#also why is it called monkey bars | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ohmytyong · 1 year ago

Text

mark me in your heart

PAIRING: drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader (female!reader)

GENRE: angst, smut, kinda friends with benefits au, bartender!renjun, best friend!renjun, action au, open-ended narrative

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, explicit description of drug use (don't do drugs kids), use of pet names, trust issues, explicit language, mentions of food, smoking, emotionally unavailable characters, both mark and y/n are kind of assholes, explicit sexual content, angry make-up sex, rough-ish sex, unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, choking, lip biting, nipple play, pussy slapping, spitting, oral (both m and f receiving), degradation, praise, spanking, crying, hair pulling, incredibly cringey dirty talking, aftercare (?), not proofread (let me know if i missed any!)

WC: 13k (12,975)

‣[PLAYLIST]: 505 by arctic monkeys, bad omens by 5 seconds of summer, slow down by chase atlantic, why do you only call me when you’re high? by arctic monkeys, a little death by the neighborhood, okay by chase atlantic

SUMMARY: when a sensitive and broken heart meets another one of the same nature, their instinctive reaction is to seek comfort in each other, and in order to heal themselves, they both need to be equally strong and willing to put all their broken pieces back together. but sometimes, some hearts aren’t strong enough to be saved; the only way to save them is if the stronger heart of the two is willing to take the risk and try for the both of them, whatever it takes.

A/N: it's finally here! it took me too long to finish this one but here it is! i know it might seem a bit fast paced or vague in certain parts, but remember this is all about the vibes and i deeply hope that you will enjoy it and give it some love because it definitely needs it <3

read on wattpad / ao3

“Hey Renjun, pass me that glass” you said as you wiped the thick tall glass completely dry before you put it back on the shelf behind you. You were moving mechanically at this point, the exhaustion of the long night at the bar taking over your entire body. It was 5 in the morning and you had just barely managed to kick out some of the remaining drunk nobodies who were so wasted, that their toxic-infused brains couldn’t even give them the signals to move their own bodies.

Working at the bar wasn’t your dream job but it’s not as if you had a better choice. It was either a bartender or a stripper. Both of them sounded equally bad, so you decided to opt for the slightly better one. If you could even say it like that.

It wasn’t a particularly ideal job but it was enough to get you by. It earned you enough money to buy you food and pay the rent at the motel you were staying at, it got you as many free drinks as you needed to help your mind escape from all your worries and you also got to meet some relatively cool people, so that was somewhat good. The working hours weren’t such a big of an issue either, you couldn’t really sleep anyway. So you were fine with it.

Most nights, the bar usually closed at around 3 am. There wasn’t a set rule on this; it usually depended on how many customers there were and how much they were drinking. Your boss had suggested that you shouldn’t keep the bar open all night long, so you kinda decided that it was best to close a few hours after midnight. You weren’t complaining about this though; the sooner it closed, the more time you’d have to get high with your co-worker Renjun at the alleyway behind the bar.

Unfortunately, tonight luck wasn’t on your side, as a group of friends kept on drinking more and more as the hours passed by, which meant that you and Renjun had to keep the bar open until later. You weren’t opposed to this idea, it only meant that you would earn a little bit more money. It was Renjun who started complaining, so he decided to take action into his own hands and practically dragged the drunks out of the bar.

This is how you ended up cleaning up the place this late, rather this early in the morning, with your co-worker. The two of you were too tired to speak, so neither of you made any efforts to spark up a conversation. You both just attended to your respective tasks, waiting for a specific somebody to show up.

Luck surely wasn’t on your side tonight. He would usually show up at around 3:30 am, right after the bar closed, and he would have all the stuff ready, just at the exact moment you needed it. Why was he late today?

It didn’t take a genius to understand that Renjun was clearly affected by the lack of the stuff. He moved around the place nervously, tugging at his hair and stomping his foot rhythmically. He was in a desperate need of it, and you would honestly lie to yourself if you said you didn’t need it half as much as Renjun did.

You put the last clean glass on the shelf behind you and went over to the storage room to grab a broom, so that you could clean the floor a bit while Renjun was still wiping the bar counters. As soon as you closed the door of the storage room, the little bell that hung above the bar’s front door rang with a tinkle and soon after it followed the sound of the so familiar footsteps you were waiting for all night.

“Hey kids, Santa’s here,” his voice resonated in the empty room as he waved a small transparent plastic bag that looked white because of its content. Renjun threw the handkerchief he was holding to the other side of the counter and dramatically jumped over it to go and hug the male who just entered. All of that just at the sight of the clear plastic bag with the snowy content.

“Mark, what took you so long my guy, I’m literally a dead man walking! Give this beauty to me,” Renjun exclaimed and snatched the plastic bag straight out of Mark’s hand. Mark smirked at what Renjun said and immediately started grinning at the sight of the boy’s eagerness.

Renjun went to sit on the bar stool closer to him and placed the bag on top of the counter he had just wiped clean. With slender fingers, he opened the plastic bag and dredged some of the content on the counter. With nervousness in his movements, he set the bag aside and shuffled through his back pocket to find his ID card. He started scattering the white dust all over the counter before he gathered all of it in a straight line with the help of his ID card. When he was satisfied with the result, he put his ID card back into his pocket, lowered his head to the level that his nose touched the cold surface of the counter, took a deep breath and snorted the entire line of crack, the product going straight up into his nostrils.

Renjun blinked several times before he slowly lifted his head. He scrunched his nose and wiped it with the back of his hand, his drowsy eyes looking surprisingly bright considering his state. “Man, whoever hasn’t done crack, never, they haven’t known the beauty of life yet” he chuckled. Mark smirked at Renjun’s comment and you couldn’t help but shake your head amusingly, a small smile creeping up at your face.

Renjun took the plastic bag with the rest of the cocaine and put it in his pocket. “This baby’s for me, thank you,” he amused and turned his heel towards the storage room. “Don’t come look for me, I’ll be right here. If I take too long to come out, then you should be concerned,” he said and closed the storage room door behind him; a scene that was surprisingly quite familiar to you.

You then set the broom down and walked towards Mark. “Hey” you whispered and Mark greeted you back in a low husky voice. “What took you so long? We were expecting you to come earlier” you asked him.

Mark shrugged and leaned his elbow against the counter. “I came by at our usual meeting hour and saw that you guys were still open. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me so I decided to drop by later,” he said and you nodded in understanding.

“You do have more of those plastic bags on you, don’t you?” you asked him and he chuckled. “Of course I do, pretty. Let’s go outside and treat ourselves a bit, shall we?” he suggested and you nodded again, walking beside him towards the alleyway behind the bar.

The sky was painted in a deep hue of light blue, the moon and the stars still visible in the early morning sky, the sun barely seen in the horizon. You huffed in a sharp breath and put both your hands inside the pockets of your jeans as a reaction to the crispy air of the early morning, as you leaned your back on the damp wall behind you. Mark followed right after you and did the same. He shuffled into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clear plastic bag full of crack, two crack pipes and a lighter. With almost automatic motions, he filled the pipes with crack and lit them up. He handed you one of them and kept one for himself.

You looked at the crack pipe as if it were an oasis in the middle of an infinite desert and you were so thirsty that your dried up mouth and throat were already relieved just by the sight of it. It only took you one second to react to the visual stimuli in front of you, quickly removing your right hand from your pocket and pulling the pipe straight from Mark’s hand. You brought the pipe to your lips, closed your eyes and took a long, slow drag. This was exactly what you needed.

You immediately felt your body relax and your mind clearing up. The moment you took the drag in, all your worries and problems completely vanished, even if it were only temporary. It was your brief sweet escape from the huge bitter world you were forced to live in.

A chilly breeze flew and you lifted your shoulders at the shivering sensation. Mark noticed immediately and he pulled you closer to him, removed one of the sleeves of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder, slinging his arm over it too.

"So," Mark spoke up, breaking the easing silence, "how was work today?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "Eh, like usual. Bunch of random people came in to drink their problems away and give us their money in exchange for adulterated alcohol. But Renjun had to drag some of them out of the bar, he literally grabbed them by their collar and feet and dragged them out of the store, you should have seen it. It was way too funny" you said and chuckled at the memory of the incident that happened a couple hours ago.

Mark giggled at your statement. "Damn," he dragged out the word, "too bad I missed that" he said and brought the crack pipe to his lips and squinted his eyes in pleasure and relief when he inhaled the poisonous content.

The next few minutes remained silent. There was only the sound of cars passing by being heard in the distance, it was probably people going to their early shifts at work. Normal types of work. Unlike the one you had, unlike the fate you brought upon yourself. That’s when the realization of your situation hit you like a truck. How could your family cut you off so easily when they found out that your dreams were different from what they were expecting of you? Were you just a tool for them? Another burden to take care of?

"You seem unhappy" Mark broke the silence. He was looking straight ahead in the distance, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular, probably because he was a bit too high to notice anything.

"Because I am" you responded to his comment, turning your head to look at him, searching for a sense of home into his soulless eyes.

Mark smirked and turned his attention to his heels. "You know, I wanna help. Right? You know that" he said with a raspy voice due to his sleeplessness. "But I don't think that feeding you drugs is any help" he now turned his head to look you in the eyes.

You pressed your lips into a thin line before you spoke. "I ask for the drugs Mark, you're not feeding me anything. It's my only escape, what else am I supposed to do?"

"I love you, Y/n" Mark said.

You winced at his confession and turned your head to avoid his gaze and fixating yours on the wide sky ahead of you.

"You're high, Mark. Cut the crap" you said in a bitter tone.

"Do you think I'm lying? I mean it, Y/n. I fucking love you, for whatever reason I do. And I care about you, so come with me and let's get out of this shitty town. I’m running out of time too, they’ll soon find where I live" Mark defended himself.

You turned again to meet his eyes. "And go where, Mark? Where the fuck should we go, huh? I don't have anything else to do other than this shitty job. I only keep it because I need the money to survive and it's the only way to keep myself sane. The people I used to call family kicked me out of my house and this was the easiest solution I could come up with before I would collapse entirely and before it would become too difficult to get back on my own feet. So what else is left for me to do?" you were clearly getting angrier now, but not at Mark. At yourself.

Mark's eyes darkened in sadness. "That's what I'm saying! You deserve better than this! Look, we have enough money. I do deals, but I know this is a job I can't have forever. I told you, I’m on thin ice. If I’m seen doing deals again, I’ll go to jail. You know I play the guitar, right? I can join a band or something. I know a friend downtown, he might be of help" he said.

"And you," he continued, "you're a great bartender. You could make a career out of it" he said.

You shut your eyelids and shook your head in denial. "It won't work out. I'm a mess, you're a mess. We can't make this work. It's impossible" you said, turning your head away.

Mark sat up straight and put his hand below your chin to turn your attention towards him. "Look at me, Y/n. We can make it work. Believe me. Trust me. I can't leave you living like this. And I certainly can't live a life like this myself. You're the only person I can make a change with. I need you" he said.

You gulped and stared right into his eyes, unable to form a response. "So you just need me as a means to get you out of town and help you start your magical new life. No thanks, Mark, I'll pass" you said and shoved his hand away to release his grip on you.

Mark became frustrated and moved to stand right in front of you. The half of his jacket that was wrapped around your shoulders dropped and it hung behind his back.

"Okay, look Y/n, you're tired and you're high. We'll have this conversation again in the morning" Mark said defeated.

Your energy was running low despite the boost of energy you had just inhaled, so you let yourself loose. "Let's get you back to your room. You need some rest. Come on, I'll drop you off" Mark suggested and you gave in to him completely.

You took a step towards him and stumbled a bit. Mark, with his rapid reflexes, caught you firmly by the forearm and guided you to his car. The last thing you remembered was the faint sound of the car door closing, before you were engulfed into pretty sleep.

The next day you woke up to the sound of light guitar strumming from across the dim lit motel room. It was already past noon; the curtains were still drawn closed but the midday sun rays found their way in between the curtain folds and peaked through the dirty motel room windows to light up the inside of the place.

Mark was sitting on a wooden chair across the bed with a concentrated look on his face. With his jaw clenched and his cheekbones popping, he strum his fingers through the guitar strings, playing random chords in an attempt to create a melody he liked.

You shuffled between the bedsheets and stretched your body all over the old bed. A squeaky sound echoed in the room due to your sudden movement, which caught Mark’s attention. His strumming stopped abruptly and his head jolted up in surprise, his eyes opened wide and his lips dropped to a pout.

“Did I wake you up? Shit, I’m sorry” he whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible.

You rubbed your eyes to clear your vision and looked at him. “No, you didn’t. I like what you’re playing. Sounds pretty” you reassured him. “Good morning, Mark”

His previously guilty expression was taken over by a wide grin appearing on his face, which turned into a bright smile. “Good morning, pretty,” he said.

You smiled at him and he went back on strumming random chords on his guitar. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of his messy hair and wrinkly t-shirt due to the, apparently, good quality sleep he just had. Your obsessive thoughts took over once again and didn’t let you enjoy this glimpse of happiness in the abyss of misery you were engulfed in. Your lips gradually dropped to a frown and your vision became blurry again.

Mark wasn’t perfect, but neither were you. He came into your life at the perfect moment, when you needed him the most. It was your first day at the bar, your first time as a bartender. Renjun had been training you all day, teaching you the basic parts of the job and giving you tips on how to handle weird or creepy customers. You were completely drained out that day, so your co-worker and soon-to-be best friend had promised you a pleasant surprise by the end of your shift.

Renjun’s definition of a “pleasant surprise” was slightly different from yours. That night, Mark walked into the empty bar with steps full of confidence. You didn’t know him back then, but from the very first second you saw his figure enter your life, there was only one word that kept circulating your mind; trouble.

Mark was trouble. With his sharp gaze and well-defined features, captivating aura and assertive moves, it was more than obvious that this guy would mean nothing but trouble to you. For some inexplicable reason, this was exactly why you were instantly attracted to him.

Mark came in carrying all the usual stuff Renjun wanted and gave them over to him without talking much. The two guys seemed to share a lot of past memories together, and you were right. Renjun had filled you in later that night on his relationship with Mark and how they helped each other stand back up on their own feet after they were forced to leave home. A story very familiar to you.

Mark came by the bar every single night. He didn’t give Renjun drugs every time, but he sure enjoyed both your and Renjun’s company. It’s not as if he had anywhere else to go.

That’s how you grew quite fond of him very easily. You found yourself looking forward to the end of your shift just so you could see him. He once offered you drugs but immediately took back his offer when he saw your shocked expression. You were at the lowest point in your life and doing drugs wouldn’t be the wisest habit to take up, even though this was, at the same time, the exact reason why you should do drugs. Eventually, reality hit you and you caved in, waiting for Mark to come at the end of your shift for one more reason other than just seeing him. He was reluctant at first. Mark didn’t want to drag you into this lifestyle, so you annoyed him and begged for it until he finally gave you the lethal medicine.

You and Mark were surprisingly very similar. Maybe that’s why you bonded so fast with each other. And maybe that’s exactly why you were equally bad for each other. You could see so much of yourself in him, just at a more put-together version. Sure, he was a drug dealer, which was certainly not a better job than yours, but he at least seemed to have a purpose in his life. Unlike you.

