight,” you stated.

“yeah , there’s one every year. they were just telling me about it,” taylor shrugged, “we going?”

“well , yeah , but on top of that rafe was flirting with me,” you blurted out , cheeks rosy from the thought of the interaction before and after the game.

taylor nodded slowly , glancing back at your new friends before looking in your eyes. “what about jj ‘perfect for you’ maybank?” she asked , nodding to the blonde boy , who was trying to wrestle with cleo.

“no , no. that’s the point. i don’t want anything to do with either of them,” you groaned , dropping your head back for a moment, “so i need you to cockblock if anything happens.”

“all summer? why don’t you just put on a frickin’ chasity belt?” taylor whined.

you rolled your eyes. “just for tonight. hopefully , rafe will catch on , and leave me alone. as for jj , i’ll just be his friend.”

“just lead him on?” taylor corrected you, “he was already bothering me about you. asking me all sorts of questions.” there was a smile in her words , trying to push you to go for it like she always did when it came to the cute boys at camp.

“not happening,” you simply stated , shaking your head, “just cockblock this once , and i’ll , like , suck your dick or something. i don’t know , just help me. because my roommate’s brother giving me slutty eyes and smiles the three times i’ve met him is not on my agenda , taylor. especially after sarah told me he’s kind of a douchebag.”

“okay , okay. you’re so uptight,” taylor agreed, “and now that you mention it , cleo and kiara were saying the same sort of things ‘bout him , so fine. i’ll cockblock.”

just as you two finished up , jj called out to you. “ladies , c’mon! dinner time!” he waved you both over. taylor sent you a look before jogging to catch up with the rest of the group. you headed that way , noticing jj stayed behind in wait. “i see congratulations are in order,” he smiled at you , walking in step with you.

“it was all sarah , really,” you smiled coyly.

he was cute. taylor was right about that. his unruly blonde hair shoved under a beat up , red cap. combat boots pires with a cut off tee. you hated that you were so obviously eyeing him. even more when he said something again.

“you can take a picture you know.” there was a smile evident on your face , eyes gentle as he looked at you like you looked at him.

you just blushed , walking a little faster. “dinner smells good!” you commented , opening the door and rushing in to find sarah or taylor.

you all went through the line , shoving yourself in between the girls so jj couldn’t talk to you. sarah and kiara led you to a table , and you were able to eat. you didn’t even realize how hungry you were until you were sat down.

“cleo , i think i’m in love with you,” you groaned , taking another bit of the sandwich.

“girl , this is nothing,” kie cut in, “you should’ve been here last year. she went all out!”

“i was trying to make a good first impression,” cleo shrugged with a smile , like her cooking skills were mediocre and not something you’d dreamt of before.

“so…” john b started, “taylor told me you guys used to go to some camp in tennessee?” his question was directed at you.

you nodded , covering your mouth as you swallowed the oversize bite you just took. “mmhm,” you hummed, “skyline ridge.” you answered.

“how come you came here?” pope asked this time.

“turns out it was a baby cult,” you admitted , feeling your ears turn hot at the statement. it was kind of embarrassing how you didn’t realize until after. but who’s to blame you? you were a kid. “like , it wasn’t obvious until you left , you know?”

“kinda like the kooks!” jj pointed out with his fork.

taylor shook her head, “no , it was a little more established than your classist island drama , jj.”

“yeah , it was bad , but who cares? we’re here now,” you smiled simply.

soon enough , you all finished your meals and split up yet again to get ready for the not-so-secret secret party. sarah and you were alone again , trading clothes and trying to find a good outfit for each other.

“hey , so i know we just met and all,” sarah began , shyly twist a skirt in her hands, “but i could tell there was something bothering you when we were getting dinner. everything okay?”

god , she was so sweet.

you paused , adjusting the shirt you had switched into before looking at her. “taylor’s convinced i should get a boyfriend this summer. specifically jj , and i’m just , i don’t know , that’s just not for me.”

she nodded , perching on the edge of her bed. “why not?” it was an innocent question.

“i don’t stay in one place too long ever. i think summer camp is the only place i’ll stick around for longer than a few weeks,” you answered , sitting on your bed to face her. clothes were scattered around the both of you , but your eyes locked and it was all left behind. “ever since i ran away , i haven’t stopped to look back. there’s no reason. i travel the world and do my own thing. boys just drag ya down,” you think you explained it well enough.

“i think the right boy could lift you up , if you let him,” sarah philosophied with a sneaky smile, “on that note , i’m gonna go meet up with john b. i’ll see you at the party , y/n/n.”

you waved goodbye , watching her walk out the back door and skipping over to cabin eight. you took a deep breath , mulling over all of the options your friends had been giving you all day.

by yourself , you finished getting ready. to be completely honest , you didn’t know if you wanted to go as much anymore. it was dark , and you didn’t know your way through these woods enough to go alone. you could easily just cozy up in bed and read a book.

a knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. you rushed over , opening the wooden slab as you poked your earring through its hole. when the door opened , it revealed none other than rafe. “hey,” he greeted you , waiting for you to invite him in before he moved. he watched as you put another earring in.

“hi,” you replied , moving to the side to let him come in away from the bugs, “looking for sarah?”

he let out a chuckle , nodding his head. “yeah… she said she’d go on a beer run with me,” he explained , shoving his hands into his pockets after closing the door.

“she left for the lake , like , twenty minutes ago,” you grimaced , continuing to get ready while rafe stood in the cabin area. you shrugged on a crocheted cardigan and stood in front of him. “how do i look for my first party?”

his deep blue eyes scanned over your figure , taking their time to drink you in. your legs were exposed as you wore a pair of shorts you obviously cut yourself. the bralette-esque top sarah let you borrow covered hardly anything. the cardigan was your saving grace for any modicum of modesty. his fingers found his lips , rubbing them almost in an attempt to physically stop any nasty comments from flying out.

“you look real good , freshie,” rafe complimented you, “uh— i’ll let you get to the party. see ya,” he stammered out , reaching for the door handle.

“oh , well i can go with ya. since sarah ditched you,” you offered up , promptly getting him to stop opening the door. you don’t know what changed in the last minute for you to go from wanting to stay in for the night to wanting to join the camp whore on a beer run , but it was already offered.

“if you wanna. i mean , it’s just a beer run , so it shouldn’t take long,” rafe nodded, “i’ll have you back to your little pogues in no time.”

“you guys and your kooks and pogues,” you rolled your eyes , running back into your room to grab your phone and camera, “you do realize you’re all nobodies outside of that little island , right?” you questioned him , brushing past his body to slip out the door.

“you wouldn’t understand,” rafe sighed , following you outside before taking the lead to his truck.

“try me,” you pressed. you were walking passed everyone— going against the grain. you both waved to a few of the people who said hello first , and then your eyes lock on jj’s.

he was walking with pope and kiara , but his eyes were trained on your movements and who you were with. and you don’t know why , but your heart actually stung a little bit when you saw him tear his eyes away from you , going back to talking to his friends like nothing happened.

nothing did happen.

it’s a beer run with a fellow camp leader. big deal.

“so?” you nudged rafe with your elbow, “what’s this big thing between kooks and pogues my tiny mind just don’t understand!” you were being theatrical , and rafe chuckled a little bit before shoving you a little in the direction of his truck that came into view.

“it’s always been that way. the island was always the rich and the poor,” he began to explain, “but i think right now is the most polarized it’s ever been. i mean , we’re getting into fights all of the time. jj got arrested for sinking topper’s boat a couple of years ago! it’s all eye for an eye back home.”

rafe stopped to open the passenger door for you before moving around and climbing behind the wheel. you buckled up and looked at him. “you know that saying though?”

“hmm?” he hummed.

“if it’s always eye for an eye , eventually everyone is blind?” you mused , waiting for him to pick up on it.

“okay,” he rolled his eyes now, “you don’t get it.”

“no! hey , don’t pout,” you pointed at him when he focused more on the roads than the conversation , which usually you’d be grateful for a responsible driver , but you can only assume he usually isn’t. “it’s not me making fun of you as much as it is telling you there is a big , big world out there that doesn’t give a damn if your from the cut or the loop or whatever the fuck you call it.”

“figure eight,” he corrected you , fixing his pouty lips into a smile as he glanced at you again.

“whatever— do you have a fake? if not , i do , so we can get the beers,” you changed the subject.

and he laughed at you. “baby , i don’t need a fake id.”

“oh , well , okay. how old are you?” you stuttered at the nickname. what was with this man and terms of endearment?

“twenty-three.” he leaned over and gave you the biggest , toothiest smile.

“old man,” you scoffed , pushing his head away from you, “you should be old enough to realize that—“

“that the stupid generational rivalry is pointless. yeah , yeah,” he finished for you, “just let me buy you some drinks for the party and be happy about it,” he joked.

“oh , i don’t drink,” you shook your head.

that’s what got him to look at you fully. “shit— sorry , i didn’t mean to offend you. it’s just , i don’t know , you offered to come with me , so i guess i just assumed,” he rambled off as you started giggling.

his brows furrowed in confusion , not understanding what was funny or why you were laughing at him. “i’m kidding , ray,” you laughed , patting his head gently, “of course i drink. why else would i have a fake , doofus?”

with the relief that you weren’t actually making fun of him , rafe was able to laugh along with you. he did take notice of the nickname you gave him , though. “ray,” he whispered.

“like sunshine , ya know? it’s an oxymoron,” you explained, “and it could easily be an actual nickname for you , so it’s perfect.”

“ray like sunshine,” rafe echoed with a nod, “how exactly is that an oxymoron?”

you looked at him with a sly smile. “you’re not exactly cheery.”

“uh uh!” he argued back, “i can be cheery as fuck!”

you let out a belly laugh , tilting your head back , and rafe thinks he’s met his maker when you do. “i would looooove to see you be anything but flirty with me or grouchy with sarah. truly , i’d enjoy it,” you remarked , shifting your seat a little.

“there’s a lot you haven’t seen from me yet,” rafe remarked , proving your point of only ever being cheeky or grumpy.

“exhibit a,” you pointed, “i’m gonna start keeping count.” the two of you chuckled as he pulled into the parking lot ( of what you assume is ) the closest liquor store to camp.

“c’mon , honey. you’re mrs. rafe cameron if anyone asks,” he included you in his little scheme as if it was a necessity to this beer run. he hopped out of the truck , opening your door once again for you to slide out and land on the ground. “after you,” he smiled , opening the business’ door.

“okay , my ray of sunshine husband,” you playfully scrunch your nose , walking into the store. he was already trying to be ‘sunshiney’ after your comment.

you paused when you stepped in , waiting for rafe to drag you through the store as you’d never been. “follow me,” he simply said , grabbing your hand like he’d done it all his life , like you weren’t two total strangers. it was that moment that made you realize you were starting to break your own rules. well , maybe you didn’t realize it realize it , but in the back of your head? you did.

he lead the way to the back cooler , stepping inside and grabbing a case of beer and one of the seltzers. “you want anything specific?” he looked over to you , seeing you standing in the door way , holding yourself tight at the temperature change. “c’mere,” he gestured to himself and opened his arm.

despite yourself , you moved quickly to him and snuggled into his side. his hand ran up and down your arm , trying to warm you up. “grab whatever you want , and we’ll get outta here.”

your hand reached for a case of ciders , but you paused to look up at him for approval. he nodded and grabbed it before you could and ushered you out of the cooler.

“id please,” the cashier spoke monotonously , looking at you and rafe like you were idiots.

“marco , i literally come here every year. we have this conversation every year,” rafe groaned , digging in his pocket for his wallet.

“and up until two years ago , you were just another jessamine shit head underage drinking,” marco joked , nodding to you, “id , hon.”

“oh—“ you started , but rafe cut you off.

“hey , she’s good,” he nodded , sending marco a message you couldn’t quite read yet, “mrs. cameron isn’t old enough yet. she’s just along for the ride. right , baby?” he continued with his lie , wrapping his arm around you again and squeezing you tight.

marco rolled his eyes , knowing rafe was going to slip him a crisp if he just processed the purchase. “have a good night , y’all,” he grumbled. you muttered a small reply , waving meekly as rafe set a hundred dollar bill on the counter. he tapped it once before grabbing the cases of drinks.

you held the door open for him this time , seeing as his arms were full. “m’lady,” you jested , even bowing before him as he walked through the exit with a scoff.

“shut up,” he chuckled , shaking his head. he set the drinks in the back seat and opened your door. “git on up,” he tapped your back before closing the door— only after making sure nothing of yours was in the way.

rafe wasn’t too sure why he was being all gentlemanly with you. maybe it was because he wanted to prove you wrong when you said he was just a flirt or a grouch. maybe it’s the way you were someone that didn’t know him yet , and he could be someone else for once.

hell , wasn’t that what summer was for?

the drive back was calm. you and rafe just chatted , asking each other questions and really listening to the other one’s answers.

you couldn’t help but think to yourself that maybe everyone else had got it wrong. rafe had depth. you listened to the way he talked about his work , his aspirations , his ideologies. he wasn’t just some camp whore you were so easily labeling him earlier.

“you know what , hubby?” you hummed , hand out the window , surfing the air. your head was rested against the seat , but you turn to look at him with a smile on your face.

“what ever is on your mind , dear?” he replied , goofy smile matching yours as did his tone. the ongoing joke between you two made you giggle before continuing.

“i think you might be one of the most complex people i have ever met,” you confessed genuinely , sweetly almost. and like it wasn’t the best , most heartfelt compliment anyone had ever given rafe , you turned forward again , closing your eyes to just feel the wind passing you by.

rafe held back a grin to himself , mimicking you and just focusing on the road to give you a quiet rest of the ride back. the peaceful kind of quiet rafe didn’t even believe existed.

a/n here it is! please let me know if you hate it or love it or have ideas!!! also: tea me posting this earlier than i expected:)

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @viennafantasies @cnnamongrl @embersfae @enchantingexile @urbrunettebombshell @wearemadeofstardust0 @psychicnatural @ecstqzy @ssqra @st4rkeyl0ver

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bellbery · 2 days ago

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— [P1] The Heart That Remained (Vander x f!Reader)

Summary: A monster, once a beloved protector, now haunts the tunnels of Zaun. The creature is revealed to be Vander, twisted by pain and rage, leaving his daughters Vi and Jinx to grapple with the truth. As a battle unfolds, past memories and present dangers clash, forcing a choice between saving Vander’s humanity or ending his torment. Love, guilt, and hope intertwine in this intense, emotional confrontation.

Word Count: 5.2k (im a jerk for angst)

Content/Warning: Angst to Fluff, less mention y/n until the ending, a bit bloody?, AND VERY ANGSTY

🖋️ Author’s Note: AS I PROMISED I WOULD MAKE A ANGSTY FIC ABOUT VANDER, and i promise you its worth the while i did my best to put into detail of the character’s personality and the places. It took me 3 days and i’m very happy how it turned out! Before yall read this maybe someone you haven’t watched S2, there will be spoilers obv— and i recommend yall listen to Dead Island Trailer Theme song while reading this cause personally it juST MATCHED THE SCENE IT- i hope yall enjoy my writing this is my 2nd fic! Please comment your feedback and simply support me by like and reblogs! Thank you very much yall!<3

After the chaos of the Piltover Council meeting, guilt gnawed at you like a relentless, suffocating force. Deep down, you knew Jinx—Vander’s daughter—was the cause of the devastation that had torn through the heart of the city. You couldn’t escape the weight of the promises you’d made long ago: to protect Vi and Powder when they were still just children. Those vows now felt like shattered glass, each piece embedded in your soul. You had failed them. And now, hidden behind the mask of an investigator, you carried your shame like a cloak. It was the only armor that allowed you to survive, to push down the searing ache that never seemed to go away. Months passed, and you thought you had found your rhythm in the cold, distant monotony of your work. Then Ambessa hired you. The aftermath of the beast’s rampage in the prison—the blood, the carnage—shattered that fragile peace. It was the most grotesque thing you’d ever seen. The nightmare still burned in your memory, its horrors etched into your mind like permanent scars. The beast, its monstrous presence a cruel reminder of the violence lurking in every shadow, had torn through the fragile walls of your life, dredging up the dangerous ties to the past you couldn’t outrun.

“How could this beast come out of nowhere?” You whispered, the question hanging in the air like a death sentence. Ambessa’s gaze locked onto you, icy and unyielding. The weight of her authority pressed down on you, suffocating. She leaned forward, her voice low, controlled—laced with quiet menace. “You’re asking the wrong question,” she said, her words like a blade. “It doesn’t matter how it got here. What matters is that it’s here now. And we don’t have the luxury of waiting for answers. We deal with it. We don’t waste time wondering why or how—it’s already cost us too much.” She paused, her eyes narrowing, a flicker of impatience cutting through her otherwise steady demeanor. “If you want to stay in this game, you’ll find out who—or what—created this monster. And you’ll do it fast. Before it costs us more.” You nod, the weight of Ambessa’s words settling heavily in your chest. Without a second thought, you move past the cells, your gaze flicking over them with practiced detachment. You push down the swirling thoughts threatening to overwhelm you, focusing on the task at hand. But as you walk, something pulls your attention—a cell, its door locked with an unnerving sense of finality. Something about it doesn’t sit right, a tension building in your gut.

Before you can step closer to investigate, the soft, rhythmic chime of the elevator cuts through the silence. The doors slide open, and out steps Commander Caitlyn Kiramman, her posture rigid, her face set in the same steely expression you’ve come to recognize. She doesn’t glance at you immediately, but when she does, her eyes flicker with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “Commander,” you murmur, your voice steady but carrying the weight of the unspoken. You can’t help but wonder if she’s here to speak of the very thing that’s been gnawing at your thoughts—the beast, the violence, the past that refuses to stay buried. “How is your investigation?” Caitlyn’s voice was steady, her usual sternness masking the exhaustion you knew she carried. Her sharp blue eyes flicked over you, searching for any hint of progress. You hesitated, your gaze drifting back to the closed cell. “It’s… ongoing,” you replied, the words clipped, as your unease bubbled beneath the surface. She followed your line of sight, noticing your fixation. Without waiting for an invitation, Caitlyn strode past you, her footsteps purposeful, echoing in the silence as she approached the cell. “What is it about this one?” she asked, her tone even, though her curiosity was evident. You didn’t answer immediately, the heaviness in your chest growing. “It’s locked,” you said finally, the words feeling too small for the weight of your unease. “But it’s too quiet. Too… deliberate.” Caitlyn reached out, resting her hand lightly on the cold metal bars. “Let’s open it,” she said decisively, her command leaving no room for argument. The tension in her voice betrayed her own unease, though her face remained calm and unreadable.

As the cell door creaked open, the air grew heavy with an acrid, chemical tang. There, sitting upright in the dim light, was a figure that made your breath hitch—Dr. Reveck. His sunken, hollow eyes locked onto yours, recognition flashing briefly across his face. Then came the cold, calculating glare of someone who had already weighed and dismissed your worth. “You’re persistent,” he murmured, his voice low and rasping, as though it hadn’t been used in days. “But persistence doesn’t make you immune to mistakes.” His lips twitched, a ghost of a smile that never reached his eyes. “What are you here for? To make another mistake?” Before you could respond, Caitlyn’s sharp footsteps echoed through the corridor, her tone cutting the tension. “Dr. Reveck,” she began, her words laced with authority, “you’re going to answer for what you’ve done. Whatever experiments you’ve been running—whatever monsters you’ve unleashed—it ends now.” Reveck’s expression didn’t waver, though his gaze shifted to Caitlyn with a disconcerting calm. “Answers,” he said, almost mockingly. “The only people who demand them are those too weak to seek the truth themselves.” The sudden clang of metal doors opening at the end of the hall signaled Ambessa’s arrival. Her towering figure filled the space, the weight of her presence silencing any retort Caitlyn might have had. Her eyes swept the scene before resting on Reveck. “This is the man responsible?” she asked, her voice an authoritative rumble. Reveck tilted his head slightly, observing Ambessa with a detached curiosity. “And you are?” he asked, his tone clinical, as though dissecting her existence. Ambessa took a step closer, her imposing frame making the cramped cell feel even smaller. “I’m the one deciding whether you’re worth keeping alive,” she said, her voice unwavering. “And right now, you’re not making a good case.”

The tension in the room was palpable, your pulse pounding in your ears as you stood frozen, caught between these forces of will. Caitlyn glanced at you, her expression tight, as if silently willing you to act or speak. Dr. Reveck finally turned back to you, his gaze sharper now, as though seeing past your mask of authority to the pain you’d been carrying. “Tell me,” he said softly, almost conversationally, “are you here to find answers, or are you just running from your own failures?” Before you could answer Dr. Reveck’s cutting remark, the sharp clink of handcuffs broke the silence. Caitlyn had stepped forward, her features stern as she clasped the restraints over Reveck’s thin wrists. “You’ll answer for your crimes,” she said coldly. “But your cooperation might still buy you a sliver of mercy.” Reveck barely flinched, his pale eyes darting between Caitlyn and Ambessa as if calculating the odds of survival. He let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Mercy,” he echoed, his voice dripping with disdain. “A curious word coming from Piltover’s enforcers. Tell me, Commander Kiramman—how does mercy reconcile with the blood already on your hands?” Caitlyn’s jaw tightened, but before she could reply, Ambessa’s voice rumbled from behind her. “Enough.” Her tone brooked no argument as she stepped into the cell, her towering figure filling the cramped space. “Your investigation isn’t finished here,” she said, her eyes locking onto yours with a commanding weight. “You’ve uncovered the man, but not the monster.”