As time passed, you started spending more and more time with him. You would smoke crack, get high, talk endlessly until your mouths dried up, go back to your motel room, have sex with each other, and repeat. You found comfort in his presence and became attached to him without even noticing.

But you didn’t love him. No, you couldn’t call this love. Rather, you were depending on him, no matter how much you hated that. He acted as an emotional support beacon to you, you enjoyed his company and, if you were honest, you genuinely liked him. But it was hard for you to admit to any deeper feelings, so you repeatedly tried to convince yourself that you didn’t love him, so that it wouldn’t hurt as much if he ever decided to switch on you. You hoped it wouldn’t turn out like that.

You lightly shook your head to get rid of all these thoughts and got out of bed to wash up a bit. “I’m starving, I’ll go down to the diner to grab some breakfast, do you want anything?” you asked Mark as you were heading towards the humid bathroom.

“Let’s go eat there. Together” Mark suggested and you stopped at your steps.

He always avoided going out in places that were too public because he was at risk of being outed as a dealer. Especially now that he was caught selling drugs once and the guy who saw him threatened to report Mark to the police.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re on thin ice, you said that yourself” you raised the tone of your voice and walked towards him.

Mark put down his guitar to focus on you. “You worry too much Y/n, like, what are the odds? We’re in the middle of nowhere, I doubt anyone knows this place apart from us and the customers of your bar. I think we’ll be fine,” he cleared his throat, “I mean, I’ll be fine. Relax, I wanna spend some time with you.”

You decided against protesting and trusted Mark’s certainty of his words. Besides, he was right. The diner was out of town, it wasn’t very popular among people who weren’t familiar with the bar. Most customers at the diner were either drunk people from the bar or passersby. So you simply just nodded and whispered a soft “okay” before you went inside the bathroom, the door emitting a creaking sound as you closed it shut behind you.

The screeching sound of the fork scratching the surface of the porcelain plate turned your facial expression into a wince, which went completely unnoticed by Mark whose attention was entirely devoted to the pancakes in front of him.

The old diner was relatively empty despite it being lunch time. Other than you and Mark, there was only a group of friends and a guy sitting on a barstool. You were actually very satisfied with the quietness of the place, which was only disrupted by sounds of forks scraping plates and glasses thudding on the tables.

The diner was situated right down the same road your motel was at, so anytime your stomach growled in annoyance you would stop by and fulfill its needs. You were practically a regular customer now and probably the one who kept the place from going bankrupt. It was old, cheap and dirty; the perfect place for you.

Mark gulped down the last bite of his pancakes and thirstily drank the entire glass of water. He then set the glass down and leaned back on the booth, fixating his gaze on you.

You noticed his eager eyes on you and you set down your fork, mimicking his stance and staring right back at him, waiting for him to speak.

"That was a pretty good meal" Mark sighed and you smiled a bit. This wasn't what he wanted to say.

Since Mark seemed to be unwilling to speak his mind, you decided to take matters into your own hands instead.

"Why did you want to have lunch with me?" you asked him with your voice calm and your eyes searching for an answer in his.

Mark crossed his arms and scrunched up his nose before he answered your question. "’Cause I wanted to spend time with you. Actual time. You know, like normal people?" he said.

You rolled your eyes at his response and mimicked his body language once again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't buy it, Mark" you said.

Mark sat up straight and leaned closer to the table, resting his elbows on top of it. "Why are you always like this, Y/n? Whenever I tell you something, you never believe me! What's up with you?" Mark's frustration started building up in his attempt to defend himself.

"It's not that I don't believe you-"

"It's that you don't trust me" Mark interrupted you and you stood there with your mouth still open. You didn't know what to say.

Mark's gaze was piercing, his sharp eyes were darker than usual and his lips quivered at the blank stare you were giving him. "You don't trust me," he concluded.

The truth is that you weren't sure if you trusted him or not. You wanted to trust him and he had proved to you numerous times that he was someone who cared and didn't lie. Yet sometimes, you were afraid that if you trusted him too much, he would end up hurting you. So every time he said something you weren't expecting him to say, you immediately assumed that he was lying.

"Mark, listen to me," you started to say and Mark sat back against the booth, rolling his eyes. "I-I do trust you, it's just that-"

"What? You think I don't mean what I say? If I didn't meant what I fucking said then I wouldn't fucking say it! When I say I care about you, Y/n, I fucking mean it. When I say I fucking love y-"

"Don't get mad" you were the one that interrupted him now. Mark was clearly way too frustrated by you now, his voice was getting gradually louder, his eyes were full of fire and his nostrils were fuming.

At the sudden raise of Mark’s voice, the guy who was sitting at the barstool turned to look at your booth with a brief glance and then returned back to eating his food.

"Mark, just let it go, please" your voice came out almost like a whisper. You hated when Mark became angry at you and you hated it even more when he did it in public, even though it was practically just you and him in that diner.

Mark's jaw visibly relaxed and he lowered his eyes to his lap, nodding to himself. He lifted his head to look back at you with pleading eyes, much in contrast with his previous fiery gaze.

"Then why don't you come with me? Out of this fucking town? You deserve to live a better life than this. We deserve it. Look, I know I don't have an exact plan on how we'll do it, but I know that we can figure it out together. Please, Y/n" he said, taking your hand in his from across the table, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You lowered your eyes at the spot your hands were joined together. Did you really love Mark? No, actually, did you really trust him enough to depend your entire life on him?

You couldn't give him an answer at that moment. Not a yes, not a no. Not even I don't know. Forget that, it would complicate things even more.

Mark noticed that you weren't going to give him an answer to his question soon, so he let go of your hand and started putting on his jacket. He reached into the inside pocket and took out some cash. He slammed it on the table and got up from the booth ready to leave.

"I have to go to work now, alright? I've arranged some deals. I'll come back later at the bar tonight. If you ever decide what you want to do with me, you know where to find me" he said and without even turning to look at him, you heard the sound of his footsteps grow fainter as he walked out the diner.

The bar was relatively full tonight. From behind the counter, you could spot only two empty tables. That was the fullest the bar has been in the last month. At the far back of the bar, you spotted Renjun already counting the tips he had earned and it was still midnight.

All the customers were busy chatting and enjoying their drinks. You found yourself craving some alcohol too, the need for an intoxicant substance was growing stronger and stronger, so you decided to mix just a little bit of something to treat yourself.

As you were filling in your glass, Renjun walked behind the counter and leaned close to your ear to speak, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to hear him through the loud chatting of the customers. “Man, I think we are in heaven, I lost count of my tips and I’m not even high yet” he said and you giggled at him.

He noticed the bottle of vodka you were holding and nudged you on your forearm. “Hey, pour me some of that too” he asked and your response was to grab a glass from the shelf behind the counter and fill it with the toxic liquid.

You had barely stopped filling in the glass when Renjun grabbed it and downed the liquid in an instant. He placed the glass on top of the counter with a thud and licked his lips, savoring the bitter taste. “What’s up with you and Mark?” Renjun asked you. You contemplated whether you should answer him or pretend you didn’t hear him just to buy you some time. A good couple of seconds passed so you just caved in and answered him.

“I don’t know. Go and ask him.” you said in a tone filled with nonchalance, sipping on your drink.

Renjun rested his elbows on the counter, his eyes scanning the place around him. “He said the exact same fucking thing when I asked him about you. You can’t be running in a vicious circle all the time. Just fuck it out, you’re both acting like little kids” he said and you sighed at his scolding tone.

Renjun wasn’t just your co-worker, he had also grown to become your best friend, a person you could talk to freely without fear of judgment because he always understood your intentions. Engulfed in your misery and loneliness, he was the person who helped you get back on your feet and have hope that things will somehow get slightly better. That sounds like something a friend would do.

You brought the glass to your lips to drink the last sip of vodka that was still inside, leaving it empty waiting to be filled with more of that toxic liquid. “You wanna know what, Renjun? Even though I hate the life I’ve made for myself, I enjoy having Mark in it. But I can’t do what he asks me to do. I can’t depend my entire life on him. I can count on him for some of it, yes, but starting anew with him? I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m not the kind of person you want to start a life with. I will fuck everything up. And he shouldn’t count on me as much as he does. It’s for the better. For both of us.”

Renjun kept staring at you, waiting for your little rant to be over so that he could take his turn to speak. He gulped and looked at your burnt out figure. Your eyeballs were turning a bit crimson due to the line of cocaine you snorted earlier, even though you promised you’d wait until Mark came later, and the lack of sleep provided you with dark hues under your eyes and skin as pale as the moon.

“Look, Y/n,” Renjun started and came a bit closer to you so that he wouldn’t have to strain his vocal chords in order to be heard, “I see your point. And I understand exactly what you mean because I felt the same way when I came here. But in my case, I had nobody to lean on. I became an addict, left home and the rest of the story is familiar to you. But you and Mark have each other and, trust me, your future is looking way brighter than mine.”

You looked into his eyes searching for honesty. Renjun has always been honest with you and you never doubted any of his words. He really cared about you. Mark too, as it seemed. And he was right. Living in a cheap motel, starving and working long hours to barely make ends meet, depending on drugs and more specifically on an exceptionally lovely drug dealer wasn’t the life you imagined to have. But fate had different plans for you and now you ended up here, whatever this here is supposed to be.

Mark didn’t seem to be ill-intentioned. From the very first moment you met him, he was protective and caring, he had always treated you nice. He spoke to you softly and touched you in a just as smooth way. But the life he was living wasn’t that much better than yours; in fact, you could say it was even worse. He depended on you as much as you depended on him.

You didn’t know what was the thing that made you keep a sort of distance from him. Emotional distance. Part of it might be because you weren’t available to be fully devoted to him, because of fear that one day he would leave you, just like everyone else did. Part of it might be because the two of you weren’t so different and two broken souls mending together doesn’t necessarily make a fully healed one.

“I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. I could do it later but I’m afraid I’ll be too high to think rationally. Or maybe this will give me more insight, I don’t know, I’ve never thought of it. Do you think clearer when you’re high?” you asked Renjun but he was preoccupied, looking at the screen of his phone which radiated such brightness his eyes squinted as a reflex.

Scanning his features more carefully, you realized that the reason for his scrunched expression wasn’t lying solely on the brightness of the screen. You took half a step closer to him and Renjun tilted his phone away from you, hiding the screen from your eyesight.

“What’s wrong, Renjun?” you asked with worry lacing the tone of your voice. Renjun shook his head and put his phone away in his back pocket. “Mark won’t be coming by later. Something came up, I’m afraid we’re in trouble too. Listen, can you handle the bar for a couple hours by yourself? Mark needs some help” Renjun said, searching for his jacket underneath the counter.

Your eyes widened at Renjun’s words and you felt your heartbeat racing and your fingertips trembling. “Is Mark okay? Tell me, is he okay?” your rising voice quivered, betraying the nervousness you felt.

Renjun squeezed your shoulder and pressed his lips together in an attempt of a reassuring smile. “Yes, he is alright. He’s fine. He just needs some help with the cops. If you see anyone suspicious showing up, flash the stashes down the toilet, we don’t want them finding anything. I’ll be back soon.”

With swift movements, Renjun turned his heel to walk out the bar in a hurry, muttering something under his breath that, due to your shocked and nervous state, you failed to hear, “How am I gonna save your ass this time, Mark?”

As soon as you heard the bell on top of the bar’s front door tinkle, you knew that Renjun was already outside and you were left alone in the bar. You were left standing frozen behind the counter, staring into nothingness. Your vision became blurry due to the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes, your hands curled into fists and your nails were digging deep into your palms, cold sweat forming at the sides of your forehead.

You were terrified. Mark was already caught selling drugs very recently, so your mind went to the worst case scenario which made you extremely terrified; that Mark was caught selling drugs by the police.

You dreaded this moment at the exact same time your eyes met Mark’s sharp ones. You knew that, once you became thick as thieves with a drug dealer, you would be in for a lot of trouble.

But you also knew how careful Mark was and this gave you hope that, whatever the case is right now, he would find a way to get himself out of there. Mark was a smart guy. You wanted to trust him, you wanted to believe that he would be smart enough not to get himself in trouble.

Yet something didn’t add up. Mark has been doing these types of deals for a long time now, he knew all the tricks of the job and he knew very well how to protect himself. So it sounded almost impossible that he would do something so reckless and irresponsible to get him caught.

There was only one possible and logical answer to all of your questions. That somebody ratted him out.

Your train of thought was disrupted by the husky voice of a man. “Excuse me, miss, would you mind pouring me a drink?”

Your head snapped at the sudden sound of a voice other than the one inside your head. Your eyes met with a man sitting on a barstool at the other side of the counter, looking at you with wary eyes. Your gaze was roaming all over his figure when your eyes halted for a second as soon as they spotted something shiny at the right side of the man’s chest; a badge.

You cleared your throat to cover up the anxiety and fear that started to appear in your voice. “Officer! What can I get you?” you greeted him with bright eyes and a cheerful voice that masked your intense heartbeat and the trembling state of your hands behind the counter.

“Actually, I don’t want a drink,” he started and moved his hand inside his jacket to pull out a file with pictures and papers, “but I do want you to help me with something. Have you ever seen this guy?” he asked you, placing the file on the counter and turning it to your side.

You gulped at the sight in the front of you and your eyes quivered from side to side. A mugshot of the face you grew to almost love was staring back at you. Sharp gaze and popping cheekbones, defined jawline and dark eyes were presented in front of you and you knew more than well enough who the person in the picture was.

Your heart sank at the sight of Mark’s mugshot and you knew what you had to do. You drew in your eyebrows together and lifted the picture with your hand in order to bring it closer to your eyes and examine it better. “I don’t think I recognize this man, officer” you said.

You set the picture down on top of the counter and looked at the police officer, not trying to avoid eye contact. You wanted to seem as less guilty as possible.

The police officer took the picture and put it back inside the file. “Really? That’s a shame. But I’ve been informed that you do know this guy because you were seen with him this morning.”

You froze immediately. Your brain tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, you tried to digest and connect everything the cop just said in order to form your answer.

“Are you sure about this, officer? A lot of other girls look like me, maybe it was a mistake?” you asked with a rising intonation in an attempt to defend yourself by adding another lie to your previous one.

You tried to remember where you could be possibly seen with Mark, especially during the day. You always met with him at night and you avoided seeing each other in the morning. There was no way anyone saw you with Mark.

The moment you had this thought, the answer to your question suddenly popped up in your head as if a lit up light bulb. That morning, you and Mark had breakfast down at the diner. And you specifically remember that suspicious guy who kept staring at the two of you.

That’s when you knew you had to do something drastic to get you out of this situation, and you had to do it relatively fast.

The police officer didn’t seem to buy the lie you had just uttered and continued to pressure you more. “Is this where you keep all the drinks? Can I take a look inside your storage room?”

The rhythm of your heartbeat kept increasing more and more by each word the police officer said and you were running out of lies and excuses.

“Sure, it’s this way officer” you said with a nonchalant tone, gesturing towards the door behind the counter.