Reveck’s lips curled faintly, a reaction as subtle as it was unsettling. “The beast,” he murmured, as though savoring the word. “You think you’re hunting it, but it’s already closer than you realize. Closer than any of you would dare admit.” Ambessa ignored him, her gaze still fixed on you. “Find it,” she said firmly. “Before this trail goes cold and more lives are lost.”

Reveck’s smile widened slightly, his voice taking on a cryptic edge. “And when you find it,” he said, his tone almost taunting, “you might not like what you uncover.” The weight of his words hung heavy in the air as you exchanged a brief, tense glance with Caitlyn. Without another word, Ambessa turned and walked toward the cell door, her presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Caitlyn followed, her hand lingering on her holstered weapon as if still on edge. You stayed behind for a moment longer, your gaze locked with Reveck’s, searching for something in his unflinching expression—a hint of truth, or maybe just an answer you weren’t ready to face.

You stepped out of the cell, the cold air biting against your skin. The echo of Ambessa’s commanding words and Reveck’s cryptic warnings swirled in your head, mixing with Caitlyn’s sharp presence. Every step away from the cell felt heavier, the pressure of what you’d just witnessed settling into the pit of your stomach. Reveck’s words wouldn’t leave you. “You think you’re hunting it, but it’s already closer than you realize.” They repeated in your mind like a haunting refrain, twisting your thoughts into knots. What did he mean? And why did it feel like there was more truth in his taunts than anyone cared to admit? The sterile prison corridor seemed darker now, its shadows crawling up the walls like something alive. A prickle of unease traced up your spine. For a moment, you paused, glancing back at the dim outline of the cell. It felt as though something—or someone—was watching. The air was too quiet, heavy with an unsaid warning. You shook your head and looked down, trying to steady your breaths, but your heart stopped cold. There, lying on the cold, stone floor just ahead of you, was a strand of blue hair. It glimmered faintly in the pale light, its color unmistakable. Powder. Your knees threatened to buckle, but you forced yourself to stay upright. A rush of memories flooded back—her laughter, her wide, curious eyes, the promises you made to her and Vi. And then the explosion, the chaos, and everything that came after. Your breathing quickened as you knelt down and gingerly picked up the strand, its texture soft but alien, almost too delicate for something so steeped in blood and tragedy. How did it get here? And why now?

The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly before you, the walls pressing in tighter. Your pulse thundered in your ears as a hundred questions screamed in your mind, all vying for answers. But one thought rose above them all, clear and sharp as a knife:

She was here.

And if she was here, then what had you missed? What was waiting just beyond the next shadow? You clutched the strand tighter, a knot of fear and determination tightening in your chest. You couldn’t let this go. Not now. Not after everything. With trembling hands and racing thoughts, you turned and walked toward the exit, but every step away from that cell felt like stepping deeper into the unknown.

You pulled your coat tighter around you, the cool night air biting at your skin. Your feet moved again, this time carrying you toward Zaun. If there was even the faintest chance she was there, you had to follow it. Whether you were ready or not, the path ahead was clear. You had to find her. And this time, you couldn’t fail. You had been at it for hours—no, days—piecing together fragments of evidence that felt more like whispers in the dark. Each lead took you deeper into Zaun’s underbelly: a blood trail smeared across cracked pavement, scorch marks that didn’t belong, and the eerie testimonies of those too afraid to say much at all. The closer you got, the more everything started pointing to one place. You’d seen the tunnel marked on old maps of Zaun—a forgotten artery deep within the district, barely mentioned anymore except in hushed tones. Something had happened there, something people were afraid to talk about. Standing at its mouth now, you could feel the weight of the place pressing on you like a physical force. The green chemfog swirled thickly, the heavy air carrying a stench of rust, decay, and something faintly metallic. It was quiet, unnervingly so, the usual hum of Zaun’s machinery conspicuously absent. You stepped forward cautiously, every instinct screaming at you to turn back. But the faintest trace of blood along the ground caught your attention, leading you further in. Whatever had been here—or was still here—wasn’t human. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just a hunt for a monster. This was something personal, a shadow from your past reaching out to drag you back. As you stood at the edge of the tunnel, Dr. Reveck’s voice echoed in your mind, his words heavy with warning.

“You think you’re hunting it, but it’s already closer than you realize.”

The memory of his cold, detached tone sent a shiver down your spine. You tried to brush it off, focus on the task at hand. But it wasn’t easy. There was something about the way he’d looked at you, almost pitying, that gnawed at your resolve.

“You might not like what you uncover.”

The blood trail led further into the shadows, growing thicker, fresher. Each step you took seemed to confirm the truth of his cryptic warning. This wasn’t just a trail—it was a trap, a path carved by something that knew you’d follow. Despite yourself, fear clawed at the edges of your mind. You gripped your weapon tightly, the sound of your own breathing loud in the suffocating silence. If Dr. Reveck was right, if it was closer than you realized, then maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t the beast you were hunting anymore. Your heart pounded in your chest as you ventured deeper into the tunnel, every nerve on edge. The oppressive darkness seemed alive, pressing down on you as if the walls themselves wanted to swallow you whole. Then, breaking through the suffocating silence, you heard it—a voice. A familiar cry echoed through the hollow passage, carrying a name you hadn’t heard in years.

“Powder.”

Your breath hitched, and without thinking, your feet carried you toward the sound. The cry was raw, desperate, and unmistakable. It clawed at the memories you’d buried deep—days spent in the smog-filled streets of Zaun, promises whispered in the dead of night. You turned a corner, and there they were. The sight stopped you cold. Vi was locked in a brutal struggle, her movements sharp and relentless as she fought the towering monstrosity before her. Jinx—no, Powder—was nearby, her chaotic energy radiating even in the chaos, her laughter twisted with something between joy and pain. The beast, its hulking form both animal and something far worse, loomed over them. You stood frozen for a moment, unable to reconcile the scene before you. The two sisters you had sworn to protect were here, together again, fighting a nightmare brought to life. This wasn’t just a fight—it was their fight. But as the beast’s roar shook the walls of the tunnel, you knew you couldn’t just stand there. Not this time. You swung your electro-baton again, sending a crack of electricity through the beast’s thick hide. It staggered back, growling low, but you were ready to strike again. Then, a voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like ages cut through the chaos, sharp and frantic.

“Y/N?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned, breath catching. There, standing in front of you with wide, shocked eyes, was Jinx. But it wasn’t just her surprise that caught your attention—it was the frantic energy radiating from her as her gaze flickered between you and the monster. Before you could even process the situation, Vi’s voice rang out, filled with desperation. “Get out of the way!” she yelled, her eyes locking onto the beast just as it made a move in your direction. The words barely registered before you heard the guttural growl of the creature, its monstrous form lunging toward you, faster than you could react. Your instincts kicked in just in time as you dove to the side, pushing Jinx out of the way and out of the path of the beast. In the chaos of the moment, you felt a sharp pang in your chest—Jinx’s face, twisted with a mixture of fear and resolve, flashed in your mind for just a second. She wasn’t ready to lose him again. But the situation was slipping further from control, and you couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Before you could strike, a hand shot out, gripping your arm with surprising strength. You whirled around, heart pounding, only to find Powder standing there. Her eyes were wide, frantic, pleading. “Stop!” she cried, her voice desperate, barely above a whisper. But it was enough to freeze you in place, your pulse hammering in your ears. The world seemed to slow as Powder’s frantic cry echoed in your mind.

“It’s Vander.”

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The name hung in the air, shattering everything you thought you knew. Your heart pounded against your ribs, memories of Vander flooding your mind—his hands, strong yet tender, holding you close during the darkest times. His laugh, the warmth he exuded when the world around you seemed so cold. He had been your everything. You had loved him with every fiber of your being. But this thing, this beast, it was not the man you had known. This creature, with its bloodshot eyes and twisted form, was not Vander. It couldn’t be. Your hands shook as you tightened your grip on the electro-baton, but it felt wrong—so wrong. The memories of him, so vivid and painful, clashed with the grotesque beast standing before you. You felt sick to your stomach, a wave of guilt crashing over you. You had failed him. Failed to save him. And now, you couldn’t even bring yourself to end the nightmare he had become. Your breath hitched as Powder stepped forward, desperation in her voice. “Please, Y/N, stop. I know it’s him. I can feel him in there. I won’t let you hurt him again.” Her words were a plea, a fragile hope in the storm. But your heart twisted with doubt. You could still hear the screams, the way the beast had ravaged everything in its path. And yet… something in Powder’s eyes, something in her raw desperation, made you falter.

The beast—Vander—lurched forward, its eyes locking onto you with an intensity that nearly paralyzed you. Every memory you had ever shared with him felt like it was being ripped from your chest.“Vander,” you whispered, the word slipping from your lips before you could stop it. The weight of it crushed you. You had spent so many years believing that Vander was lost, that the man you loved was gone. But here he was, in some twisted form, and it was as if everything you had been through had led you to this moment. Powder’s voice trembled as she pleaded once more. “Please, Y/N. Trust me. It’s him. Don’t hurt him. He’s still in there.” The battle inside you was unbearable. Every part of you screamed to fight, to destroy the beast before it could hurt anyone else. But Powder’s face—the vulnerability, the fear—held you in place. Your heart ached for her, for the girl who had once been Powder, the girl who had believed so deeply in the man who had been Vander. And for a long moment, you did nothing. Your body, your mind, were paralyzed by the weight of it all.

You wanted to believe her, wanted to believe that Vander was still there somewhere beneath that monstrous exterior. You swallowed hard, the tears threatening to break free. Slowly, shakily, you lowered the electro-baton, letting it fall to your side. It felt like an eternity, the weight of the decision heavier than any battle you had ever fought. The beast—Vander—let out a low growl, and for a split second, it seemed to hesitate, its glowing eyes softening. And then, before you could process what was happening, it lunged. In a split-second, you shoved Vi out of the way, your body reacting faster than your mind could follow. You felt the beast’s claws rake across your shoulder, pain searing through your skin. The world blurred for a moment, your vision flickering as you stumbled backward, feeling weaker by the second. And then, amidst the chaos, the word tore from your chest.

“Vander…”

The sound of his name was a raw, guttural cry, one that echoed through the tunnels, through your soul. The pain hit you harder than any wound could. Vander, that name, those memories—they tore you apart. You had vowed to protect Vi and Powder, to keep them safe from the horrors of the world, yet here you stood, helpless. The love you had for him, for both of them, never faded. But now? Now you wondered if you'd failed them all. Could you ever undo the damage, or was it too late to save any of them? This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be this. But here he was, and you couldn’t turn away. Not now. Not after everything.

As the beast—the twisted, monstrous form of Vander—pins you to the ground, his massive claw digs into your shoulder, a searing pain that nearly overwhelms you. Your body is trembling, pinned beneath his weight, but you find the strength to cry out. “Vander!” The word escapes your lips like a prayer, a cry full of pain, longing, and grief. For a fleeting moment, the ferocity in his bloodshot eyes falters. There’s a flicker of something, a split-second recognition that makes your heart ache with hope, even as your breath hitches in terror. The claws dig deeper, and for a second, you wonder if it’s all over. The beast’s heavy breaths rattle through your chest, but you can’t stop. This has to be the moment. This has to reach him. With what strength you have left, you lift your free hand and place it gently on his massive claw, the very one that could end your life. You speak the words that have haunted your thoughts, words full of both love and desperate sorrow, knowing they might be the last you ever speak to him.

“It’s me... your sunshine.”

The words hang in the air, fragile and raw, and for a heartbeat, time seems to stop. The beast’s gaze flickers—just for a moment—as if the sound of your voice stirs something deep within him. There’s a trembling hesitation in his claw, as if he’s hearing something buried beneath the rage and the pain, something that reminds him of who he was. In the chaos of your heart, you realize your words are more than a plea. They’re a lifeline thrown into a sea of darkness, hoping that some part of Vander will catch it. For a heartbeat, you feel the world shift, the crushing weight of the beast’s form loosening as something human flickers in the depths of his eyes. His growls soften, his body stills, as if struggling against the flood of memories. Then, as if through a fog, his voice—gravelly, strained, broken—rumbles from the depths of his throat, just a whisper but heavy with a history that neither of you could erase.

“Y/N…?”

The name feels like a weight lifted off your chest, like the first breath after drowning. His voice is there, faint, but real. Vander is still in there. You can feel it—the man you loved, the one who had promised to always protect you, the one who had once held you close during the darkest nights, is right here in front of you. Tears blur your vision, and your body trembles, caught between the raw pain, the disbelief, and a flood of emotions you never thought you’d face again. With a trembling breath, you whisper, “It’s me, Vander… it’s your Y/N…” In that moment, his once ferocious red eyes flicker. A slow shift begins, and your heart seizes in your chest as you see something break through the fog—a glimmer of blue and green cutting through the fire. For a single, fleeting second, you see Vander there, in his eyes. The man you loved. The protector who had once carried you through the worst storms. It’s real. He’s still in there. The grip around you tightens, not with violence, but with a deep, consuming desperation. His body trembles with something far greater than rage—something more human. His chest releases a low, guttural breath, the growl that once shook the air now softened, trembling with the weight of all that he has become, all he’s lost.

He’s no longer the man you remember, not entirely. But he’s not the beast either. No longer fully consumed by it. It’s somewhere in between, and in that space, you cling to him like you’ve never clung to anything before. You feel his hands, so monstrous and terrifying in their size, holding you close— holding you. He pulls you in with a desperation that makes your chest ache, his form trembling as if he’s afraid you might slip away again, as if this might all vanish in an instant. The sheer weight of him, the warmth of his touch, releases everything you’ve buried deep inside—the fear, the questions, the pain, the grief. Every memory of him, of what you lost, surfaces and consumes you. Your sobs come, raw and uncontrollable. The sound fills the air between you, as you let go of everything you’ve carried alone all this time. And in the grip of this agony, in the midst of your sobbing breaths, you feel Vander—the man who once loved you—is still fighting to hold onto you, still fighting to be the protector he once was. His arms, still massive, still deadly, are now filled with tenderness. He doesn’t need to speak, not yet. His embrace says everything. He’s still here, he’s still fighting, and he hasn’t forgotten you. In that moment, you realize that the beast, the rage, the monstrous form—none of it can take away who he was, who he still is to you. Tears blur your vision even more, but you no longer try to stop them. You let them fall freely, because in the midst of the devastation, the pain, and the years you spent wondering if this day would ever come, you know— he’s here. Not just in body, but in soul. And you’ll hold on to him, no matter what form he takes. You’ll fight for him, just as he fought for you.

As Vander’s gaze shifts toward Powder and Vi, his monstrous form trembles slightly, and the flicker of recognition in his eyes softens further. Despite the beast he has become, there's a tenderness in the way he moves, his massive arm opening wide, offering a place for them to find solace in his embrace. The look in their eyes is a mix of agony and hope, the weight of everything they've endured written across their faces. It’s clear they’re torn between fear of what he’s become and the desire to believe that the father they once knew is still inside.

Without a word, you reach out, your voice quiet but full of emotion.

“Go to him. He’s still your father. He’s still here with us.”

The words are simple, but they carry the weight of years of grief, the ache of a lost family and the hope of its fragile restoration. Powder’s eyes fill with tears, and Vi, standing beside her, slowly steps forward. The two of them move together, drawn toward Vander’s open arms, like a long-buried longing finally being met. They collapse into his embrace, and the world around you seems to pause. Vander, in his monstrous form, holds them close, his massive arms gentle yet desperate, as though he’s afraid they might disappear if he holds them too loosely. The pain, the fear, all of it melts away in this moment, replaced by something simple—love. He’s still their father, still the protector who had raised them. Even now, with all the darkness and the destruction surrounding them, Vander is here, alive, and for this moment, whole.

And you stand back, watching them hold each other. The tears in your own eyes sting as you witness the reunion, knowing that, despite everything, the heart of the man you loved is still present. He is their father— your Vander—and for that, you are thankful.

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darlingsblackbook · 2 days ago

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That time when you betray him

"Y/n?"

I froze at the sound of his voice. A chill ran through me whole body at the realization that I had screwed up. Completely and utterly screwed up.

My body felt as if concrete had been poured all over it, I could not bring myself to physically move-as if I could make myself invisible by staying still.

"What are you doing?" He asked, but I had a feeling he already knew. He knew. I screwed up and now he knew. I could feel it in his voice, the slight- barely noticable- tremble, the tone that held the tiniest bit of hope- hope that it might not be what it looks like-

The hope that I had not just betrayed him.

Betrayed us.

"You're killing me with this silence, sweetheart." He joked even though his voice held no humour, it was just the way he dealt with things. He had told me that himself one night. "Come on, we have to go back."

Still, I stayed silent. There had never been a moment in my life where I just wanted to disappear- so badly. The silence that enveloped us was so painfully loud.

"I can't go with you." I spoke up for the first time.

He chuckled humourlessly, "Come on, don't be silly."

I gulped, took a deep breath and forced myself to move. I forced myself to turn around and see the devastation that I knew I had caused. I knew this day would come, of course, I did. From the moment I accepted this mission- I knew. What I had not anticipated was that I would end up falling for him myself. I am so stupid.

Our eyes met.

He did not say it out loud. But his eyes were begging me. Please, tell me I am wrong, tell me this is all a misunderstanding. Tell me how much you love me and want to be by my side. Tell me it is not what it looks like!

It was never supposed to go this far. I was never supposed to get this close. I told myself it was fine, that I am a grown woman and can control my emotions. If only I could go back in time and warn my past self to not get attached. Then maybe I would not feel the resentfulness for myself and my deeds that I did now- not because I regret the mission but the regret of the pain that I caused him.

"This is were we part ways." I told him softly, holding his gaze. His eyes dropped to the object in my hands, and I could feel his heart drop- he knew just how important- dangerous - it could be if it fell into the wrong hands but he trusted me, so told me the location.

He knew-thought he could trust me, I slept beside him at night and ate at the same dinner table as him. He trusted me even though he never trust easily, even though he had blocked off the entry to his heart because of past betrayals- he had let me in.

Because I was his y/n.

His y/n would never betray him.

"All this time...?" He trailed off, pursing his lips, eyes still locked onto the object in my hand. "Wow, you actually had me fooled, you know? This is really embarassing."

I steeled myself, knowing that no matter how much I wanted to, I could not change what has been done. I have already lost him, I could only complete my mission now. Do what I had been sent here for.

"Don't be." I said. "You did not know any better."

Reblog and pick up where I left off with a character of your own choice!

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burrowdarling · 2 days ago

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Take It Easy

Summary: With everything that's gone on this season, you decided Joe deserved some much needed time away.

Pairings: Joe Burrow x gf!reader

Warnings: implied smut minors DNI

Note: Hi! I was finally able to get around to the request from this anon. I hope you enjoy it! Some good ole bye-week comfort with some steam.

Word Count: 2k

Check out my Masterlist here!

It had taken quite a fair bit of convincing, but you were all packed up heading a few hours away to a cabin with a couple other guys from the team and their significant others. Joe was beside you in the driver's seat, making you passenger with Sam and Jess passed out in the back. Evan and Gracie were in another car about 15 minutes ahead. Your trunk was filled with all of the supplies you could possibly need for the weekend with a few more hours on the road ahead of you.

After how you’d seen Joe beat himself up this past week, you knew you had to do something to take his mind off of things. A trip like this has been something you’d wanted to do for a bit, but the bye week felt like the right time to get everyone rest for the remainder of the season. Joe was reluctant at first, still heading to the facility at the start of the bye week, head strong and adamant that he needed to be doing everything he could to get the team in shape. You’d had to talk him through things, getting him to understand that his body needed a break and having a few of the guys could help him to talk to other people who would get it. He’d only agreed to a few days, but you still took that as a win in your book.

You knew he was trying so hard, carrying so much weight of the team on his shoulders. It was a burden he could only hold alone for so long before it did him in. Joe didn’t relax much during any typical season, but this felt like a special exception to his strict routine. You were trying to drill into him that rest was just as productive and all of the other components he prides himself on.

Joe was lightly drumming along to the beat of the song softly playing from the speakers, your music left on shuffle from earlier in the drive. You were excited to get away with everyone, knowing the guys needed a break during the bye week and what better way to spend it than up in mountains unplugged for a few days. His right hand found its way to your thigh, light stroking you out of your thoughts.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Joe asked, glancing in your direction. He looked so soft like this, wearing a hoodie and sweats with his hair down. His expression was calm, any signs of stress that had been showing on his face weren’t currently evident. You hadn't gotten to see him like this much recently, taking him in while you had the chance.

“I was just thinking about how nice this trip is going to be. I’m really glad you agreed to go, I wanted to be able to do something nice for you and figured this was a perfect time to go”.

Joe sighed, humming constantly as his hand gently squeezed your thigh three times. It was a signal you both can come up with during your early days of dating, a nonverbal way to say ‘I love you’ and a simple reminder you were there for that person. The gesture brought a small smile to your face.