The cop stood up and turned his heel to walk behind the counter and towards the storage room door. Your trembling hands had barely managed to hide the stashes you kept behind the cash register under your oversized shirt, and you followed the cop inside the storage room with uncertain steps.

The police officer could not find the rest of the stashes. It shouldn’t happen, and you had to act smart in order to prevent it. “Can I help you with something, officer? We can’t stay in here for too long, my co-worker finished early and we’re not allowed to leave the bar without having anyone to tend to the customers” you said in an attempt to speed up the process and get rid of him before he could find anything that could put you in jail.

“You can go back to your work, miss. This is my job here, you can go and do yours” the cop said as he had already taken a bottle of vodka in his hand to examine it for anything suspicious.

“Okay, I just wanted to help. Call me if you need anything,” your answer was convincing enough for him, but it wasn’t good enough for you to buy you more time.

You left the storage room and stood right outside the door, leaving it so open as to let you peek through it so that you were able to see what the police officer was doing.

With your still trembling fingers, you took out your phone from your pocket and dialed Renjun’s number with quick movements. Without taking your eyes away from the cop, you kept tapping your foot waiting for Renjun to pick up his phone.

The constant beeping sound in your ear signaled that Renjun wasn’t going to respond soon, so you put your phone back in your pocket and tried to think of what to do.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you muttered under your breath, running your fingers through your hair. Your eyes were wavering from the police officer to the customers in the bar and then back to the police officer. You had to do something to get everyone out of there.

Your eyes followed the cop’s figure and certainly didn’t like what you were seeing. The cop squatted down so that he could reach the boxes under the shelves and stretched his arm to pull out one of them.

“No, no, no, fuck” you whispered. Those are the boxes in which you hid the drugs.

You turned your head to look at the inside of the bar. It was fully packed. There was not any chair or barstool that was empty and, just at that moment, the door opened to reveal a group of friends who wanted to get drunk and have fun just like the rest of the people inside the bar.

The only person who wasn’t having any fun right now was you. And obviously Mark and Renjun as well, who you had no idea about their whereabouts or their well-being. On any random night, all these people in the bar would equal a pretty satisfactory amount of tips that would make your life slightly easier to get by. However, you could definitely not say that for this particular night, when your main priority was your and your friends’ safety.

Shifting your gaze from the customers to the police officer and back to your phone for any missed calls or unread messages from either Renjun or Mark, you were completely on your own on this one. Cold sweat engulfed your entire body as the seconds passed and the cop was one step closer to finding the thing that could turn your entire life upside down.

You swallowed thickly and looked at your phone one last time. No sign of anybody.

“Okay, I got this” you muttered to yourself and walked behind the counter where you usually stood. A middle-aged woman was sitting on one of the barstools, smoking and sipping lightly from the cocktail you mixed for her earlier. You picked up the first bottle of alcohol you saw on the counter - you didn’t have the time to care what it was - and walked towards her.

“Excuse me, miss, would you like a refill?” you asked politely to gain her attention. Before she even opened her mouth to speak, your actions were faster than her words. You quickly snatched the cigarette from her hand and put it out on the counter, immediately pouring some alcohol right on that spot.

Soon enough, flames started building up and the counter caught on fire. The smell of smoke became suffocating and it was hard to breathe in such a small space full of people. Your plan worked.

Muttering a string of “sorrys” to the woman, you turned around to pull the fire alarm. Every customer turned their heads to the direction of the piercing sound full of worry. “Everyone must get out, the building is on fire!” you yelled as loudly as you could, motioning everyone out the door.

Very quickly, you managed to evacuate the building by leading all the panicked customers outside the bat through the front door. In the midst of all this chaos, you noticed with the corner of your eye the police officer you rushed out of the storage room without looking any scared at all.

You ushered the last customers outside as the fire grew bigger, eventually leaving you and the cop as the only ones inside the flaming place. As he passed by you to get out the bar, he leaned closer to your face and whispered. "That was smart, young lady," he said and walked outside towards his car.

So he knew, you thought. He knew all along about the drug deals happening in this place and mainly the drug possession. He almost tricked you into thinking you tricked him. How amateurish of you.

You walked out the bar and shut the door behind you, watching the police officer drive away. A sigh of temporary relief escaped your lips and you pulled out your phone to dial a phone number you weren't particularly happy to call. Waiting for a few seconds, you heard the dreadful voice on the other line. "Hey boss, um, is it easy for you to come down to the bar? We kinda have a small problem" you said with a rapidly beating heart.

The time was already 3:16. You were pacing around your motel room, patiently waiting for any news about Mark. You had already called and texted him multiple times, but all of your efforts to reach him went in vain.

A few minutes after you called your boss, she arrived at the bar, totally shocked and deeply saddened upon seeing her not-so-small business all up in flames. You explained to her what happened, shaping the story so as not to sound guilty, and luckily she didn't blame you for anything.

After the firefighters arrived, your boss encouraged you to go home, saying that you already went through a lot for the night, so you needed to get some rest.

So now you were back to your motel room, unable to get some rest because you were still scared about yourself and your previous interaction with that police officer. But most importantly, you were anxious about Mark.

You were terrified for him. And your fear only increased because you couldn’t do anything to help him or save him. You realized that you depended on him twice as much as he depended on you and that made you feel useless in situations like this. Knowing that Renjun was - probably - with him eased your nerves a bit, but, at the same time, knowing that you didn’t do anything to help him made you feel selfish and hopeless.

Everything you did tonight was to save no one else but yourself. The entire night, you kept worrying about yourself and how you could avoid going to jail when during those very same moments in time you had no idea how Mark was or what he was going through.

Mark wasn’t the helpless one in this situation; it was you.

As you picked up your phone to call Renjun again, a loud thumping noise on the door startled you. Your body jolted up upon hearing the sudden sound and you walked nervously towards the door to look outside through the peephole.

Your eyes widened in shock and surprise at the sight of the face that was constantly on your mind. You didn’t waste any time opening the door and pulling the boy you were aching to see all night long inside the motel room, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

You rested your head in the crook of Mark’s neck and he reacted to your touch in an instant, stretching his arms to the small of your back to hug you as tightly as he physically could.

Tears fell from the corners of your eyes and you pulled back just as much as you needed in order to look into Mark’s exhausted eyes without breaking the embrace. “You can’t imagine how scared I was,” you whispered.

Mark stared deeply into your watery eyes. He moved his hands to cup both of your cheeks and nodded his head when he processed what you just said. “I know, I was terrified too. Renjun came to help me but we kinda fucked it up" he said with a stinging tone in his voice.

“What happened?” you asked and Mark let go of you and walked towards the bed in the middle of the room, sitting on the edge of it. You copied his movements and sat down right next to him, turning your head to his side as you waited for him to fill you in on what you had missed.

“That bastard ratted me out. That asshole from the diner. I had a deal with some teenagers and he called the cops on me. I don’t even know how he tracked me down.” Mark confessed looking straight, his eyes full of void, focusing on nothing in particular.

“Anyway, they took me to the police station and started questioning me about all this bullshit. There was no way I could excuse myself, they literally busted me, they saw me doing the deals. I texted Renjun and, I don’t know what he said to them but it didn't go well," he stopped to take a deep breath despite the desert that formed inside his mouth and the waterfalls that were forming in the corners of his eyes, "so we basically ran away and sooner or later the police will find me. I had nowhere else to go and I knew that your place would be relatively safe." Mark finished reciting you the events of the last few hours, tears staining his cheeks like the raindrops of a drizzle.

The dried tears that stained your cheeks became wet again when the new set of them fell down your face. You were staring at Mark through your teary gaze, trying to find any emotion in his void expression. He had never looked so soulless and it terrified you even more.

But the truth is that Mark himself was trying to mask his fear and anxiety by not showing them. The tears that traveled from his bambi eyes down to his popping cheekbones felt empty and the sight of him in such a state brought a stinging pain to your heart.

“So w-what does that mean?” your voice trembled at each word you uttered as you faced Mark with nothing but fear and another emotion that, at that moment, resembled love.

Mark made an attempt to wipe most of the tears off his face with the palms of his hands so that he could face you with clear vision. “It means I might go to jail. I will go to jail, unless I get out of here” he said. “Fuck, those bastards gave me an excuse to leave this fucking place” Mark scoffed as he sat up from the bed and started roaming around the narrow room, hands resting on his waist.

Your eyes trailed on every single one of his moves. You blinked several times to prevent any more tears from falling and cleared your throat to avoid your hoarse trembling voice. “So you’re really leaving” you said quietly, more to yourself than to Mark.

Mark turned around to look at you. “Yeah, I am. First thing in the morning. I don’t have many things to pack so it won’t take me long. And I can help you pack your things too, it will be quicker if-”

“Who said I’m coming with you?” you interrupted Mark and you immediately regretted doing so once you met his fuming gaze, which was now completely taken over by anger but was previously filled with nothing but emptiness.

“Y/n, we agreed to this. You’re coming with me and that’s it.” Mark growled as he took a step closer to you.

You stood up and started walking nervously around the place you called home, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to ease your nerves. “We never agreed to anything. I told you I can’t-”

“Bullshit, that’s what you told me. Everything you said is bullshit. I want nothing but the best for you, we’ve been meaning to do this for such a long time and now that we have every reason to leave, you don’t want to! What’s wrong with you Y/n?” Mark clapped back at you.

A tear dropped down to your feet as you looked at Mark’s reddening face. Your lips trembled in your attempt to voice out your feelings, unfamiliar to your vulnerable state. “I’m scared, Mark,” you paused to sniff your nose, “I’m so fucking scared. For you, for me, for everything.”

Mark’s features softened at your sudden confession. He remained silent, gesturing to you to move on.

It was hard and unusual for you to open up to him like this. You hated the fact that he made you weak, that he had such a strong effect on you to make you eventually do as he says. But there was always this evil little voice in your head that told you not to trust him because, in the end, he would act just like everyone else and leave you.

“Do you know how scared I was tonight? I almost risked my fucking life for you! I had no idea where you were, I didn’t know what happened or why, and you know why? Because you never tell me anything! You only care about yourself,” all your fears and anxieties exploded and the outburst was so big you didn’t know how to stop. And you couldn’t stop even when you took a glimpse of Mark’s furrowed eyebrows and frowned lips, which you couldn’t tell if they were the result of sadness or anger.

You didn’t want to hurt him. But at this state, you couldn’t remain silent anymore. It wasn’t Mark’s fault, but you had reached a point where you couldn’t bottle up anything you felt anymore, so he just had to take everything you said.

You took a deep breath before you licked your dry lips to speak again in a calmer but still bitter tone. “If only you would disappear from my life I would-”

You never completed your sentence because Mark dashed towards you and grabbed you by the neck, squeezing the sides just so, so you could breathe a little bit, his face only a couple inches away from yours. “Shut the fuck up” Mark spat out with a growl which immediately kept you quiet.

His blackened eyes were piercing right through you, his fully black pupils bore into your wavering ones. You stood frozen there, completely locked in your place under Mark’s forceful hold on you, a position which made your lower stomach twitch.

Neither of you spoke for a few seconds. Mark’s face was painted in crimson, his eyebrows fully drawn in together and his nostrils flaring out, as he tried to keep his breathing steady. His angry state scared you even more; not because he would hurt you, but because he could hurt himself. Behind the mask of the angry man he presented himself as, you were the only one who could see the sad little boy who wanted nothing else from you but to love and trust him.

With Mark’s hand still pressing on your neck, your voice barely came out when you tried to speak. “Mark please, say someth-”

Mark interrupted you once again by smashing his lips on yours with the same force he held you under him and the same desperation he hid behind his bloody gaze. You didn’t waste a second, responding in an instant to him, moving your lips to the pace and rhythm he settled. You slightly parted your lips to allow him access to deepen it even more, as he slid his tongue in your mouth to dance with yours.

His presence and strong grip was too much to endure, so you stretched your arms to grab his hair. Mark sensed your need for more support, so he lessened the pressure on your neck and moved his free arm to the small of your back.

The previously quiet room was filled with the lewd sounds of your lips and tongues and the soft grunts and whimpers that left your lips in between each violent connection between them. You hadn’t realized how much you needed Mark, how much you had missed his touch and his burning essence on you until this very moment. Your body reacted to him almost immediately, as you felt your blood flow from your heart down to your aching core.

The heated argument from earlier was now completely forgotten and transformed into a passionate battlefield between two broken souls. Mark's crack infused breath, the bitter taste of alcohol on his dry lips and the lust overtaking his brain and controlling his actions electrified your entire body. There was not a single part of you that didn't want Mark, that didn't desire him and you couldn't help but want more of him.

Your brain, too foggy from the bold emotions and the alcohol you had consumed earlier, couldn't work properly, so your primal instincts took over you entirely. You kept kissing Mark while biting on his lower lip, which resulted in low whines coming out of him, his hardening length growing more inside the pressure of his pants.

You could sense him struggling to keep his cool and you were trying to give yourself some friction too by rubbing your thighs together. You reached your hand down to Mark's pants, cupping his dick outside the thick fabric of his jeans, the teasing action causing him to roll back his eyes.

Mark stopped kissing you abruptly and without wasting any time, he threw you on the bed with all his strength, watching you with hungry eyes. You plopped down on the bed, the sheets creasing at the sudden force and you looked at him with a lustfull gaze that invited him in.

"Wanna fuck you so dumb right now" Mark growled lowly as he took off his shirt from the back of his neck in a swift motion and continued to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving your pleading ones.

You followed along, removing your own shirt and shorts, lying in bed only in your underwear. Mark had now discarded himself completely off of all his clothes except from his boxers, which had an undeniably visible precum stain on them.

Mark's body hovered above yours, connecting his lips with yours for a brief moment before he pulled back to attack your neck, biting and nipping on the spot right under your ear, which earned a loud gasp from you.

His lips kept on abusing your neck area, as you locked your fingers in his hair, tugging and pulling at it with every bite on your neck and chest. The hot sensation of his lips, tongue and wet saliva all over your body made you whimper under him, a sound that made his cock twitch inside his underwear.

Mark traveled lower down to your chest. He slipped his hand behind your back to undo your bra, removing the bra straps off your shoulders eagerly and tossing the piece of clothing somewhere in the dirty motel room. He was quick to attack your hard nipples, dropping his head to suck on one of them, and reaching the other one with his hand, twisting and rubbing it between his fingers.

Your moans and whimpers echoed in the room, the sound and smell of your bodily fluids polluted the small space, everything about the inside of the place being purely filthy.

The heat in your body kept rising and you could feel the stickiness in your panties. You wanted Mark, all of him. You wanted him to treat you however he wanted to, you wanted to please him by giving him all of you and you wanted to feel desired by him.

"Please Mark," you breathed in a soft moan, "please fuck me" your face reddened in your pathetic confession, but it didn't seem to stop Mark from ripping your panties apart, leaving your dripping cunt exposed to the dirty cold air of the room.

Your drowsy eyes and rapid breathing fueled Mark and all his inner needs, as he lifted his body off yours and parted your legs with his hands, pushing your thighs apart. You were breathing heavily in anticipation of his next move, which was a sharp slap to your pussy that sent a strong bolt of pleasure through your whole body. You moaned in pleasure and surprise and Mark repeated his action at the sound of your whiny moans.