“I’m glad we invited some of the guys, but I can’t wait until I can get you alone” Joe spoke, keeping his voice low in case anyone had woken up. His voice held a rasp and desire that would cause you to fold right there in any other circumstance.

You felt Joe's hand begin to climb your thigh, sliding closure to the apex of your thighs. You placed your hand on top of his, applying a bit of pressure to halt his movements.

“Slow your roll cowboy, we're not even there yet” you spoke chuckling.

“Cowboy? I’d gladly save a horse and let you ride me any day” Joe said with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. He looked over at you, tipping his nonexistent hat to really seal the deal. You couldn’t help, but laugh at his antics. Joe

You lightly patted him on the shoulder, rolling your eyes in his direction with a smile on your face “yeah, yeah focus on the road so we get there in one piece”.

“Yes ma’am” he said with a short nod, turning his attention back to the road ahead.

By the time you had arrived, it had gotten late and you all were ready to get everything in and turn in for the night. You tried to do everything as efficiently as possible, creating a system of the guys bringing everything while you and the girls got it all sorted out inside. Once the last thing was brought in, the guys began to explore the place you had booked. You tried to keep as much of it as a surprise for Joe as you could, keeping the details limited.

The cabin itself was nice, a cozy feel hitting you immediately. There were plenty of bedrooms for everyone, a pool table in the living room, finished with a fireplace. There would be plenty of room in the kitchen to cook for the weekend, opting to stay in as much as possible to really unwind. Downstairs there was a small room that led out to a patio hosting a hot tub, the main thing that had really sold you on this place specifically. You could tell by the vibe it was going to be a nice few days getaway with each other even if you weren’t completely alone.

You and the girls got to cooking, the guys finding enjoyment out of the pool table. You could feel yourself getting lost in your thoughts again as your eyes fell on Joe, leaning against the table laughing and joking around with his friends. When it was his turn to play, he bent over and steadied the pool stick expertly between his fingers. Joe’s hands were always something that you had found attractive and this instance was no exception. You knew exactly what those hands were capable of, causing a shiver of desire to run down your spine. The look of focus on his face completed the narrative you were writing in your mind, making your thoughts not so innocent.

You were snapped out of it by a bump to the hip by Gracie, coming back into the moment and food you were preparing in front of you. A knowing look had crossed her face followed by a wink as she went back to what she was doing.

“It’s good to see him with a smile on his face again” Jess said, you nodded in agreement. Joe’s happiness was contagious, leaving you to finish your cooking with a wide smile on your face.

Everyone finished up dinner, deciding to head to bed and be ready for the day ahead.

“I really wanna go enjoy that hot tub before bed, we had such a long drive and it’d be nice to unwind just the two of us”

“I’d like that, I also brought that one suit you really like” you said with a mischievous grin plastered across your face and you made your way down the hall to your room.

“The red one?” Joe called after you, sounding eager.

“You’ll just have to wait and see Burrow” you said, tossing his suit out and closing the door behind you.

By the time you made your way down to the hot tub, Joe was already there getting everything set. You stepped out onto the patio, the sounds of the door closing alerting Joe to your presence. Joe let out a low whistle at the sight of you, letting his eyes rake up and down your barely covered body.

“You’re absolutely breathtaking sweetheart” Joe said, extending his hand to help you get into the hot tub.

“Thank you babe, you know I had to bring your favorite” you told him, stepping into the hot tub and letting out a moan at the sensation of hot water and got comfortable.

Joe got in after, settling on the opposite side of the tub and letting his shoulders drop at the feeling of hot water relaxing the tension in his muscles. He let his eyes close, fully submitting himself to relaxation, a groan escaping his lips. The sounds he was making had you clenching your thighs together, still feeling worked up from earlier. You loved seeing Joe when he got worked up, but you also loved these moments when he was able to be unguarded with you.

“C’mere, I feel like you’re so far away from me” Joe said, lifting his arms out of the water to gesture you over.

You swam over next to him, gently pushing his shoulders to turn him to the side and settled your hands onto his shoulders. You began massaging his muscles, leaving tender kisses across the top of his back, hearing the soft sigh escape his lips.

“I know I don’t tell you enough, but I appreciate all that you do for me. You're my biggest supporter in my corner and I want you to know how loved you are. I know I don’t always show it ” Joe said quietly.

“Of course Joey, loving you is the easiest thing I have ever done. Watching you get to do what you love for a living every week is one of my favorite things. You go out on that field and put your entire soul into it. I know you’re doing everything you can Joey and I know everything will work out eventually” you said, hoping he would take on some of the confidence in your words.

Joe wordlessly spun you around to face him, lifting you onto his lap. His hands fell to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze while your arms settled around his neck, your lips connecting in a passionate kiss.

“I really don’t know what I'd do without you sweetheart. You’re my rock, my safe place, there’s no one else I’d rather come home to every night” Joe said, his lips finding your neck trailing kisses down to your collarbone.

“I’m right there with you, Joey, you have no idea” your words trailing off as he continued his assault with his mouth, biting and sucking your throat to the possibility of leaving marks.

He used the leverage to ground you into his lap, feeling his growing erection beneath you. A gasp caught in your throat, Joe taking the opportunity to let his tongue find its way into your mouth, fighting for dominance.

“That feel good, baby? I want you to feel just what you do to me "Joe groaned out, eliciting a whimper from you.

This was the sweet friction you’d been craving from him all night, letting your head fall back as pleasure overtook you. This only spurred Joe on more, watching how he was able to make you feel as good as you were. Seeing you fall deeper into your desire only made Joe grind harder against your clothed center. It was getting harder and harder for him to control himself, his patience thinning. You brought your head back up, leaning in letting your lips ghosting over his ear as you spoke.

“I’ve been craving you all night Joey, i want you so badly” you lightly whined, nipping at his lobe.

Joe reacted as quick as he could, scooping you into his arms as he carried you out of the hot tub and into the house. You broke out into a fit of giggles at his movements, careful to keep your volume down for your housemates. The remainder of your night would be spent relaxing in a different way.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fanfic #joey burrow

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cherriesformatt · 3 days ago

Text

eyes || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt is making a tiktok with reader when she is with the animals from the petting zoo video

warnings: fluff

word count: 692

a/n: I know its been months but I thought about it and I mix some new content with the request. Hope thats okay. have a good week besties 🍒

based on this request

I was so excited that Matt let me hang out with the animals after they finished filming the video. Chris and Matt surprised Nick with petting zoo in the living room and I was on another planet when I found out. The lady brought the animals as we helped her and I was so happy that I didn't even care if I was on the video or not. For the main part of it I went and hang out upstairs because I still rather not want to be the main attraction of it. When I was reading my book I was just waiting for the text from Matt that I could come back down because they finished filming. And when I got it I almost jumped out of bed. I was mostly excited to hang out with the goat and the little hedgehog.

"What did you think?" I asked Nick with a big grin as I kneeled to pet the goat.

"I am never leaving the house again" Nick answered me and I laughed.

"They all are the cutest" I said in the baby voice as I walk to Chris.

"May I hold him now?" I asked him for a turn with the hedgehog.

"Of course" Chris nodded and carefully handed me the animal.

I held him and talked to him as my eyed were focused on the animal all the time. I was tickling his belly as I was smiling and talking to it as I would talk to the baby. I wasn't aware of Matt filming me.

After we said goodbye to all the animals and cleans the house as we could I helped Matt cleaning his room a bit.

"We need to hire people to professionally clean the hose because I swear I still smell the barn" He said as he came back to his room in only a towel. We took turns in taking a shower after we were done with the animals.

"Yes, I usually would say you're being dramatic but now I actually smell it too" I said putting clothes back to his closet.

"Thank you, you shouldn't do that I would clean it myself" Matt said while putting clean underwear on.

"Well I didn't have space on the bed so I had to do something" I laughed and handed him pair of pajama pants.

He laughed while he took them from me. After he put them on he wrapped his arms around me and kissed my temple.

"You're the best...Sorry it was such a mess here buy I just had to throw everything from the living room" He said as he tugged string of my hair behind my ear.

"It's fine I do not care" I said looking up at him.

"Oh I know you do" He smirked.

"You right...."I said and he leaned down and gave me a sweet kiss.

He knew I had a bit of a thing if it comes to having a clean space.

"Wanna watch something?" He asked as he moved away and he went to put a shirt on.

I nodded and climbed in bed. I found the remote and put on the tv.

"I will grab some snacks and water" He said and left the room.

As I was waiting for him to come back I checked my phone. I had so many TikTok notifications. I was bit surprised when I checked and saw that Matt tagged me in a video.

It was him looking at something with a big smile and then camera switched and there was I with the animals. It was a very cute video I smiled and licked it and commended with a heart. People were being very nice in the comments so I did answered some comments and when he came back I smiled at him.

"You posted me on TikTok" I said.

"I did...Sorry I did not asked you, is that okay?" He climbed next to me.

"It's fine I like it... love you Matt" I said and kissed his cheek.

"Love you too y/n" he smiled putting a blanked on us.

Could not imagine this day to be more perfect.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt x reader #matt sturniolo blurb

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bloggerspam · 3 days ago

Text

Steph's new year resolution is to spend actual time with Val.

First step: Val's phone number.

Asking Jason will be a bust. He's Val's boss, a good one, so Steph won't even bother asking when she knows he won't divulge employee information like that.

That leaves asking Val herself, or passing a note along with Jason.

She trusts Jason, she does. He's leagues better than if Steph were to ask Dick, or even Tim.

She'd rather get made fun of, in that loving way Jason does, than be smothered and inundated with questions and screams the way Dick and Tim do.

But Jason is a good boss, and Steph's grown up with too many Bats to know what the normal boundary is between employee and employer.

So, obviously, she stalks Jason at work in her free time to see if Val works any of those shifts to ask her herself.

She hits money on the third day.

"Val!" Steph saunters over with a wide smile. "I haven't seen you since Riddler took you away."

"Hey, Steph." Val looks so cute when she's flustered, "Yeah, sorry about that."

Val's working on a car, in that delicious coverall grease monkey look, doing a simple oil change. Steph perches herself delicately on the side, so as to not be in the way.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Steph pouts, "It's dangerous to go towards the Rogues, you know."

"Oh, well…" Val laughs nervously, smudging more grease when she rubs at the back of her neck "Y'know, Amity Parkers are just built different I guess."

"I have no doubt that you…handled yourself just fine," Steph placates, leaning forward a bit to run a finger down Val's well muscled biceps, "but I would feel so much better if you played by Gotham rules…"

Val does that nervous little laugh again, breathy, and gods does Steph want to ruin her.

"I can try," Val bites her lip, "But with friends like Danny…"

Steph giggles. "He's a trouble magnet huh?"

"You have no idea." Val smiles helplessly, and they get caught like that for a long moment.

Val's eyes skip back and forth between hers, even flicking to Steph's lips for a scant second, making Steph's heart skip a million beats.

But then Val coughs, breaking eye contact to reach under the hood to do…something. Steph's too busy mourning the death of a moment to really figure it out.

But Steph is nothing if not persistent.

"So, hey, speaking of friends…" Steph clears her throat, "You go to Gotham U, right?"

"Yeah," Val confirms, flicking a glance over at her as she shuts the car hood, "Early education major."

Steph pauses. Because what are the chances? "No way."

Val hunches her shoulders up, "I know, doesn't really suit me but—"

"No!" Steph frantically interrupts, "That's not what I meant, it's just, I'm a human development major!"

Val stares at her, uncomprehending, which is fair. Steph smiles helplessly as she explains, "I want to be an special education teacher, for teens with learning disabilities."

Val blinks. "…How have we not seen each other on campus?"

"I have a night job, so I take a lot of my classes online." Steph explains, "The ones I do have to go in person for are late afternoon classes, usually Wednesdays."

"Ah." Val nods in understanding, "I take mostly morning classes, and afternoon shifts here at the shop."

"Like ships in the night," Steph smiles ruefully, "Or bikes in the afternoon, I guess."

Val laughs, voice a yummy timbre that brings a little shiver down her spine. There's a rasp to her, and her accent makes everything sound so much nicer.

"That means this will work out." Steph gets them back on track, feeling all sorts of nervous.

"What will?" Val wipes her hands on a rag, tossing it over her shoulder as she leans on the car next to her.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to study together some time," Steph bats her eyelashes, "With my schedule being the way it is, it's kind of hard for me to make friends…"

"S-sure, yeah, sounds great." Val stutters, patting her pockets for her phone, only to realize she's in her coveralls. "Ah…"

"Just dictate it to me, and I'll text you so you'll have mine." Steph giggles, pulling out her phone and creating the new contact as Val gives her the info.

"And hey, maybe we could spar some too," Steph eyes Val's biceps, remembering the little brawl she and Danny had and licking her lips, "It's one of my new years resolutions to keep fit."

"I'm not an easy opponent y'know." Val smirks, looking Steph up and down and sparking shivers with her gaze.

"Trust me," Steph mutters as she sends of a winky face text, "I know."

(Val, without Steph's knowledge, doesn't realize it's flirting flirting.

She just thinks it's Steph's personality, being flirty with the winky face.

Sam bangs her head on her desk when Val texts her so.)

===

Danny is visiting on Valentines Day, in protest to the holiday itself.

Danny's always kind of hated holidays in general, now that Val thinks about it.

Tucker says it's leftover trauma from the school bullying, Sam says it's because his parents are assholes about them. Val just thinks Danny hates capitalism.

It could be all of the above, honestly.

The point is, it's Valentine's Day and Danny has just texted her that he's on his way to Gotham to hang out with her, and Val's not sure if this means Jay's done something wrong or not.

Val has been talking to her friends on almost a daily basis, but Danny's been tight-lipped about his friendship with Jay.

After Christmas Break, after the phone number exchange, Team "Get that D in Danny" thought it was a done deal.

Jay was a straight forward kind of guy, and Danny's never been shy about flirting.

Surely, something should have happened, right?

But Val wasn't really present when Danny and Sam were sort of dating, and Val was in the relationship with Danny, so she doesn't actually know how Danny is when he's dating someone.

She's been taking her cues from Tucker, who says that Danny isn't really the "my girlfriend/boyfriend" type. Danny's always referred to Sam and Val, in their respective relationships, by their names.

But then again, everyone in Amity Park knew each other, and ghosts hardly ever care about such mortal statuses. (Ignoring Johnny and Kitty, whose whole shtick is their relationship. That's a whole different can of worms.)

The point is, Val is suffering. Team "Get that D in Danny" is suffering.

And she needs to know if she has to beat up her boss for Danny or not.

Jay's been Fort Knox about the whole thing too, and it's getting irritating.

"Danny's coming to pick me up." Val finally says at the end of her shift, glaring up at her boss. "What did you do?"

Jay, wide eyed and covered in grease, drops the washer fluid in his hands on his (thankfully) steel-toed boot.

"Danny's what—" Jay lunges for his jacket, draped over his workstation, frantically pulling up his phone and— "I gotta go."

She then watches her boss, resident Crime Lord, Billionaire baby Jason Peters Todd-Wayne, book it to the back rooms.

What the fuck?

Ten minutes later, Jay comes back out, freshly showered and in clean, fitted clothes. He's even got a red rose from…somewhere.

Val reiterates: What the fuck?

"Danny hates red roses." Val says, confusion laced through her entire fucking being. They look too much like blood blossoms for any of the Amity Parkers to have any sort of affection for the flower. "He doesn't like red flowers in general."

Jay immediately tosses it into a nearby oil catch tray, looking like he might even set it on fire, if he could just find a match…

"Okay, seriously," Val puts her hands on her hips, "What the fuck is going on? Was that an apology rose?"

"What?" Jay whips his head towards her, "No!"

"Gods," Val throws her hands up in exasperation, "Are y'all dating or what? Danny's been weirdly adamant y'all are just hangin' out but I see you in here, moonin' and what not."

Her accent is getting worse in her agitation and she really hates it, which turns into a vicious cycle.

"We're not dating." Jay finally admits, sitting heavily down on one of the stools by his workstation. "But I am wooing him."

There's a long beat of silence.

"Pardon?" Val's voice is flat, disbelieving. "You're what?"

"Wooing." Jason juts his chin out, "We've done a couple of face time hang outs, streamed movies together and stuff. But it just never seemed the right time to ask him for a visit, or for me to go visit him."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Val tries to soften her voice. Red Hood, resident crime lord and bad ass, is a romantic. Huh.

"I wanted to ask him in person." Jay mumbles, "Important stuff's for in person conversations."

"In this day and age?" Val asks unthinkingly. "I doubt Danny would care."

They both know he'd probably say yes.

"Yeah, but Danny's been…he's been looking into schools to transfer to," Jay looks down at his hands, "Didn't want to influence the choices."

Danny had come out to this parents about Phantom just last month. It was a development everyone was not only extremely thankful for, but still getting used to.

The Fentons, as expected, were fully supportive. They turned a dime, burned their research metaphorically and literally to 'start over from an unbigoted perspective.'

Jazz has been thoroughly enjoying the family therapy sessions.

Schedules were created, to lessen Danny's load, and better safety locks were made to mitigate the necessity of those patrols in the first place.

Overall, Danny's been sleeping more, less stressed, and happy as a clam, if a little embarrassed by his parent's smothering love and support.

Val had thought that maybe Jay was a big part of that too, romantically speaking. Clearly, she was only half right.

"Danny loves Gotham." Val starts, carefully picking her words. Because it's true, he loves it more than she does. "He likes how weird and crazy it is, and Gotham U's engineering program is one of the best in the nation."

It would have to be, with how often things need to be reconstructed around here.

"The pizza's great too," Danny's voice suddenly cuts in from behind her, "Not to mention the company."

Val twirls around, hearing the clatter of Jay jumping up suddenly and banging his hip on his worktable with a pained hiss.

"How long have you be standing there?" Jay squeaks as he rubs his hip, face burning.

"Not long, since Val said I love Gotham. Which I do." Danny tilts his head with a confused smile. "Why? Gossiping about me?"

"We were talking about your choices in transfer." Val quickly covers, as much fun as it would be to just call both of them out, Val's not that mean. "Didn't want to accidentally influence the choice or anythin', y'know."

"Last time I checked you were looking into Star City, right?" Jay quickly adds, shooting Val a grateful look.

"Yep." Danny grins, popping the 'p' obnoxiously, "They've got a pretty comprehensive scholarship, but it's about the same as Gotham's, and honestly, Gotham's in my top two choices—"

"Gotham's a top choice?" Jay cuts in, confused but sounding a little…hopeful, "Nobody ever…I mean, even I know Gotham's crazy…"

"Gotham's a lot like Amity Park," Danny shrugs, before looking away with alarmingly red ears, "Just bigger, more goth. Plus, y'know, you and Val are here…not to mention the rogues here are way more fun than Amity's ghostly menagerie…"

"Are you sure you don't mean the vigilantes?" Val smirks, sensing an opportunity. "Or maybe a certain vigilante?"

"Mmm…nope." Danny feigns thinking hard about it. "I definitely meant the rogues."

"Uh huh…" Val drags out, "Nothing at all to do with your third place hall pass pick."

"Hall pass pick?" Hook, line, and sinker. Jay tilts his head. "What's that?"

"It's a list of celebrities monogamous couples will allow their significant other to sleep with and not count as cheating." Val innocently explains, gleefully watching Danny squirm. "It was mostly a joke, but me and Danny had one when we were dating."

"And heroes and vigilantes are basically celebrities," Jay follows the line of thought, before his eyes get a little gleam to them, "Which Bat does Danny have a celeb crush on?"

"No-one!" Danny hastily answers. Val wonders what Jay would do to his siblings if Danny did have a celeb crush on them.

"Red Hood." Val smiles with all her fucking pearly whites. "Danny likes bad boys."

Danny makes a noise like a tea kettle. "Don't judge me!!!"

To Val, Jay looks like he doesn't know whether to be flattered, or concerned.

To Danny, he must look thoroughly confused.

"Listen," Danny tries to explain himself, "Have you seen those thigh holsters???"

Jay chokes. Val laughs her fucking ass off.

(The three of them get pizza afterward.

Val missed her opportunity to leave them to it, and has to sit there and watch Jason stare at Danny making porno noises at how good the pizza is.

She texts Steph about how much she hates Valentine's Day because of it.

Until, of course, Steph joins in and she hates it a little less.)

===

Easter break, and Steph is bored out of her god damn mind.

She texts Cass first, then Babs, but one's in dance practice and the other's working a shift at the library.

Naturally, she texts Val next, sending over a selfie of her pouting and sad, with an appropriately dramatic lovelorn caption.

She gets back a picture of Sam, Tucker, and Danny fighting each other on a couch, controllers in hand with a glow reflecting against their faces in a dark, but massive looking room.

"Back home in the trenches," Steph reads aloud, sighing and lovesick.

They've been texting back and forth for the past month now, and honestly? Steph considers them dating.

The problem is, even when Steph says "it's a date!" Val just…doesn't seem to get it.

Steph would call it a straight girl move, if she didn't know 100% that Val at least thinks Steph's sexy af.

Or, at least, really wants to kiss her, if the way the other girl stares at Steph's lips is anything to go by.

And Val stares a lot.