"You're a pathetic little slut after all, aren't you?" Mark lowered his head and spat on your pussy, which had you clenching around nothing. "Look at you, begging to be fucked" he brushed one finger up and down your clit, just enough to tease you and elicit a sharp intake of breath from you. "You really pissed me off, you know?" he muttered.

"Please Mark, I want you. I need you so bad, please fuck me" you whined with a high-pitched voice, the one you knew that Mark could never resist, as you pouted your lips at him.

Mark rested his hands on your knees, holding your legs as far apart as possible, so as to have full access to your glistening cunt. His dark eyes were filled with nothing but hunger and lust, unable to control himself any longer from how bad he wanted to taste you. He lowered his head even further, brushing his lips over your clit.

"As you wish, princess" he mumbled to your wet core before he attacked your swollen bud, licking and sucking on your clit with absolutely no remorse.

A loud moan escaped from your lips at the abrupt touch of Mark's wet tongue on your pussy, your hands intertwining in his hair, grabbing and pulling at every licking stripe Mark left on you.

He kept on licking and sucking on your clit, mumbling sweet nothings and small praises, which reminded you more of the Mark you knew rather than the cold and hungry man that was presented in front of you a few minutes ago.

The lewd sounds of Mark's lips and tongue on your pussy mixed with your whiny moans turned him on to the fullest, as he pulled one of his hands away from your knee and dropped it down to slowly pump his dick underneath his underwear.

The burning desire rising up in his body was becoming too much for him, so he pulled away from your clit with one last sucking pop and took off his underwear, setting free his painfully hard length.

Mark positioned himself between your legs and with a swift motion, he turned you over to your stomach, pulling you by your hips so that your ass was higher up towards him.

"Need to fuck you so bad" Mark growled as he smacked your ass cheek with a sharp slap, your pussy clenching at the burning sensation.

"Please, Mark" you whined in the pillow, a tear rolling down your face and landing on the sheets as a response to the overstimulation taking over your body.

The way you kept whining his name and the juices almost dripping down your thighs had Mark gritting his teeth. He gave himself a few more light strokes as he positioned his dick right at your entrance. Without giving you any warning, he dived into your pussy with a sharp stroke.

You shut your eyes in pleasure and gripped the sheets tightly until your knuckles went white as Mark pounded into with sharp rhythmic strokes, each one pushing your head further into the pillow.

Your moans were coming out as crying mumbles as your face was buried deep in the sheets. Mark kept his pace and force, his head lolling back at the intensity of the moment. He kept his one hand on your hip in order to keep you steady while, with the other one, he reached down to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging at it and pulling it roughly, an action that triggered your hot tears to spill from your eyes at the pure sense of pleasure.

Mark's breathing was heavy and sharp at the sound of your soft growns and the sight of your ass jiggling at each stroke he left. "Is this what you wanted, pretty? Me fucking you so good you end up a crying fucking mess?" Mark provoked you in a voice as deep as the ocean, his groans low and hot like the pits of hell.

The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed inside the four walls of your motel room. Mark's hips connected with your ass in an intense force and a static speed, as he hit the spot that always brought you closer to the edge.

"I-I'm close, Mark, p-please" you whined as he gradually took you closer to your limits, your lower stomach twitching in pleasure and your jaw going slack as you felt your climax rising more and more.

"Let this pretty pussy cum on my dick, come on baby" Mark growled and with that, you let out a high-pitched groan into the pillow as your pussy clenched around Mark's dick, the forceful grip of your hands on the sheets was slowly loosened.

You felt Mark's strokes become sloppier as you coated his length with your warm fluids. He quickly pulled out and turned you over so your back was touching the soft mattress. He moved his body closer to you, pumping his dick slowly as he brought the tip to your lips, brushing softly against them as an invitation to take in his dripping cock.

"Open up for me, pretty" his fully blackened eyes bore into your teary ones. You slowly opened your mouth and Mark quickly pushed his cock into it, moving his hips as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on his veiny length.

"That's right, baby. Such a good girl" Mark whimpered as he slowly released into your mouth, his hot cum dripping down your throat. You swallowed all of it completely before he pulled out and laid down on the bed next to you, both of your heavy panting echoing in the now quiet room.

Mark took a few seconds to ease his breathing and turned to the nightstand above his head to search for the pack of cigarettes you kept hidden in the small drawer. He took one cigarette out of the box and brought it to his lips. With the lighter you kept inside that very same drawer, he lit it up, smoke immediately coming out of it. The room now smelled like a mix of sex and smoke, and you winced at the odd yet satisfying combination. Mark took a long drag out of the cigarette and then puffed the smoke into the filthy air.

As soon as you caught your breath, you turned your body towards Mark's, looping your arm around his waist and resting your head on his chest. Mark responded to your intimate touch, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders, stroking your hair lightly. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and then brought the cigarette again to his lips.

After the long and terrifying day you had, you finally felt at ease. Your heart was beating normally, your breathing was steady and your mind was blank. All you could do was savor this moment with Mark, wrapped around his arms and listening to his beating heart, a sound that promised you that everything would be alright.

"Please don't leave me, Mark. I wouldn't know what to do without you" you whispered to him as you slowly drifted away to deep sleep. Mark didn't say anything back. He kissed your forehead again instead and inhaled deeply, exhaling in a long sigh, as his eyes were fixed outside the window, looking over at the bright city lights.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of chirping birds outside your window. From the way the room was illuminated and from the shadows that formed behind every object, you could tell that it was only a few minutes after sunrise, and the bright orange sun confirmed your speculation.

With your eyes still half-open, you stretched your arms above your head and groaned, a soft yawn leaving your pouty lips. You then shifted between the sheets, turning your body to the other side of the bed, moving your arms around in search of the drug dealer’s toned body, the one that hugged you tight to sleep.

“Good morning, Markie” you mumbled, still half asleep. You rested your head on the pillow, still patting the mattress when you couldn’t sense the male beside you. Your eyes widened in an instant and your body quickly adjusted to the awake state. You were focused on the other side of the bed, where the boy you spent the previous night with would be lying sound asleep. Instead, you were met with nothing but tangled bedsheets.

“Mark?” you called again, in hopes that maybe he was in the bathroom and he couldn’t hear you. No response.

You yanked the sheets off you and rushed to the bathroom, opening the squeaky door with more force than you intended. “Mark?” you called, but the calling was in vain.

Maybe he went down to the diner to get us breakfast, you thought. It was still very early in the morning, but the diner never closed during the night, so there might be some leftovers or, if you were lucky, some fresh food at this hour.

So you decided to wait for him, thinking that his whereabouts were probably the old diner. Since you were now fully awake, you decided to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes. It will only be a few minutes, Mark will probably be back by the time I’m finished, you thought.

So you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water fall down your tense shoulders in order to ease your nerves and help your body physically relax. Your mind brought up the memories of the previous night you spent with Mark. You thought about the cop that came to the bar, you thought about the fact that Mark was in serious danger, you thought about your argument with him and how you made up afterwards by having steamy sex, just like every other time.

You didn’t know how to label your relationship with Mark, or whatever you had with him. He was more than a friend but less than a lover. He protected you, cared for you, helped you with any troubles you had and was always there for you, whatever it took for him. And what did you do for him in return? Nothing.

You did absolutely nothing, at least nothing that could compare to what he did for you. And you hated yourself for not being able to pull him out of his misery, even for the slightest bit, when he could even go as far as to move mountains just to see you crack a smile.

You didn’t deserve him; yet you were too selfish to let him go. He was a soul that wanted to fly and be free, but his wings were weighed down by your annoying fears and anxieties for the unknown.

The water dripping down your body suddenly turned cold and you immediately turned off the faucet and ran out of the shower, wiping your body dry with a towel. There was still no sight of Mark, so you quickly put on some fresh clothes and searched throughout the room in order to find your phone and call him.

Your eyes scanned every corner of the room where you could have possibly left your phone, when your gaze dropped to the wooden chair across the bed, the one where Mark usually sat when he played the guitar, only to find a folded piece of paper.

You stepped closer to the chair, picking up the piece of paper and turning it around. With shaky hands, you slowly unfolded it and a shiny bright red guitar pick fell on the floor. You picked it up, bringing it closer to your eye only to recognize it as one of Mark’s favorite ones.

You held the pick between your fingers and sat down at the wooden chair, looking at the wrinkly piece of paper. Written with a dark pencil, you recognized the sloppy handwriting and the small neat letters as none other than Mark’s and you couldn't help but feel your eyes sting in threatening tears as you slowly read and processed each heartfelt word he wrote:

Dear Y/n,

You’re probably reading this because you can’t see me in your room. But don’t bother look, because I have already left for a better, safer life and I won’t be coming back.

So here’s everything I couldn’t bring myself to say last night.

I love you deeply, Y/n. And I know your feelings towards me differ from my feelings towards you, but I’m not scared to hide it. You’re afraid of the power your heart holds and I understand that. For that, I will give you time, as much as you need to learn how to use this power.

I don’t know if I am a strong man or a coward for leaving; that I’m not sure of. But what I’m sure of is my life, and right now my life is in danger. I always spoke to you about how I wanted to have a normal life, to escape from this hell hole and build a different path for me.

Most importantly, I wanted to build this path with you. You’re the only thing that made this hell hole bearable, the only thing that gave me purpose, the thing that made my life have a meaning.

But I took some time to think and I realized that I can’t force you to follow the same path as me, no matter how much I need you or how much I want only what’s best for you.

So I left. I left to build this new path and I will try as hard as I can. I don’t care if I fail, because I know I can keep on trying and, no matter where you are, just the thought of you gives me strength.

I’m leaving you a piece of me behind though. My favorite guitar pick. I want you to have it. You can keep it, burn it, destroy it, I don’t care what you’ll do with it. I just want you to have something to remember me, something that means to me as much as you do.

So, for the meantime, mark me in your heart like I have marked you in mine, and think about what makes you truly happy. If you ever change your mind, you already know where to find me.

Your beloved,

TAGS: @peachjaem00 @matchahyuck @bbyyhyuck @vdollys @positionslab @renjun-fairy @back2jisung @xxxx-23nct @uwuheeseungie @markleefuckme @kittydollzz @kkaye02 @dear-97 @mrkluvv @meloncremesoda @stargrll13 @koyrx @nuttie-nv-blog @markspetal @assholemimi @budibbly @chardonnayyyy

join my taglist here !!

#kflixnet #k-labels #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct mark #mark lee #mark x reader #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct fic #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct timestamps #nct angst #mark lee angst #nct dream #nct 127

1K notes · View notes

gaywineauntsstuff · 6 days ago

Text

Look I’m not the biggest JayRoy fan bc I have shipped DickRoy since I was like 13. However this idea is rlly funny to me.

Bc Dick helped Roy raise Lian in the beginning when he was lost and needed to get his life together.

If Roy and Jason started dating

And Roy introduced her to his boyfriend

And it’s Uncle Dicks little brother.

You think shes calling him anything else???

Like picture this bc once again these. Characters are like 9000 years old and they do not follow the timelines of aging

Lian is born and Dick is helping Roy out in person for a long time, but by the time she’s like 6-7 Dicks very busy with Gotham and bludhaven and new York and him and Roy have had a bunch of falling outs but they’re not letting affect the kid but Dick doesn’t visit as much in person.

Lian is still very attached so Roy will sometimes call Dick on FaceTime and let Lian update him about her life and everything and ramble and for a while that’s the only times Dick and Roy have contact is the text message of

You free Lian misses you?

And Dick spoils the kid rotten, he sends her birthday presents but also half birthday and quarter birthday present. if Roy needs to be somewhere Dick will take her on a trip somewhere just the two of them.

He tells her about his family and Lian becomes obsessed with becoming an acrobat. In the way kids are this gets tacked onto everything else she wants to become

She doesn’t wanna be an astronaut no she wants to be an acrobat astronaut.

She doesn’t wanna be a doctor she wants to be an acrobat doctor.

So on

He tells her cartoon versions of what happens in his life

So the penguin is peddling drugs through the city that he’s purchasing through laundering money with illegal businesses

Becomes

A penguin walked into a laundromat and ate all the Pennies so now he has go find the penguin to get the money back.

And it’s an event when he does come to see her.

She gets so excited and happy bc Dick carries her around all the time and she gets princess treatment 24/7. And he teaches her games they used to play back in the circus and at first Roy was worried bc Dick doesn’t exactly have a scale of normal and he’s not gonna call dick and talk To him but that’s not something they’ve done in years

but then Lian falls off the monkey bars at day care and flips before landing on her feet, perfectly fine.

And when they call him about it they ask about it bc what is a kid doing with flips ofc they’re curious but whatever he is doing? The moms want to know? Is there a class because that could’ve been a really nasty fall and catching yourself is a very good skill to have especially as an active child.

And when he asks Lian if she was scared “no! It’s like game uncle Dick taught me why would I be scared!”

And Roy calls Dick for the first time in years just to talk to him not for him to chat to Lian.

And he asks and Dick just kinda awkwardly admits that that’s how his parents taught him not to be afraid of heights or falls. If you teach kids a life skill through a game they’re less likely to freak in the real life scenario. And Roy is kinda reminded why he became friends with this asshole and why he stuck around and it kinda rekindles their friendship.

And then Roy starts dating Jason and it’s on the DL, bc Jason has issues and Roy isn’t going to introduce someone who isn’t a certain thing to his child. Right.

But things are going well

Very well

And then he decides well fuck it

And they tell people

And everyone is happy for them even Dick despite his very very pained “really Roy my kid brother?”

“Are you gonna give me the shovel talk Grayson”

“God no, you’re a titan which means you’re family which just makes this weird because people I both consider family are dating.”

And then Roy tells Lian

And she is pissed

“Why is Uncle Dicks little brother here”

“Well Lian he’s gonna be around a lot more”

“Does that mean uncle dick is gonna visit more”

“No sweetie but you see uncle dick a lot, Jay over here will just be more around”

“…why?”

“Well because he’s daddy’s boyfriend now”

“Like how Casey’s new mommy and daddy are boyfriend girlfriend”

“Yeah sweetie exactly”

“So he’s gonna be like my new daddy?”

“Well no, unless you want him to but-“

“I don’t”

“What Lian-“

Lian is very angry because she wants her uncle Dick around more and when she told her friend at school her friend said that her new stepmom was around more since her and her friends dad got married

She then logically assumed the ideal way to get her uncle around more was simply to force Dick and Roy to get married.

And since Dick asks for a list of things she wants every year for her birthdays and Easter and Christmas and st. Patrick’s day and All Saints’ Day and Eid and Labor Day and Halloween and holi and Passover and … (no she does not realize not everyone gets gifts on all the holidays that exist, this is very normal to her. Roy had to rent a storage room by the time she was 5)

And Dick has never once not gotten her what she wanted (once she asked to meet the penguin who stole the Pennies and dick took her to the zoo and the showed her the penguin who had a little ziploc baggie of coins tied around its middle-she pointed out that he still had the Pennies and dick said that he felt bad and let him keep just a few)

So anyway she was gonna ask for them to get married on her Christmas list but she wanted to ride a pony and so she was gonna add it to her 1/4 birthday list but now her dad is ruining it because she knows you have to be boyfriend girlfriend before you get married and this is not fair.

So she has a parent trap style vendetta against Jason. He is Meredith Blake.

And Jason who loves little kids is devastated bc his boyfriend’s kid does not like him.

And Roy is confused bc Lian and never acted like this ever.

And Dick has no idea what’s going on bc Lian is eternally an angel with him bc he has gentle parented the shit out of her and also bc he will never see anything she does as wrong ever he knew her when she was a baby that young lady is perfect if you say a derogatory word against her he’ll steal your knee caps.

And one day Lian calls him from preschool and is like “daddy is busy he wants to ask if can you pick me up” and Dick of course says yes because they’ve done this before and sometimes you only have time to make one last phone call.

So he picks Lian up.

And Roy gets there and freaks bc where the HELL IS HIS CHILD. And bc he’s a hero he assumes his identity is compromised and calls Ollie and everything is on lockdown and WTH his going on.

And like 8 hours later Dick calls him and he almost doesn’t pick up and Jason is trying to calm him down and they’re all tracking her but on a whim he answers cuz maybe Dick can help find his baby.

“Hey Roy any ideas when you’re coming to pick Lian up or should I take a day off work tomorrow?”

“What?”

“Dude are you okay you sound wrecked what the hell happened”

“Lian is with you?”

“Yeah- what’s happening Roy?”

“Why is LIAN WITH YOU?”

“She…called me to tell me you were busy and needed someone to pick her up.”

“I-“

“Roy is everything okay”

“She- she called you?”

“Yeah? from the school telephone the same way she does Everytime you have a mission. Roy brief me? Are you okay? Is? Is Jason alright?”

“Can- put Lian on the phone right now.”

“Roy-“

“NOW GRAYSON!”

“Yeah sure okay”

“Hi daddy!”

“Lian why did you ask Dick to pick you up?”

“Yep!”

“Why?”

“Because you were busy”

Deep inhale “who told you I was busy”

“You did”

“I did not-“

“Yeahhh u did, you said you would be with Uncle Dicks little brother”

“What does that have to do with-“

“Go be gross with him I’m mad at you”

“You’re mad at me, young lady I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU FOR HOURS.”

“Why? Just because you forgot about uncle dick doesn’t mean I did”

“Wha- Lian what are you talking about”

They go to Dicks apartment and Lian explains that she is very cross with Roy because he knows uncle dick is her favorite baby sitter and it’s not fair that he gets to marry Jason when Dick is her favorite and since everyone knows that it’s babysitter and dad , boyfriend girlfriend, married. And that’s how Roy finds out that Casey’s new mommy used to be her babysitter and his daughter has been under the assumption that him and Dick were gonna get married since she was four.

And it’s annoying because Jason has never babysat her this whole time and Dick is her favorite baby sitter and he’s dating Dicks brother like that’s the wrong one dad.

Anyway Dick excuses himself to laugh until he cries in his room and Roy is bluescreening while staring at his daughter.

They clear some stuff up but when she’s mad she still calls Jason uncle dicks little brother.

#nightwing #dick grayson #roy harper #Jason Todd #jayroy #dickroy #lian harper #she is a menace #crack #shitpost #she gets the menace from her mom #and dick #and Roy #they’re all menaces #did they expect to raise a normal child

96 notes · View notes

newkatzkafe2023 · 29 days ago

Note

For the "Spooky Season", what about a Frankenstein Male Reader x Sun Wukong?

Like, in the book He's described as abnormaly handsome and inteligent, and the only reason Victor didn't take care of him was because he got the wrong eye color for his creation (I'm not even joking, go see the "Overly Sarcastic Productions" video about this Bad boy)

So, I'm wandering like, what If the reader, After being abandones by they "father" acidentally found Wukong and, since they Monkey King was the only one kind with him since he was "born", reader is just almost a Yandere (borderline Yandere) with the tought of protecting his lover.

Abandonment issues x Abandonment issues🫂

youtube

(Lmk Wukong) Your eyes are his favorite part of you. He found you wondering around Flower fruit mountain and ask how you got in his home and why. You told him your story of how you were abandoned by your father because of your looks, which secretly pissed him off to the max. So much that from that day Wukong kelp you in his home where you could do whatever you please except leave him. With that you felt it was your duty to watch over and protect him, going as far as to stalk him around the island. It was like Wukong knew you were watching him as most of the time you would find him half naked or sleeping nude, he knows you want him so come and get him.

(NR Wukong) He was kind alright not to mention flirty as all hell, He loves your big beefy muscles and hot face. He met you in the back of the bar when he was harassed by people who lost to him in poker, and that's when you stepped in. Wukong had sat there and watched you straight up slaughter the group of demons and had hearts in his eyes along with letting out a purr, as he saw you covered in blood. Wukong beckoned you to follow him under the guise of him thanking you, next thing you knew you were both in bed as he offer you to stay with him. Which you agreed to as you were abandoned by your father and had no where to go, and from that day on you were his unofficial house husband who would stalk him whenever he had to leave and vice-versa for him.

(MKR Wukong) He met you in a abandoned village on his journey, You were the only one living there especially when people and demons would scream at the sight of your face. Wukong was the only one to spot you, he was cautious of you but as soon as he saw those beautiful mixed-matched eyes he was wrapped around your finger. After a bunch of boring lessons from the Monk he would sneak off to see you and he would have you follow him secretly as he beckoned you along. You were like his big beefy and beautiful Guard Dog and he loves you for it.

(HIB Wukong) Oh man, he understands the feeling of being judged for your looks better than anyone, and it's painful despite never showing it. Wukong met you after you beat up a cruel demon who was harassing you and it when you saw him you called him.....Beautiful. Wukong was shocked and you too were together ever since, he quickly noticed how protective you are of him which was similar to his protective nature of his kids. You both seem to share his paranoid so you both buckle down on security and take turns guarding you little family together.

(Netflix Wukong) Also knows what it's like to be judged horribly, and might have some abandonment issues as well. He would never do something like that to you especially when you been nothing but loving, kind and caring to him. He tends to blush around you as you would display abnormal amounts of strength and made it hard for him to Concentrate. He also loves how protective and deadly you can be when someone insults him and would reward you with a kiss. Wukong soon became obsessed with you over the years as you were of him and found himself protecting you just as brutally as well.

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh he's so taking advantage on of this all of this, Wukong found you after a fight and immediately had dark mildly toxic thoughts when he saw your handsome hot face. Your strength and brutality was a sexy quality to him especially in an act of protecting him. Wukong in the meantime would fill your head with Lies about the outside world and tell you the only one you can trust is him. That he would never hurt you and that the world is cruel and scary, telling you that he knows what's best for the two of you. As a married couple so you don't have to worried because he'll protect you too.

(Destined one) Just as protective of you as you are of him especially in battle. You both would silently spill blood upon your enemies whenever someone had messed with the other. The Destined one found you to be sweet and intelligent, while you found him to be kind and quiet. You were a match made in the heaven and you would never be apart less people want to feel your combined wrath.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #black myth wukong #the destined one x reader #frankenstein #happy halloweeeeeeen #frankensteins monster #top male reader #x male y/n #male wife #male yandere

100 notes · View notes

pluto-supremacy · 9 months ago

Note

YOUR VI JAIL FIC WAS SO GOOD AND THE HEADCANONS WERE SO SO ACCURATE. :'( IF POSSIBLE, CAN YOU MAKE A P2 TO HOW THEIR LIFE IS OUTSIDE OF PRISON WHEN THEY MAKE IT OUT? or an angst with caitlyn being blackmailed by the warden to only let one prisoner out? :3 said one being vi, and vi having to abandon reader?

Vi Fic: Bye Bye Bun

➼ Aaaah thank you so much! I'm so glad so many people liked the Stillwater headcanons^^ I was afraid my Vi was going to be soooo out of character. I decided to write some angst first >:) if this fic does well or I get another ask I'll also work on life after Stillwater, give you guys some fluff after this

➼ Continuation of Vi Headcanons: dating f!reader at Stillwater

➼ No beta we die like Claggor (I'm running out of people who die in the series-)

➼ Warnings: None! Bit of a longer fic for you guys today, enjoy!

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

The sound of knuckles meeting hard concrete echoed throughout the cell block, small grunts following close behind. "You know we don't get clean bandages for another two weeks Vi, your knuckles are going to get infected at this rate." you called out. Suddenly the pounding stopped and a small chuckle was heard. "Don't worry about me bun, just trying to blow off some steam," she said, pacing around her cell instead of beating up a wall. "You should really get some sleep. Long day tomorrow"

"No such thing as a short day here." you groaned. Carefully you laid down on the ground of the cell. Vi's was only a few doors down, close enough to talk just above a whisper but way too far away to see each other. Both of you always slept against the walls that faced each other. It was the closest thing to sleeping next to each other in this shithole. Aside from whenever you two napped during free time of course. Even then Vi stayed wide awake to ensure you were okay.

"Goodnight Vi, wake me up if anything happens, okay?" "I will Y/N, I promise"

That was nearly two hours ago. You were sound asleep by now, the cold, hard floor no longer keeping you up. It was something every prisoner in Stillwater had to get used to. Mattresses weren't provided. The few that did get a thin mat to sleep on at night only got one after a lot of medical visits and several notes stating they needed one for medical reasons. You and Vi weren't so lucky to have any notes. Still, there were worse things here. Like the food. That's why any food or snacks that were smuggled in were high value items. Currently you had a packet of chips hidden under a loose brick right where you slept. You scored them a few days ago and wanted to surprise Vi by sharing them tomorrow.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened, the clack of heels filling the halls. Caitlyn stopped in front of Vi's sell, her hood still up. "What the hell do you want?" Vi asked, glancing over at the taller woman. "Your help. You beat up an inmate, I needed to question him about a crime scene from yesterday. Why did you break his jaw?" "Because I wanted to." She responded with a small shrug, disinterested in whoever this enforcer was. "Why are you in here?" Caitlyn tried again, looking over the file in her hands. "For my sunny personality." Vi shot back immediately.

Caitlyn shook her head, sighing. "This was a waste of time." she closed the file and her journal, starting to walk off. Maybe she could find away around a broken jaw, pen and paper perhaps. "Couldn't have said it better myself. Give Silco a kiss for me on that winning eye of his." that was what caught the enforcer's attention. Turning around she walked back to Vi's cell, getting a bit closer to the bars. "Silco? The industrialist?" "Hardly what I'd call an industrialist." She scoffed, leaning against the bars. That's when the other woman held up something that caught her eye.

In Caitlyn's journal was a picture of a spray-painted monkey. Just like the ones Powder used to make. "Where did you get this?" Vi asked, desperation creeping into her voice. "My question first. The inmate worked for Silco?" "Everyone in here does. You of all people should know that. Now where did you find that?" "It was at the crime scene, this is evidence" Caitlyn responded. She had the upper hand here now. "If I'm to believe you about Silco, I'm going to need proof."

A way out. Vi could get both of you out of here. "I can provide you proof. Just, not from in here" she gestured to the bars around her. "And," she began to add on "I need another inmate. Inmate 381. I'm not leaving without her." Caitlyn seemed to consider this for a moment. Then she turn and left without a word. What that meant, Vi had no clue.

Caitlyn had ran off back to the warden, forging papers along the way for the release of two inmates. She needed Vi's help to track whoever this person was down, so if someone else had to come along, so be it. As she put the papers down on the warden's desk, he seemed to lazily look over them. "I have orders to release inmates 381 and 516." she spoke up. He hummed in thought before shaking his head. "I can only release one." "What? It says right there-" "I can read. But I'm only releasing one. Pick." "..inmate 516."

So when Caitlyn returned and opened Vi's cell, she immediately ran to your cell. Or at least tried to. The enforcer stopped her a few steps in. "The warden only let me release one of you. You understand that-" "No I don't! This wasn't part of the deal!" Vi went to grab the collar of Caitlyn's dress, the other wrapping her hands around Vi's wrists as she was pressed against the wall. "You will-" "If you try anything I will make sure you're put back behind bars and you never see that other inmate again." Cait rushed out. It wasn't what she wanted to resort to, threats, but it seemed to work.

Almost instantly Vi's grip loosened, slowly setting Caitlyn back down on the ground. Leaving you...

"Once we're done, you let her out. Immediately. No excuses, exceptions, or delays. And I get to say goodbye." Vi demanded. That was fair, anyone could agree to that. Thankfully Caitlyn began nodding, dusting her dress off. "Go ahead then. Afterwards we need to get going to the Undercity."

This was going to hurt.

Vi walked over to your cell, kneeling down at the bars. You were still all curled up, dead asleep. She gently knocked on the bars. "Bun..bun you gotta wake up." That was odd. Vi's voice sounded so close...as you opened up your eyes you saw your girlfriend just on the other side of the bars. There was no quicker way to wake up than seeing your lover free from her cell. "Vi! You escaped! How-" you were cut off by seeing Caitlyn standing behind Vi.

"Who is that?" "Y/N, I can explain." "Vi, who is that!" you were shouting now. You didn't even fully realize it. "She's the one that got me out-" "So now you're going to get me out?" you interrupted. Seeing the pain flash on Vi's face told you everything that you needed to know. "You're leaving me.." your voice was barely audible, but Vi caught every word. She could feel her heart shattering as she saw the tears form in your eyes. "It's only for a little bit. The warden wouldn't let us both out, once I'm done helping Caitlyn we're coming right back for you, I promise."

You wanted to believe her. Vi had never lied to you before, why would she start now? Maybe it was the fear of never seeing her again. Or maybe it had to do with the enforcer standing behind her. Caitlyn was beautiful, you had to admit, so what if...

"No, no this isn't right. Vi you can't leave me here!" you shouted, crawling up to the bars and reaching out to grab Vi's wrist. "Vi you can't leave me! Please don't leave me!" the tears finally began rolling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. Vi's own eyes were starting to gloss over with tears. "I'm coming back for you, Y/N. I swear on my life I'm not leaving you. It'll be a few days tops." "What does she," you nodded your head towards Caitlyn "even need help with, huh? What are you going to do for her?"

That cut deep. Vi tried not to take it to heart as she stood up, pressing one last kiss to the back of your hand. "I'm coming back for you." she repeated, steeling herself to actually leave. To not fall to her knees and tell Caitlyn to find someone else. This was your guy's chance of freedom. Even if this hurt you now, it was better in the long run. Everything would be better when you two could be together outside of Stillwater. "Bye bye, bun. I'll be back for you" and with that she turned around and started walking away. Vi knew if she turned around to look at you one last time, she'd never leave.

That's when the shouting started.

"Vi! Vi turn around right now! You can't leave me here!" you were standing up now, having an iron grip on the bars. Almost trying to bend them out of the way so you could run to Vi. Unfortunately you weren't that strong and the bars weren't that weak. "Violet don't leave me!"

Vi quickened her pace, rushing towards the elevator. Your voice was starting to blend with Powder's the day they were separated. It was all too much. She was going to find Powder and come back for you. Everything would be okay, everything would be right. As the elevator doors closed, she heard one last thing. Yours and Powder's voice were nearly indistinguishable from one another as you yelled out:

"TRAITOR!"