But she always pulls back with a nervous laugh, as if Steph is the one rejecting her.

It's very frustrating, but Steph has learned that Val doesn't actually have a lot of experience with girls, so she might just be…shy.

But! At least they've been on study dates, and sparring dates, and one time they even got froyo!

Steph's been trying really hard to be patient.

It's not really working.

There's another ding! It's Cass, telling her to come over to Wayne Manor. The Batkids are having a sudden movie marathon.

She has a lot of fun with her family, watching terrible horror movies and throwing popcorn at all the stupid people doing stupid things. She sends Val a selfie of her cuddling up with Cass and Damian, of Dick and Jason dumping buckets of popcorn on each other, of Tim and Duke taking god damn notes.

It's even more fun when Val sends pictures back. Of Sam sitting on Tucker and Danny laughing so hard he's fallen off the sofa. There's a selfie of Val and Sam painting the boy's nails in bright neon green color, and a selfie of the group in matching ghost themed pajamas, what looks like Wallace and Gromit playing on the big screen behind them. A picture where Danny and Tucker are snoring, cuddling each other very intimately, with Sam in the background doing a little peace sign.

Steph's buried under Tim's legs and Dick's arms now, hardly able to send a selfie of her face with the way it's covered in limbs, but she manages it.

Val sends one back, in a darkened room where Sam is watching some movie next to the sleeping boys. Val's sleepy smile and half lidded gaze warms her up from the inside.

It's a great night, all in all.

She dreams of soft kisses, warm cuddles, and B grade horror movie kiss scenes with a smile on her face, she's sure of it.

(Steph wakes up to someone rudely tearing off the blanket she was sharing with Cass and loudly announcing it's breakfast.

She throws a pillow at Damian for it, who scoffs and dodges her 'paltry attempt.' Her head hurts from all the sugar she consumed last night, and there's an ache in her back from sleeping on the floor.

Val sent her a good morning text and rumpled selfie that features a soft smile, and Tucker two steps away from spilling pancakes all over Val.

Steph eats breakfast with such a wide smile, Duke asks if she won the lottery or something.)

===

It's looking to be a very hot summer in Gotham, if April is anything to go by.

Isn't April supposed to be full of showers? They had an abrupt chill last week due to Mr. Freeze, but since then it's been hot and Val is suffering.

But Danny has come 'round to visit, and it gives her the energy she needs to get through the day so she can hang out with them over the weekend. Danny's always run cold, and Val's never been shy of siphoning off that chill in the summertime.

Val didn't have a shift today, so Danny picked her up from school and they've decided that pancakes and waffles are in order.

It's 2pm on a Thursday, but that hardly even matters.

What matters is that Danny is wrong and waffles are clearly more superior than pancakes.

"You can throw pancakes like a frisbee, what are you even saying," Danny rolls his eyes as they cut through an alley to get the Denny's, "Waffles are way too crunchy."

"I want to look inside your head and see what delusion is playing 24/7," Val shoots back, "Why would a food need to be used as a frisbee to be superior, first of all, and second of all, the texture is not crunchy."

"The inside of my head is just like any other human," Danny scoffs, "It's been tested and everything. Plus, if you can't use your food item as a frisbee in order to quell the sausage rebellion, is it even worth having as food?"

Val squints her friend for a moment, even going so far as to pause her walking. Danny, after another moment, stops with her but does not meet her eyes.

She smacks the back of his head.

"Ow! What the fuck Val! Just because I'm right!"

"No joking about tests." Val growls, waiting until Danny shows the appropriate amount of regret, before swiftly getting back on topic, "Besides. Waffles are sturdier, and the shape can still be used as a frisbee against sausage rebellions."

Danny takes a breath for the admonishment, centering himself from bad memories. He thinks on her latter statement, nodding reluctantly. "Textures still shit though."

Val groans, continuing their way through the alley, "The texture is so that syrup has places to be, syrup on pancakes just slides off—"

"Hands up!" Just in front of them, a man is brandishing a knife in one hand, with the other reaching palm up, "Give me your wallets and nobody gets hurt."

Val internally scoffs, making eye contact with a gleeful Danny. He's been involved in more Rogue incidents than Val has, and he doesn't even live here.

"Aw, c'mon man," Danny simpers, hands in his pockets and shoulders scrunching up, "Can't you see we're just poor college students just trying to get to Denny's?"

"And you and your girl can go along your merry way," The mugger rasps, "after you give me your wallets. You can take the date home."

Val and Danny simultaneously make an uck sound.

"Been there," Danny grins, ruefully.

"Done that." Val rolls her eyes.

"Got the scars and everything to prove it!" Danny chirps, showing his lichtenberg scars even though they're irrelevant.

Val smacks him upside the head again, but Danny doesn't even flinch. Stupid halfa-biology.

"Just give me the money!" The mugger loses his patience, pulling out a gun. Ugh.

"And why don't you give me a break," A modulated voice says from above, before something large drops down and breaks the mugger's arm.

"Hah! Break, that's a good one." Danny laughs.

Red Hood freezes, before groaning with that modulated voice. "Nobody tell Nightwing. I'd never live it down."

Val bites her lip, wondering if Nightwing is Dick Grayson, the asshole cop who arrested her and Danny a couple months ago. Dude was not subtle in the interrogation of his sibling's new friends, and kept riffing with Danny using puns.

Val hates the guy on that principle alone, so it won't be hard.

"Lips are sealed, Bo—ahem—ig guy." Val really has to figure out the best time to let her boss know that she knows.

"Thanks for saving us, Red Hood, sir." Danny smiles at Hood, shy-like. "I didn't think we'd see you again after…"

"That thing with Riddler?" Even through the modulator is apparent Hood is smiling. "I thought you were finding trouble on purpose, but maybe trouble just likes to find you?"

Val's gotta hand it to him, Jay's a good actor. But as someone who knows who he is? It's clear that Hood is relishing the attention. Finding out your crime lord persona is a top choice must have outweighed the confusion of a crime lord persona being a top choice.

"Either way, it's no problem. Punks shouldn't be muggin' in my territory anyway." Hood peacocks his way into a casual leaning pose, and it's funny as all hell.

"Oh!" Danny looks around, "I didn't realize we were already in Crime Alley?"

"The one Denny's in Gotham is in Crime Alley," Val sighs, "I told you this."

"I thought we established that I don't listen to you." Danny retorts, "That's why we broke up."

"We broke up because of your clear preference for dick, Danny." Val drawls.

Hood chokes.

"This is bullying," Danny jokes, ears bright red from Val no doubt embarrassing him in front of his favorite vigilante, "And you have no leg to stand on, with the way you were drooling after Kate Winslet."

"Most of your hall pass picks were men," Val reminds him, and because she's nothing if not an opportunist, "Speaking of which—-what's it like to be texting one of them almost every day?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Danny sniffs, trying to pull Val through the alley, "Why do you keep bringing up my hall pass picks anyway?"

"Everyday?" Hood's voice, even modulated, sounds jealous. He's probably wondering if Danny's been texting the other top two choices above him.

"Yeah, everyday." Val confirms, much to Danny's dismay.

"Val!" Danny hisses as Hood leans a little closer. "Shut up."

Danny's probably thinking she might embarrass him by mentioning that Red Hood is Danny's third place pick. If only he knew.

"My boss is his fourth place pick." Val grins, as Danny slumps in relief. If only he knew!

She watches intently as Hood freezes, hand going to a pocket that isn't there, almost like he wants to immediately text someone. He seems to settle for a slow drawl, "S'that so. Small world. You work for a vigilante I know or something?"

Damn good actor, but not subtle enough for someone whose looking. He's definitely warring with a bunch of different emotions, and even through the helmet she can tell.

He wants to know why his civilian identity is fourth, when his crime lord persona is third.

"O-KAY!" Danny yells, pulling her more forcefully, "That's enough of oversharing with a crime lord who doesn't know us and clearly has other things to do. Thank you again Mr. Hood, big fan, love your work, the 8 heads was inspired really—"

Val cackles all the way through the alley, watching as Hood grapples away in a daze.

When they sit down at Denny's, Danny gets a text from Jay that makes him mumble into his menu.

"Why does he want to know my top two hall pass picks? I'm not even in a relationship!"

Val tosses a jam packet at his head.

(Steph texts her afterward, asking about Val's Hall Pass picks.

Val texts her no comment.

Somehow, Jay finds out, which leads to Danny finding out.

Danny texts Steph that Kate Winslet, Amanda Seyfried, and Black Canary were her top 3.

When Steph texts All Blondes, huh? Val lunges at Danny right there in the Denny's.

They get kicked out, and are summarily banned from the establishment.)

===

Gotham is muggy in May.

Steph hates how sticky it makes her skin feel, how lethargic her body gets, and most of all, she hates how her she stupidly made her Spoiler uniform have a lower face mask.

She's definitely going to get pimples, and it's going to suck.

The bright side is that she's best friends with not just one, but two Wayne kids.

This means that she can enjoy the Wayne Manor indoor pool with the other Batkids for most of the summer day until patrol time.

It's good to have connections.

She's relaxing with Babs and Tim on the lounge chairs, and whilst normally she would join in on the watergun fight the other batboys and Cass have going on, she's just too tired.

It's been a long first week of summer, especially with that Mad Hatter case she and Cass broke two days ago.

Mad Hatter cases always gave her the heebie jeebies, considering her own blonde hair and blue eyes.

So: chilling at the pool. Val comes back next week, with a bonus Danny in tow to start the process of finding an apartment for both of them to share, and Steph's not the only one excited about it.

Jason's been over the god damn moon.

Her phone buzzes with two incoming texts, but before Steph can even reach over to grab it, a loud thump! startles all vigilantes to whip up towards the sound.

Jason has tripped over a lounge chair, ass over kettle, groaning.

Amidst the laughter, Steph gets another buzz, so she checks her phone. It's two discord messages from Val.

valerino: Phantoms dog has invaded sams pool valerino: D's really excited about it 🙄

The last text is a photo of Danny, shirtless, getting absolutely slobbered on by a glowing green dog. Holy shit. Wait a second.

stephieeee: uhm???? green dog????? stephieeee: did u send this pic to Jason too? valerino: Yeah, long story short, hes a ghost dog. Hes cool though. And what? No, why? stephieeee: cuz he just ate shit tripping on a lounge chair stephieeee: right after u sent that pic valerino: Lol danny sent a selfie i think. We're taking a break from a water fight tucker started to play with cujo stephieeee: lolllllll stephieeee: that tracks stephieeee: we had a water gun fight too stephieeee: but i sat out with the girlies stephieeee: the heat is just stephieeee: Too Much valerino: Lol danny just showed me the pic he sent. Its a thirst trap, and he didnt even know valerino sent an image

The picture of of a shirtless Danny, with abs, holding up a see through, green dog. His arm muscles glisten in the lighting as he smiles a beaming smile, teeth white and gleaming, with his face smooshed up against the dog's stretchy, pudgy little face. It's adorable and all kind of rippling muscle-y. Boy is lean, mean, and looking good in his NASA swimming trunks, even to Steph.

stephieeee: OMGGGGG stephieeee: hes actually RIPPED??? stephieeee: also i love cujo so much? he's adorable???? valerino: Hes stronger than he looks, remember? lol and yeah, cujos a real sweetheart

Steph honks out a laugh so loud it echoes even amidst the clamour of Jason being chased around for his phone. Babs hums an intrigued note, but Steph simply smiles at her and flaps a hand at where Dick has Jason in a headlock, whilst Damian grabs the phone and attempts to hack into it.