#arcane #vi arcane #vi x fem reader #fem reader #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n

195 notes · View notes

shubblelive · 1 year ago

Text

— FRIENDLY COMPETITION

summary : you and tommy have been dating for months, and there's a million things you love about him. however, you're usually not doing that in front of your entire audience. but after a surprising mcc debut, what's one more good thing?

genre : fluff

warnings: mentions of reader breaking a bone as a kid

pairing : cc!tommyinnit x fem!cc!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is tommy's girlfriend

featuring : cc!tommyinnit, cc!philza (mentioned), cc!smajor (mentioned), cc!shubble (mentioned), cc!orionsound (mentioned)

request : I was wondering if you could do a fic where y/n (with fem pronouns) is a streamer and wins her fist mcc and when she wins Tommy comes into her room and is so excited that she won that forgets they hadnt told the internet they were dating and kisses her <3

word count : 1.1k

note : i love writing for tommy so much but unfortunately i don't get a lot of ideas, so whenever i get reqs for him i get super excited. for context, i wrote this around mcc 26 because it's my favourite (i KNOW it's almost a year old at this point, like i said it's my favourite). reader replaces fruitberries on the violet vampires team, he won that mcc with phil, oli and shelby, so you can probably tell why it's my favourite lmao but also i feel like tommy would call you girlfriend in place of a petname, i think it's cute. i hope you enjoy angel <333

When you were six, you broke your wrist. You and a group of your classmates had been out at lunch in the playground, engaged in an intense monkey bars contest when you fell. You didn’t remember much, the ambulance ride to A&E, maybe. Being comforted in your hospital bed as you awaited X-ray results with cuddles and cookies, definitely. Not a lot of pain, not a lot of suffering. You never got back on the monkey bars after that though. Competing with the other kids just felt like a bad idea after that. You learned to run your own race, and you’d been living like that for over a decade.

Your left hand twinged, aching slightly. Maybe it was that the bones never realigned on your wrist, but it was most likely due to the intense keyboard-pressing you’d been doing for the last five hours. You weren’t big on MCC, you were a builder rather than a combative player, and that suited you just fine. You tuned in once a month, sure, but that was mainly to support. You and Tommy had been dating for eight whole MCCs now, and he’d been the one to encourage you to apply.

Your shooting skills were… fine. You knew how to play the game, of course, you’d been playing it for over half your life. You just didn’t do much of it recently, hence the two hour practice you’d taken before the start of the event. The first game had been Parkour Warrior, which happened to be your best. The early confidence boost (combined with the encouraging messages you and Tommy had been exchanging on Discord between each event, unbeknownst to your chats) had helped you - you’d come in second overall. But by the fifth game your team wasn’t even in the top 5. You were nervous, worried about letting your team down but, as Phil rightfully pointed out you had “did the best out of all of us, dude.” You’d been really lucky with your team. Everyone on it was someone you knew at least vaguely. You’d spoken to Phil a bunch since starting your relationship with Tommy, and he’d been a big help. Shelby and Oli, your other two teammates were both complete sweethearts and you’d loosened up massively since the beginning of the event.

Things picked up after SkyBattle, and no one in your chat even noticed when you and Tommy took breaks at the same time (two waterbottle refills and a reassuring kiss that had you on your A-Game for the last hour and a half of the event).

And then came DodgeBolt.

Your shooting skills were fine. Truly, but your entire team getting killed in less than five minutes leaving you and Scott in the arena alone. You were silent, focusing too hard on not dying to even think about addressing your chat. Phil was murmuring encouragement into the VC that you were actively tuning out in an attempt to concentrate. Tommy was sitting at his desk three rooms away, quiet as a mouse. He hadn’t moved in so long that his chat had started spamming lag. He had been trying not to be too obvious about it, but it was you versus the manager of the event engaged in a 1v1 for your first time in the contest. Your hand was cramping and you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard it was painful, but you had an arrow and a shot. Scott had an arrow as well, and you knew that if you left it any longer he’d get you, so you let your instincts take over and let it go.

VIOLET VAMPIRES TAKE THE CROWN!

Shelby was screaming in the VC before you could comprehend what had just happened, and before you could even move arms were around you. Your office door had swung open as your golden retriever of a boyfriend all but lifted you out of your chair, pressing a proud kiss to your lips.

“Oh my god,” you murmured, face hidden in the blue fabric of his shirt. “I won?”

“You won!” Tommy was yelling, grin taking over his face.

You let out a squeal of delight as you kissed the corner of his mouth in return, your temple being peppered with supportive kisses. “I won! Chat, oh my god-” You turned back towards your stream and were suddenly struck with the fact that you were, in fact, broadcasting this live. “Chat. Oh my god.”

Tommy was suddenly very still. You did a double take between your monitor, chat zipping past so fast it was making your head spin, and your boyfriend. You had about three seconds to make a move before it was awkward and you already knew that the cat was out of the bag. You’d be trending on twitter within an hour if you weren’t already.

“Chat, I won!” You turned back to Tommy, wrapping your arms around his neck. Tommy was stiff, but you pressed a kiss to his jawline, right below his ear, out of frame of your camera. “We’re okay, boyfriend,” your voice was soft as you held him, his hands coming up on your back, squeezing you tightly.

That snapped him out of it, and suddenly the two of you were back to screaming. “I’m so proud of you,” you were swaying on the spot, you gazing past his arm to your monitor, evidence of your win right there on your screen.

“I love you,” he kissed your hairline. “Girlfriend.”

He had to get back to his chat eventually and you needed to get back in the VC with the rest of your team members, exchanging congratulations. You hung around on the server for another twenty minutes before excusing yourself and finishing up the stream. You and Tommy had both silently agreed to not address what had happened and you reconvened in the hallway half an hour after the end of the event. Sitting on the sofa, you pulled out your phone and were immediately introduced to the downside of having a famous boyfriend. His full weight was put on your, your phone slipping out of your grasp and between the couch cushions. He mumbled into your neck. “No twitter. Don’t care.”

Your hands delved into his curls as he closed his eyes. “But-”

He lifted his head off your chest to glare at you and you missed the weight. “Fine. But you’re ordering me dinner after my spectacular win.”

He laughed, rumble of his chest spreading warmly throughout your entire body. “You don’t even need your phone, see. You’ve got me, and don’t worry, yes I called the papers to tell them how well you did. Being a girlfriend gets you perks.”

“Being a boyfriend gets you perks, too.” You point out.

Tommy lifted his head again, only slightly, eyebrows raised. You kissed him one more time and he nodded, content. “I think maybe I win, actually.”

#tommay tommyinnit fluff #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit headcanons #tommyinnit x reader fluff #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit fanfic #tommyinnit fluff

375 notes · View notes

aphroditestempleimagines · 1 year ago

Text

That fool

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Reader - 18+

Words: 3943

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk reader, Geto is a teddy bear gojo is the mean one change my mind, sex (i promise geto is NOT a dick), fingering, bit of oral sex (fem!receiving), LOTS OF ANGST, name calling (princess) but just a bit

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. As you try to drown your sorrow, you bump into your old, now criminal, friend.

Colour: Hot, Forbidden and very angsty

His love series - part 1

Author's note: idk why i wrote this when i'm a gojo simp, i'm in class and i'm bored. Also I'm gonna attempt a mixed pov.

"Is that what you wanted to discuss with me?", the man asked.

"You must understand", Geto responded, "It is the only way to truly eradicate evil from this world"

"It is aggressive and extreme and I will not be a part of it"

The man stood up. The short glass of whiskey fell down as he bumped the table.

"You yourself stood up against the monkey who hurt your son", Geto maintained his calm composure despite the man's reaction to his proposition.

"That was...different", the man uttered behind his teeth.

Geto smiled at the guy's clenched fists. He picked himself up and threw his arm over the man's shoulder. "All I'm saying is", he said firmly, "We keep losing our people to protect a lesser species who is, not just not thankful, but oppressive and prejudiced against us". He leaned in, anger brimming from his eyes. "How is that fair?"

The man lowered his head. Geto raised his gaze for just a second, out of habit. His eyes fell on your figure, lone and ridden with sadness, as you sat at the bar at the other end of the room. His first instinct was to run away; he would have, if you had not raised your hand to order another drink, directly from the young bartender. He leaned back to his potential associate, giving him a warm smile.

"You don't have to decide right away", he told him, "As long as we both keep this meeting confidential you can think on your answer for however long you'd like"

The man's fingers had not stopped fidgeting until Geto gave that small reasurement. A smile of relief adorned his face, yet some stress still remained in his eyes as he nodded and stumbled out of the establishment.

Geto focused his sights on you; your reddened eyes, your slumped form, your unquenchable thirst for liquor. Normally, he would not dream of talking to you again, not after he left Jujutsu High. He had to put everything behind him to move on with his goal. And though he remembered that fateful day he ran away from the crudity of the sorcerers' world as one of the brightest in his life, the thought of your tears and the memory of Gojo's calls were a constant anguish to him even to this day. And there they were, those tears he had feared, even though unspilled they remained so evident behind your tired eyes.

He approached. His legs brought him to you faster than his mind could object. His heart thanked them for it, but still broke a little at the sight of your startled face.

"Fancy meeting you here princess", he pretended to smile. It was quite easy since a part of him rejoiced at the reunion, even though in such saddening circumstances.

"What...ar you doin 'ere?", you slurred your words. You had not realized how heavy your head was until you tried to lift it up. You clutched your forehead. Your heart tightened. The stool was falling backwards. Your hands reached for the counter but it was no use; you could not reach it anymore. Your back hit something hard but it was not the floor. Geto's hands were on your arms as your head rested on his kimono-clothed chest.

"I think you've had enough", he said.

"Let me go!", you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, forgetting for a second that he was the only pillar keeping you from falling. Fortunately, his hold was quite strong. He released you only after he restored the stool to its proper position.

Geto's gaze scanned the room; it was full of them monkeys. He often said there were two kinds of them: money-collecting monkeys and curse-collecting monkeys. But when faced with a lonely drunken soul there came a third kind, the most vile of them all.

"That's it", he said as the hungry gazes collected on your form, "I'm taking you home. Where do you live?"

"I'm not telling you where I live, Geto"

"Is it still at the apartment in Shinjuku?"

Your face turned red. You had gotten that house during the last year of school so it would be quicker to attend emergencies in Tokyo. He and everyone else had helped you move in and you had not moved out since then. "y...yes", you whispered.

Geto was quick to guide your hand around his waist, throwing his around your form. "Just grab on to me", he said plainly, almost in annoyance, "Tell me if you can't walk anymore".

"I can do this by myself", you objected.

"You don't have to", he said, his gaze focused on the darkness surrounding you.

You did not speak as you walked, nor did you speak as you boarded the train from Roppongi Station. He held you close as you walked through the crowded tunnels to change lines in Shinjuku. His outdated attire did not draw nearly as much attention as your hazed gaze and reddened cheeks. You covered your face with your hand and buried your nose in Geto's robes.

"We're almost there", his grip tightened reassuringly around you.

You finally reached your apartment building. Your hands fumbled around inside your purse until they gripped the keys. He helped you open the lock and soon you were in the safety and comfort of your home. Geto stood at the doorway, not moving a step in as you took out your shoes and fell onto the couch. Everything was exactly the same as it was back then. Apart from a few minor items that were replaced after the times wore them down, nothing else had changed. He had not been there since that year. That year that had been the worst of his life. He could still remember Haibara helping out to set up the table, just as he could recall your beautiful smile as you and Shoko chatted while hanging all of the paintings that decorated the walls. Both images made his heart ache. He had not felt any remorse about his decision in years, yet there he was, being pulled in two different directions like he was in those days. And all it took, was one visit.

"Why are you just standing there?", your voice disperced his thoughts. You were rubbing your eyes with your hand. "Just come in", you told him.

He almost did not. He almost ran away back to the temple he had sought refuge in. Perhaps he should have. You were safe now. The only danger to you was he himself. Yet his curiosity won him over. He took off his sandals and went to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water, and him a bottle of sake. He sat on the couch next to you as you gratefully gulped down the refreshment you craved. You left the glass on the table and fell back on the pillows of the couch. He was overcome with the temptation - no, the need - to caress your heavy head as your messy locks fell upon your face. It took all his restraint not to.

"I can't do this anymore", you said. He had not asked a question, but he guessed you were drunk enough to wallow in your own pity.

"Exorcising?", he asked.

"No", you responded, "I know you probably wanted a different answer but...it's what I know how to do. So I'll do it"

Those words poured blood in Geto's clenched fists. That was exactly what Haibara used to say. He knew Gojo was far too strong, and perhaps even far too selfish, to share the same fate as he. But you? You, Shoko, Nanami were among the people he wanted to protect from the foolishness of the life as a jujutsu sorcerer.

"I never thought I would want him to love me. I know he never will", you continued murmuring.

You did not have to explain. This was about Gojo. Ever since High School he knew the two of you were arranged by his clan to be married one day. Gojo took no interest in the idea back then. He thought himself far too young for it. But after all these years was he continuing the same immaturity?

He could not be mad at him. He would never truly be mad at Gojo. He often wondered if he was ever mad at him but the opposite was never going to be true. And yet your tears felt as if they were his own. Your broken heart crumbled onto his hands and he fully knew that if he was the one to hold it initially he would not had dared cause such damage.

"I know at the end of the day it does not matter", you said, "But...it feels like...he's fine by himself. I can never stand at his side and neither would he ever want me to. And I just feel so...alone"

Geto knew that feeling well. He poured himself another glass of sake and gobbled it down.

"No one would care if I disappeared"

"I would", Geto stated. The words slipped his mouth. He looked at you. You had lifted your gaze. It fell troubled onto his face. He cupped your cheek and leaned towards you. His thumb brushed away your tears. "I would", he said again with even more determination. If he could not take the words back he would make sure you understood them. He would make sure you never felt the way he did back then.

You grabbed his kimono and pulled him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and desperate but at the same time everything you needed. He hesitated to put his hand on your waist, but he was already reciprocating the kiss. He felt your tears wet his calloused hand and he knew he was nothing more than a replacement. He did not know what you were to him exactly, what you were definitely seared onto his heart. And as he devoured your cherry lips he got even more drunk on the nectar of your kiss; he would have never guessed he could have such an alternative to the curses he forced himself to swallow.

"You're not thinking straight", he breathed against your face as you climbed on top of him.

"I know", you responded, "I simply don't care"

He held you close and kissed you again. His hands traveled up and down your form. The last notes of your perfume enveloped him. He thought of your smile, one of the few things that gave him true joy during his dark days. You both loved Satoru but Satoru was determined to prove he was better off alone. Would he hurt him if he slept with you? A part of him wanted to, wanted to get revenge for staying true to the jujutsu world, for making you cry, for everything. And a part of him could not. But he could not push you away either. He could not be the cause of more tears. He could not be the reason you did not find your smile again. And most of all, he could not cool down the feverish heat that overwhelmed him as your body pressed against his.

"Suguru...", you murmured above his lips.

That was it. He could not take it anymore. He flipped your bodies so that your back hit the couch cushions. He nibbled your neck as his hand hiked up your black dress until it was scrunched over your hips. His thumb pressed on your bud over your panties and traced small rough circles. He tried to pull the neckline of your dress down but he just could not stretch it down enough. In a swift move, he reached for the hem around your waist, pulled the dress over your head and threw it on the floor.

Your body trembled at the sudden chill. You reached for his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss, your hands undoing his long black hair. His locks fell on the sides like a curtain.

He was kissing your chest. His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and glided over your clit. Your hands got tangled in his hair as he pressed one of them past your lower lips.

"Always the idiot", Geto murmured as he kissed you between your breasts, "He'll never change".

Your body trembled as he dexterously thrusted his digits inside you. Your hands blindly searched for the tie of his belt. Geto used his free hand to pull open his robes until he could shake them off his shoulders and let them hang from his waist. You traced the faded scar on his firm chest. He placed his hand over yours and brought your palm to his lips for a gentle kiss. He kept your hand close to his cheek, relishing its touch with closed eyes.

"Don't ever say things like that about yourself again", he said firmly, "You're the best our world has to offer"

A few tears escaped your eyes. Geto noticed and kissed them away before adding a peck on the bridge of your nose. He moved his fingers more meticulously as you climbed in ecstasy. Your heaving breath exploded against his face, his eyes blazingly observing your heated expression. The spring of the coil was being twisted more and more by the minute. He gave you a quick kiss, hiked your leg over his bare shoulder and pressed his mouth against your clit. You moaned his name out loud before you came on his fingers. A subtle smile formed on your lips, pure and simple. Suguru could relish that smile for all eternity.

He climbed back up until he towered over your body. Your arms wrapped around his torso as he kissed you deeply. You were so beautiful; even more than he could remember.

"Suguru", your name left his lips again.

"I never realised how much I missed hearing you say my name"

Your hands reached for his belt again. "I want you"

"Not as much as I do", he aided you in undoing it. He threw his robes next to your dress. He gave you small kisses as his dressed length pressed on your entrance. "Tell me if it hurts".

You fisted his hair as he entered you. You did not stop him until he had bottomed out. He continued kissing you reassuringly, one hand massaging your tailbone, the other holding your leg around his hips. He was kissing your neck now, waiting for you to catch your breath.

"Don't be nice to me", you told him, "I don't want you to be nice to me"

He laughed. "Yes, you do", he lightly nipped at your collarbone, "And you always get what you want"

Soon the room was filled with your sounds of pleasure as Suguru's hips met yours in a passionate dance, tuned to an intoxicated melody. His cheeks had grown hot; yours had too.

"You're so beautiful", he breathed. There was a battle going on in his mind. He had loved a lot of people. He kept a list in his mind of those he wanted to protect, those he wanted for sure to be in his new world. You, Gojo, Nanami, Shoko...He loved all of them equally; or almost. You and Gojo were always a little higher on the ranks. But this? This was a new you he was seeing for the very first time and he was intoxicated. All the have-nots and could have been in his head were suddenly turning into a plausible reality. If only he could keep you with him. If only he could have you by his side, every day he woke up. He had chosen to leave so he would not burden any of his friends with the cruelty of his mission, but the prospect of the happiness he would gain by just gazing upon your face every day was too tempting to pass.

Yet there was another thought trying to force its way into his mind. 'If I could become Satoru Gojo for a moment, the dream would be achievable'. He was hurting him by being with you. He had taken one of the many things bestowed upon that man that he ungratefully scorned. And as much as it pained him to cause Gojo anguish, a part of him thought of it as well-deserved for his foolishness. Maybe he would finally mature and appreciate everything he had been given.

"Suguru!", your moan pulled him back into reality.

He held your sweated cheek. "Come for me, princess", he said and lowered his voice and lips close to your ear, "If you want to use your legs tomorrow that is"

Your hands gripped his hair again. Your walls clenched around his length. He grunted as he felt them squeeze him. "Two can play this game, princess", his hand rubbed fiercely on your bud.

Your breathing turned irregular. Your vision turned hazy. All there was was him and nothing else. Your thoughts were overcome with the knot in your stomach, threatening to break any minute.

Your head fell back as you came with a loud moan of his name. He followed soon after. You could feel his tired breath explode on the skin of your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder. You brushed his hair with your fingers. He planted soft kisses under your hairline. He sat up for a moment to put on his boxers, burning the condom into nothingness with a spell. He pulled your tired body against his as he lay on the couch, his arms wrapping around you.

"Y/n", he called your name softly.

"Hm?", your ear was pressed on his bare chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

He cupped your cheek to guide your gaze to him. He wore a genuine smile for the first time in years as he caressed your face. You could not help but return it. He planted a kiss on your forehead, his hand diving under your locks.

"No one deserves your tears", his low voice whispered next to your ear, "But if you have to spill them, let them be mine"

He picked up his robe and threw it over your bodies like a blanket as you drifted off to sleep.

*****************************************************************************

When morning came, Geto woke up alone. Y/n's warmth still lingered over his body as he blindly searched for her with his sleepy eyes. His ears finally focused on the sound of running water. He smiled. They had not taken a shower last night so it was only logical she would do it first thing in the morning. He sat up on the couch, pulling his robe properly around his body. His gaze ran around the small apartment. Memories of your life were carefully placed all over the walls, the counters, the tables. He walked up to a dresser at the back of the room, probably storing all the linen needed in the living room-dining room fusion. Two photographs were placed on it; one with your class and Nanami's class, happily drinking together at Shoko's birthday party. The other one was with you and Gojo; smiles much subtler as you posed for an engagement picture.

Gojo's glasses were different than the ones Geto remembered. It must have been a more recent picture. He smiled as he admired your beautiful face, all dolled up for the photo. Then his eyes fell on Satoru again. His face turned serious. He missed him, that was sure. But he had grown accustomed to hating him, knowing he was probably hated back. He had grown accustomed to blaming him, knowing he was being blamed back.

He looked more carefully at his glasses. He could just see the shiny blue of his eyes underneath. His own eyes opened wide. Gojo's gaze was on you. The smile he wore was not fake at all; Geto would have recognized it. It was clear as day he had feelings for you. Yet you were not lying about your broken heart either. His eyes watered. He had thought he would be happy hurting Gojo's pride, but his heart was too much. He left the picture on the dresser and walked to your bedroom. He knocked on the door. Your voice called him in. One look at you and he lost all the words he wanted to say. He wanted to stay with you. But doing that would hurt Gojo. And if he chose to leave and spare Gojo from further pain, he would strike your heart at a moment when it was already bleeding.

"Last night", you drew his attention, "It was a mistake"

Those words were a knife through his chest. You kept your back turned on him as you lazily dried your hair with a towel.

"I wasn't thinking straight"

"You said you didn't care"

"I was wrong", you told him.

Suguru walked towards you. "You were not. I...I missed you"

"Don't lie to me. You just wanted to get back at Gojo for once", you spat. You cursed your lips the moment the words left your mouth. Suguru remained silent. "You won't even deny it?", you asked, "Geto"

"Suguru", he corrected. You sat there in silece for a moment. "Y/n", he finally spoke, "Look at me"

You shook your head.

"Please", he said again, "Look at me"

You slowly turned to face him. He had known he had guessed it right. The tears were back to flowing from your eyes, and this time he was the cause. He had made the wrong choice. All he had wanted was to bring you to smile.

"What brought this on?", he asked calmly.

His face was as it had been in your school days; calm, composed...kind. You could not help but answer him, even though it would be an unpleasant thing to do so. You reached for the small radio next to your bed and turned it back on to the station you had been listening to. You waited for a while before the newsman returned after the break and continued with more details on the newest strange mass attack on humans that took place in Tokyo the night before.

"That was your friends, right?", you said, your lips trembling even though you knew the answer.

"Yes", he said, "There was a cult forming with knowledge of our kind. I had to eliminate them"

"Do you hear yourself?", you cried as you shot up on your feet, "What did these people even do?"

"It's not what they did, it's what they most likely would have done"

"Get out", you spat. Your voice cracked as you repeated those words again and again.

Suguru did not move. "I will", he said, "But I want you to know, I've never said a single lie to you. And I never will"

You were covering your face with your hands as you cried and so you neither heard nor saw him approach. You startled as he placed a soft kiss on your head.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, "It was never my intention to cause you pain".

"That hardly matters"

"I know", he said. "I know", he repeated it one more time as he touched his forehead to yours.

He turned to leave but stopped right before your door. "If you see Satoru", he said, "Slap him for me. Then kiss him for you".

"What?"

"He's so immature, you need to slap him back to his senses. Or he'll be too late again"

And with that, Suguru returned to the shadows of Tokyo, far away from the light he had found in the small apartment with you.

#geto suguru #suguru geto #geto x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #getou suguru x reader #jjk suguru #jjk angst #geto #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru x you #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #suguru geto smut

307 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie x Henderson Cousin!Single Mom!Reader Collaboration with @corroded-hellfire 💚

Summary: After your mom kicks you out for having a baby, you move back to Hawkins to live with your cousin Dustin and Aunt Claudia. You've always been able to manage on your own, so when your childhood friend Eddie offers to help, it isn't easy to let someone take care of you.

WC: 4.8k

A/N: This was requested by our amazing friend and fellow sister wife, @b-irock! We hope we did it justice.

Also, Reader's race/ethnicity is never mentioned or described. Though she is Henderson Cousin!Reader, she can be interpreted as either a biological or adopted cousin.

Hawkins, Indiana: 1976

You’re standing underneath the monkey bars, hoisting your five-year-old cousin so his chubby hands can grab on to them.

“C’mon, Dusty! You can do it!” You cheer him on. “Just put one hand in front of the other; I’ve got your feet.”

Sure enough, he grunts and grumbles, but little Dustin eventually makes his way across the equipment while you grip his dangling legs.

“I did it! I did the monkey bars!” He cheers when he reaches the other side. “Can we do it again?”

You’re about to begrudgingly agree when you hear commotion from across the playground. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the sandbox, where a curly-haired boy sitting with a shovel and a castle-shaped bucket; a blonde boy, smaller than him, stands intimidatingly over him.

“Jason, stop!” The curly-haired kid calls out.

The blonde kid—Jason, you surmise—simply sneers. “Jason, stop!” he taunts, voice absurdly high-pitched. He laughs when the other boy’s lower lip wobbles. “What’s the matter, Freak? You gonna go cry to your mommy—sorry, your uncle?” And with that, Jason steps on the castle, crushing it beneath his sneakered foot.

You bring Dustin back to the ground before marching over to the scene of the squabble. “What are you doing?” you demand to know, staring right at Jason and crossing your arms over your chest.

Jason doesn’t answer, posing a question of his own. “Who are you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you bite back. “You must be really boring if you have to spend your time picking on people, huh?” Before he can respond, you take a few more steps towards him. “Here, let me make things more exciting for you.” You pull back your leg, kicking up a spray of sand into his blue eyes with a triumphant smirk.

Jason howls, crying as soon as he feels the tiny granules hit his face. “Owww!” he blubbers, fat tears streaming down his cheeks. He tries to run away, but his eyes are still closed, so he trips and falls over the edge of the sandbox.

“Now look who’s crying for his mommy!” You call out as he picks himself up and traipses across the grass. You can hear the other kid giggle, and you turn back to him. “You okay?”

He nods. “Yeah, ‘m okay now.” He picks up his shovel and starts digging again. “I’m Eddie. Y’wanna play with me?”

You introduce yourself and gladly accept his invitation, calling your cousin over so he can join. Eddie doesn’t seem the least bit upset about playing with a five-year-old; he spends most of the time crafting elaborate stories about the brave knights and dragons guards that live in the castles he’s building. The three of you play until the sun begins to set, signaling that it’s time to return home.

“Come back tomorrow and we can keep playing, okay?” Eddie says as you all part ways.

“We’ll be here!”

That’s how you made your first friend in Hawkins.

Not only did you come back the next day, but you went to the park as often as you could to play with Eddie. Sometimes Dustin would join you or sometimes you’d just ride to the park on your bike yourself. After the fifth time the two of you had spent playing in the sandbox and on the playground, Eddie comes up with a question for you.

“Every time you come here you have pigtails. Why?”

“Huh?” You frown and turn your head from side to side as if that would give you a better view of the hair on the sides of your head. “Oh, I dunno. They’re easy and they keep my hair out of the way while we play.”

“I’m gonna call you Pigtails,” Eddie tells you, a proud smile on his cherubic face.

“I’m still gonna call you Eddie.”

Eddie laughs and there’s a buzzy feeling in your stomach that you’ve never felt before.

You became great friends with Eddie. Not just at the park, but you started biking to one another’s houses, eating lunch together at school, and even having pretend adventures in the lush woods of Hawkins. But one day when you were thirteen, you had to tell Eddie that you were moving away because your parents are getting a divorce. He was sympathetic to the pain you were going through, but devastated at the fact that you wouldn’t be there for him to spend time with anymore. His favorite part of the day is seeing you and he feels like it’s being ripped away from him like a stubborn sticky bandaid.

Your new town wasn’t a bad place to live. You had nice neighbors, made friends easily at school, and noticed how much happier your mom was. But there was no Eddie.

Hawkins, Indiana: 1986

Ten years later, Hawkins becomes your home again. Having your mom and stepdad kick you out of the house wasn’t great, but you didn’t want to be there if they were going to treat you like shit anyway. Just because you have a son now, they’ve decided they want nothing to do with you.

“What will people say?” Your mom often wondered aloud. As if strangers' comments mean more to her than her own daughter and grandson.

Hawkins is a better environment to raise Jett up in, anyway. Better schools, nicer town, friendlier people. Plus, it’s where your favorite aunt and cousin still live. Aunt Claudia welcomed you to come live with them with open arms. She was nothing but loving and kind and gracious. Dustin was excited to have a baby around—he’d never really interacted with any before. Your younger cousin, after making sure you knew he was truly psyched about you both coming to live with him, asked why you weren’t going to live with Jett’s father, though. You know it’s just an innocent question. Curiosity always gets the better of Dustin. It’s hard to think about, but you told him the truth; Byron is a total douche and wants nothing to do with having a son.

You’re sitting in the rocking chair, feeding Jett his afternoon bottle, when there’s a knock at the door. Dustin’s on the phone with his long-distance girlfriend, Suzie, and Aunt Claudia’s at work, so it’s up to you to answer it. You throw the burp cloth over your shoulder and adjust your son so that his head is fully supported in the crook of your elbow.

Peering through the peephole, you see a tall, lanky man standing in front of the door. He’s got a shopping bag in one hand and he’s tapping his Reebok-clad foot against the floor.

His hair is much longer than the last time you saw him, and a five o’clock shadow covers his cheeks, but you’d still recognize him anywhere.

“Eddie?!” you ask excitedly as you use your free hand to open the door. Despite your exhaustion, a huge grin tugs at your lips.

His soft brown eyes light up. “Holy shit, Pigtails! Dustin told me you were coming back, but I didn’t realize you were already here” He looks down at the blanket-swaddled bundle in your arms. “Is this…”

You nod. “This hungry little guy is Jett Henderson,” you announce proudly, bouncing gently to keep your son in good spirits. “Named after the badass Joan Jett, of course.”