Steph decides to take a picture of the rowdy group, Jason with his really red face, Duke and Harper jeering at the photo with Dick. Damian had gotten bored once he saw it was just a picture from his so-called 'paramour.'

stephieeee: the fam is never letting him live this down stephieeee: plssssss stephieeee: Jason is so down bad its embarrraasssssiinnngggg

Satisfied, Steph decides to get up and grab some of the iced tea Alfred left for them earlier. She's taking a much deserved sip to soothe her throat when she her phone buzzes twice more.

valerino has sent an image valerino: Danny is embarrassed as all hell, his face is SO red!

It's a selfie of Val laughing with her whole body, sort of cut off as Danny scrambles to get a shirt on. He's alarmingly red, looking like he's tripped in his haste to get the Red Hood themed shirt on, but Steph can't focus on that.

She focuses on Val, wet in a bikini top and daisy dukes.

Steph chokes on her tea and falls into the pool, cup and phone and all.

At least, Steph thinks as she recovers from her almost death-by-bikini-pic fall, my phone is bat certified and waterproof.

She takes another quick look at the photo, before she dunks herself in once more, just to cool her flaming cheeks down.

Tim'll fish her out, if only to see what happened.

Until then, the water feels great.

(Val and Danny get a series of photos after, from an unknown number that claims to be Jay's brother Tim.

One of Jay and Steph red faced and commiserating with each other. They're clearly talking about something, hands gesturing at what looks like Jay's phone.

One of Steph in a simple purple bikini emerging from the pool glorious and slicking back her hair out of her face, eyes half open, looking sultry as she catches sight of the camera.

One of a shirtless Jay getting shot by multiple streams of water, one arm up and laughing and smiling, handsome and joyous.

One of Jason, toppled over a lounge chair with his hands covering his clearly red face.

One of Steph with only her eyes above the water, cheeks and neck so red you can still see them even submerged.

Val and Danny practically faint. Sam and Tucker have to write their thank you texts for them.)

===

"I might be dying." Val groans from where she's sprawled on the floor of the new apartment she and Danny are sharing for their duration of Sophomore year.

It's a nice place, for the Narrows. Big living room, two bedrooms, a nice bathroom that heats up in only a couple minutes. The kitchen isn't anything fancy, just a stove top and a microwave, but Val and Danny don't have the capability of cooking up fancy stuff anyway.

Val's stuff was packed up easy, not hard to do when a college dorm room doesn't really allow for a lot of stuff in the first place. Though she did have Tucker bring up Huntress stuff, as well as some of the packed up clothes she didn't get to bring up the first time she moved now that's she's got the room.

Danny doesn't have that many belongings, per say, He's minimalist, in that way.

But he has a lot of stuff for his workshop. Since they don't' have a third bedroom, most the living room's going to be dedicated to it. There's a big rolling table with drawers under it for storage that can be pushed to the side so Val can practice her katas, and an industrial tarp they can throw over it to use it as a dinner table if need be.

Danny, like his parents, likes to spread out whenever he's working on something.

Unlike his parents, however, he's paranoid about contamination, and always puts everything back in its place when he's done.

He's been burned too many times to not be.

Plus, Val can use his stuff to do maintenance on her hoverboard.

They like to be efficient and practical about things.

The point is, she, Danny, Tucker and Sam have spent most of the day lugging up heavy cardboard boxes and furniture that is heavy and sometimes metal.

"I said I might be dying!" Val reiterates into the silence of the now cardboard filled room.

"We heard you to the first time." Sam drawls as she walks into the living room with a cup of water from the kitchen. "I don't even know why you're whining."

"Yeah, Danny did most of the heavy lifting," Tucker chimes in as he trails in behind Sam with a box of pizza. She hands it over to Val as she sits up from her sweaty sprawl.

Val rolls her eyes, because that is inherently untrue. "It's June, it's hot, and most of us did heavy labor."

"No, no. Tucker's got a point," Danny cuts in, lugging the last box of what looks like a bunch of a tools. "I did, in fact, bring up all the furniture, and the bulk of the community stuff."

He sets it down with the rest of his workshop stuff, dusting his hands and adopting a stupid pose where he flexes his arm muscles. Val gulps down her water in disgust.

"And Val and I brought up all the clothes and bedroom stuff," Sam scoffs, "Tuck got a couple boxes of all that electronic crap."

"And none of us have halfa strength to make it easy." Val points a finger threateningly at Danny, who puts his hands up in surrender. "Hard. Labor."

They sit in a circle around the pizza and shoot the shit—making the same old banter that never gets old, making grandiose travel plans that may or may not ever leave the group chat.

About how Sam's set to intern at the Daily Planet, finally about to work with her hero Lois Lane. How she hates how shiny and modern Metropolis is. How Wes has this crazy theory that dorky, clumsy, always going to the bathroom Clark Kent is Superman. How Sam believes him 100%, but won't ever tell him because she thinks it's funny.

How Tuck has this suspicion that the Flash is affiliated with Star Labs, somehow. That the tech in there seems out of this world almost, inter-dimensional in the way ecto-tech can be, but on a different frequency. How his dorm-mate is definitely some kind of meta, maybe even a time traveler, with the way he keeps using words like crash and mode in weird ways. But he's a great roommate, so Tuck minds his business.

And then, of course, the conversation ends up to their love lives.

Sam's got this enby in one of her journalism classes that keeps talking circles around her and Sam's this close to hate fucking them about it.

Tuck's been flirting it up with the girls, per usual, but there's a girl whose been trying real hard to pick up what he's putting down, and he's not actually sure if he wants that.

That conversation goes on a tangent about asexuality and aromanticism, but it'll have to be tabled until after Tucker has time to really…research the idea.

"I'm telling you, Val," Tuck changes the subject, "Steph is definitely into you."

"All the spars? Study dates?" Danny adds in, "Hasn't she been taking you on those ice cream dates too?"

"First of all, it's froyo," Val corrects haughtily, "Second of all that's all friend stuff. I did all that stuff with you guys, and I'll be doing them with you once the new semester starts."

"Third of all," Sam continues, "You have no leg to stand on, Mr. can't play doomed tonight guys," Her impression of Danny is nasally, and horribly wrong, but it's too funny to not laugh at, "I'm gonna watch a movie with Jason on discord!"

"That's—that's different." Danny sputters.

"Dude sends you food on a weekly basis because you said you forget to eat sometimes," Tucker says reluctantly, "And sends you letters."

"Letters???" Sam says indignantly, "You didn't tell me about any letters!"

"Since when has he been sending you letters??" Val asks, grabbing Danny's collar and shaking him when he mumbles and doesn't answer them clearly.

"Since January!" Danny finally yells, grabbing her hands and pulling them off, "They're just, they're not—they're nice! He's being nice. I told him I missed getting letters, and…"

Tucker, Sam and Val all groan in unison.

"He's been wooing you for half a year and you didn't even notice??" Val shrieks, into the ceiling. The ceiling is unsympathetic, but Sam and Tucker are.

"You've basically been dating Steph for half a year and you didn't notice!" Danny's voice is high pitched, his ears are red, and he's screeching with his hands on his face as he falls back and rolls all over the ground.

"You're both useless." Sam intones, "This could be solved by texting them."

"I can't just text her." Val says hotly, at the same time Danny says "Important conversations are not for texts!"

"Gods, you're perfect for him," Val mumbles under her breath, remembering Jay's very same fucking words all those months ago.

"Relationships are all about open communication, y'all." Tucker says in a wise tone.

They all stare at him. He makes a face, shrugging. "Fair enough. Carry on being useless."

"You really think he likes me?" Danny says, in a small voice through his fingers. He's not looking at any of them, and is curled up on the floor. "You think he's been…wooing me?"

"Danny…." Sam shakes her head, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. "The man has been trying his damnedest to make this whole thing romantic for you, hasn't he?"

"You've been having virtual breakfasts together, haven't you?" Tucker softly adds in, scooching over to pat Danny on the head.

Val rolls herself over to Danny's other side, the three of them surrounding him and patting him in some way. He reaches over, snags on Val's shirt sleeve.

"I'll text him," Danny's voice trembles, "But only if you text Steph."

Val opens her mouth to argue, but shuts it at Danny's pleading eyes. She sighs.

Tucker hands Danny his phone, and they draft about a million texts before they collectively settle. Movie and a dinner, just the two of them. Easy.

"Here goes nothing…" Danny takes a deep breath, before pressing send. He laughs nervously, before straight up chucking his phone at Sam, who catches it.

"I'm going to obsessively check my phone until he answers so let's work on your text instea—" A buzz interrupts him, all four heads swinging towards the phone in Sam's hand.

Her eyes widen, mouth gaping. Danny rolls over, leans to see—

"…Oh." Danny's face crumples. "I guess…I guess that's a no, then."

"Danny…" Tucker reaches for him, but Danny shakes his head and stands up.

"I gotta…I gotta get my room set up. Thanks for all the help guys, I—" He cuts himself off, voice going small and hurt, "I guess he got tired of waiting?"

He bites his lip. Val doesn't know what to say. None of them do.

He goes to his room, and Val never sends that text to Steph.

(Red Hood gets a text message from Danny asking Jason if he'd like to catch a movie together.

There's a follow up text where Danny asks if maybe Jason would like to get dinner afterward too, just the two of them.

Red Hood is in the middle of Nanda Parbat, stealing his stupid brother's no longer missing spleen back from the creep who tried to clone him.

Red Hood has bloody gloves, and has three ninja assassins stalking him.

Red Hood texts back a "can't." but nothing to follow up, not without getting a knife to the neck.

He manages to get back home, toss the spleen back at his brother, and fall into a dead sleep 18 hours later.

When Jason wakes up another 10 hours after that, it's to an abundance of messages from his friends and family. Only one is important.

dannywithawhy: ok.

Jason falls out of bed.)

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes.

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself.

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly?

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition.

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy.

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies.

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance.

All in All? It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all.

It's the little things.

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