“Grunge girl, huh?” Eddie cocks his brow and smiles, offering Jett his ringed pinky, which he readily grips on to. “Hold on, I have something in my van for you.”

Before you can ask questions, he’s bolting out to his car, returning with something clutched in his hand. “Sorry, I didn’t get to wrap it…” he mumbles, but you just shake your head and take it from him.

It’s a tiny onesie, the white Metallica logo printed on black cotton. You feel your eyes well up with tears, already overcome with emotion at the sight of your old friend, and now he brings you a gift?

“This is…you didn’t have to…” you choke out. You lightly bounce Jett, though you’re not entirely sure whether you’re comforting him or yourself.

“‘Course.” Eddie smiles, letting the baby hold his finger again as he muses, “I can’t believe my Pigtails is a mom.”

My Pigtails. The descriptor in front of your nickname makes all the difference, though you try not to let it show.

“Eddie! You’re here! Did you bring the DM—” Dustin loudly calls from behind you, startling both you and Jett. Your baby boy immediately starts wailing; it’s quite an impressive feat for someone with such tiny lungs. Dustin cringes when he realizes his mistake. “Shit, I’m sorry—”

You shake your head “‘S okay,” you mumble, speed walking towards the spare room you and Jett share to try and stop his cries. It most certainly is not okay, but you don’t want your cousin to feel guilty. He and Aunt Claudia have already helped so much by taking you in. The last thing you need is to alienate them.

There’s a gentle rap at the door, and you murmur, “Come in.” You assume it’s Dustin, but Eddie stands there instead.

“Hey, Pigtails? And Jett?” he starts timidly, looking at the screaming infant in your arms. “Would you both wanna hang out tomorrow? Go to the playground or somethin’?”

No, you want to shout. No, we don’t need your pity; we’re doing fine, just the two of us. But there’s a hopeful look in Eddie’s bright eyes that makes him impossible to refuse. “Y-Yeah, sure. Ten o’clock?”

Eddie furrows his brow. “Kinda late for a baby to be awake, right? Plus, those no-good teenagers always cause mischief at night in that park.”

You laugh. “Ten o’clock in the morning,” you tell him. “Think you can get up that early?”

“For you two? Of course.”

Eddie knocks on the door at 9:45. You’ve been up for hours by this point, but from Eddie’s bleary eyes and the coffee cup clutched in his hand, you’d venture that he hadn’t been awake all that long.

“Good morning, stranger,” you greet him. “Look at you up and about before the crack of noon.”

“I’d flip you off if I couldn’t see that I’m being watched by an infant.” Eddie nods his head behind you and you look over your shoulder to see Jett in his baby swing, swaying gently from side to side as he watches Eddie with eyes more alert than your friend’s.

“Yeah, and he’s a snitch,” you say, turning back to face Eddie. “He’ll rat ya out first chance he gets.”

“I’ll have to stay on his good side then.”

“What’s up, Eds?” You side step so Eddie can come inside, which he does as he takes the last swig of his coffee.

“Thought I’d come by and give you guys a ride to the park,” he says.

There’s a giggle on the tip of your tongue and you have to bite your lip to keep a smile at bay. Eddie has always been one of the sweetest people you know. It’s no surprise that he was thoughtful enough to pick you and Jett up. There was just one little problem.

“I really appreciate that, Eddie.” You pick your keys up off of the counter and toss them to the sleepy man. He manages to catch them despite fumbling them twice. “But you’ll have to give us a ride in my car because I don’t think your van has the appropriate equipment to secure a car seat to.”

Eddie hangs his head, making some of his curls sway from side to side. Now, you do let out that giggle. With a sigh, Eddie picks his head back up.

“Duh. Gotta make sure your mini me is safe.”

“My mini me?” you ask as you unbuckle Jett from his swing. He whines in protest, his swing being his favorite thing in the world. But once you begin to walk, the calming motions quiet him again.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “He looks just like you. Look at him, he’s gorgeous.”

You’re not sure if Eddie realizes what he implied or not, so you don’t say anything, just hum to yourself as you slip the strap of Jett’s diaper bag over your shoulder.

“Here, let me get that.” Eddie swoops in and takes the bulky bag from you, hefting it onto his own shoulder. “Christ, what the hell did you put in here? Rocks?”

“Diapers, wipes, spare clothes, bottles, burping cloths, pacifiers—”

“Jesus,” Eddie cuts you off. “That’s more than I’d need for a week’s vacation.”

“Not all of us can turn our underwear inside out and wear them for a second day, Eddie.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, exasperation dripping in his tone. “You’re never going to let that go, are you? I was eleven and I didn’t bring enough pairs on the camping trip. I regret ever telling you that.”

You let out a giggle that has Eddie practically swooning as you reach your car. The gentleman that he is, Eddie opens the back door for you so you can situate Jett in his seat. In a less gentlemanly fashion, he stares at your ass as you’re bent over into the car.

The drive to the park is quick, even with Eddie “slowing down” because there’s precious cargo in the car. It’s still faster than you would’ve gone, but it was a definite improvement for him. The park is mostly empty when you arrive. A few ladies are speed walking in velour tracksuits, there’s a dad trying to help his son fly a kite, and there are two other parents with their small children on the playground. The sun is bright so you slip a little ball cap on your son. It’s one Dustin bought for him, a perfect miniature version of one of the many hats he wore over his curly locks.

“Have you ever brought him here before?” Eddie asks as the two of you make your way towards the swings.

“No. He hasn’t seen a whole lot of Hawkins, to be honest.”

“You’re not missing much, buddy,” Eddie tells him.

There are two baby seats on the long swing set and you tuck Jett into one with his blue and white blanket around him for extra cushion and protection. Your son looks up at you with what you take to be an unimpressed glare.

“Don’t look at me all grumpy, mister,” you say to him. “You don’t even know what these things can do.”

Jett lets a few drool bubbles spew from his mouth in response. Eddie chuckles as you playfully roll your eyes at the boy. Jett slides his stare from you to Eddie, and it seems like he locks in on your friend. Eddie gives him a little wave, but the infant just keeps on staring.

“Maybe he likes my hair,” Eddie suggests.

“Maybe he just likes you. Hard to imagine, I know,” you tease. Eddie starts to make silly faces at your son, and a smile tugs up the corners of his little precious mouth. Jett seems enamored with Eddie and you can hardly say you blame him. “Do you want to push him, Eddie?”

“Huh?” Eddie ceases his goofy faces and looks back at you.

“The swing,” you say, gesturing towards your son in the seat. “Do you want to push him?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. As long as you don’t mind.”

“I’m the one who suggested it,” you remind him with a playful smirk. He gives you a teasing shove before walking behind the swing set.

It’s the most apprehensive you can ever remember seeing Eddie. The concentration on his face makes it look like he’s doing the physics in his head of how hard he should push the swing based on Jett’s body weight and the current speed of the wind. Finally, he gives the swing a small push and your son begins to rock back and forth.

Jett looks a little alarmed to be moving at first, but he quickly realizes this is the same sensation as his swing at home, just front and back instead of side to side. It makes you strangely emotional to watch Eddie push your baby on the swings. It’s a surreal thing. Sometimes it seems like you had two lives; one before you left Hawkins and one after. This is the collision of those two worlds—and the very best parts of those respective worlds, too.

“Does he like it?” Eddie asks you.

“Jett,” you say, bending down to be closer to his eye level. “Are you enjoying yourself? Is Eddie doing a good job? Or do you want me to fire him?”

“Ha ha, you’re so fucking funny,” Eddie deadpans.

“Hey,” you tease with a smile. “Watch your goddamn language around my kid, you motherfucker.”

Well shit, you think to yourself. I want him to be a motherfucker if the mother he’s fucking is me.

“You hear the mouth on your mom, Jett?” Eddie asks. “You’d think she grew up with some trailer park trash kid as one of her best friends.”

“Hey,” you say, tone turning serious. “You’re not—”

“I know,” Eddie cuts you off, giving you a shit eating grin. “Just wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

“Like the time you told me that Shaun Cassidy was quitting music for good and almost gave me a heart attack?”

“Exactly like that.” The devious smile on his face should be annoying, but it’s somehow sexy. “I hope you have some better taste in music now.”

“Oh yeah, my taste in music has definitely matured. Once you become a mom, you automatically start loving all the oldies. That’s something they never tell ya about until you get pregnant.”

“I’ll loan you Wayne’s Elvis records,” Eddie quips.

“You assume I don’t already have my own,” you joke.

“Jesus,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I’m the only hope poor Jett has at growing up with a sense of what good music is.”

“Do not infect my child with Metallica.” You like Metallica, but wanting to get a rise out of one another isn’t a trait exclusive to Eddie.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie tells Jett as he gives him another push. “I got your back, kid.”

Eddie’s offer to have Jett’s back is put to the test on the ride home. The little boy is less than enthused to leave the playground and, combined with his missed naptime, begins wailing at the top of his lungs as soon as he’s buckled into his carseat.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble, trying to maneuver the straps around Jett’s shoulders as he writhes and wriggles. “It’s okay, baby. I know, you’re so sad, but it’s okay.” Though you keep your voice as even as possible, you might as well be shouting with the way he’s screeching.

“Let me try something,” Eddie says, crouching down so he’s at Jett’s level. He clears his throat and begins to sing.

Baby, let me be

Your lovin’ teddy bear

Put a chain around my neck

And lead me anywhere

Oh, let me be…your teddy bear

Jett’s cries stall a bit, though his sniffles are like aftershocks rippling through his body.

“Keep going,” you whisper, and Eddie nods.

I don’t wanna be a tiger

Because tigers play too rough

I don’t wanna be a lion

Cause lions ain’t the kind you love enough

At the last line, he reaches out and tickles Jett’s pudgy tummy, and your heart soars with relief as your son giggles.

“Y’like when I sing, huh?” Eddie laughs along with him, standing up and facing you with a grin. “Another point for Team Eddie.”

You muster up a smile and slide into the passenger seat while Eddie starts the car. Why was it so easy for him to calm Jett down, but it takes me forever? Am I a bad mom? The thought gnaws at you the whole ride home, and when Eddie drops you back off, you grab Jett and dash through the front door before the tears can fall.

The next day, Eddie approaches your front door hesitantly. Yesterday when he’d come by, you were in a good mood and eager to head to the park. But after the way you left the car with Jett and didn’t say two words to him before going into the house, Eddie’s not too sure what’s going on. He pokes the doorbell with a ring-clad finger and waits as he hears shuffling footsteps on the other side.

“Oh, hi, Eddie.”

His relief was palpable when you don’t seem upset at him for anything, but he’s as equally concerned because he’s sure he’s never seen you this disheveled before. Hair pulled back from your face, an oversized t-shirt and some sweatpants, and large dark circles under your eyes. To him, you still look absolutely beautiful, but he is also aware that these are signals of exhaustion.

“Christ, Pigtails. You look exhausted.”

“Thanks, Munson,” you mumble. “You really know how to flatter a girl.”

Eddie shakes his head as you step aside to let him in. He’s about to tell you that’s not what he meant, but despite your tiredness, there’s a playful glint in your eye that lets him know you’re just teasing him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says. “Here, give me Jett so you can go nap. Is he in his swing?”

“No, m’fine, Eds.” You take a step forward but your body decides to be a traitor and show just how exhausted you are by having your knee buckle. Eddie’s right there to catch you, gripping you tightly and righting you on your feet.

“You were saying?” Eddie strolls over to where your son is laying on his playmat on the floor, legs kicking in excitement when he sees him. Carefully, Eddie picks up the baby and holds him against his chest. “Come on, Pigtails, you need to rest. Jett looks pretty eager to spend time with his favorite uncle anyway.” As if trying to prove, or disprove his point—Eddie isn’t sure which it is—Jett dribbles some drool on the shoulder of Eddie’s gray Iron Maiden tee.

You want to protest further, but you don’t have the energy for it. “Fine. Only let me sleep for half an hour, okay? And if he starts crying or making a fuss, wake me up.”

“I’ve got it taken care of,” Eddie assures you. “Don’t worry.”

The words do nothing to calm your nerves more than telling someone to stop crying would make their waterworks cease.

“Have you ever watched a baby before?” you ask.

Eddie tilts his head from side to side, as if considering your question. “Well, no, but I watch over Dustin and his friends all the time and I think that’s prepped me for any possible scenario here.”

“Well,” you say with a sigh, running one hand over your face. “I let Mike watch him while I ran to the neighbor’s house yesterday, and that scared me more than this does. Just don’t be afraid to wake me up, okay? Even if you think it’s something stupid.”

“We’ll be fine,” Eddie assures you, smacking a wet kiss to Jett’s cheek. “Go ahead, Jett—tell Mommy that we’ve got it all under control.” Jett, of course, says nothing, and Eddie shrugs. “He, uh, pleads the fifth, I guess. Seriously, go rest.”

“Thirty minutes,” you sternly remind him, and he gives you a little salute as you walk to your room. All of your nerves are swimming in your stomach; it feels wrong not to have your baby right by your side. What’s left of your rational brain reminds you that Eddie is capable of watching him, and he’ll wake you up if there’s an emergency. The sleepiness overtakes you. Just half an hour, you reassure yourself, feeling your eyelids grow heavy, your exhausted body sinking into the mattress…

When you open your eyes again, you feel refreshed. Too refreshed for a measly thirty minute rest. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when your glimpse of the clock informs you that you’d been asleep for over two hours.

“Shit, shit, shit!” you grumble, wiping the sleep from your vision. Why didn’t Eddie wake me up? you silently wonder as you pad towards your door. Oh my God, did something happen to Jett? Is he hurt? Sick? Are they at the hospital? Why wouldn’t he tell me if something was wrong?

You’re about to call out his name when you spot something on the floor. It’s a trail of Polaroid photos leading out to living room. The first one shows Jett grinning at the camera, orange baby food smeared over his face. The caption at the bottom reads, “Don’t worry, Mama! Eddie’s got this!”

The next one is just Eddie in his black Metallica shirt, arm outstretched to take the photo, and Jett in his matching onesie. Then there’s Jett with his hand in a gigantic bowl of popcorn—bigger than him—with the TV remote laying on the other side of him.

Eddie and Jett are having a staring contest in the following picture; Eddie’s deep concentration is juxtaposed by Jett’s absolute cluelessness. “Baby’s first staring contest—he won” is written in Eddie’s messy scrawl. There’s a few more of Eddie mimicking your son’s adorable facial expressions, though your favorite is when they’re both showing off a wide, open-mouthed smile.

You pick up another one; it’s your son wearing Dustin’s Camp Know Where hat, D&D manuals strewn around him. “Planning the next sadistic campaign for Uncle Dusty.” Then another from your cousin’s room where Jett is sitting on his cluttered floor, lightsaber in hand.

Jett wearing sunglasses. Jett with a battered copy of The Hobbit—probably Eddie’s own copy—opening it and looking at it as though he’s actually reading. Jett’s hands tangled in Eddie’s curls while he grimaces to pretend that it hurts (at least, you hope he’s pretending; your son has an iron grip these days). Jett holding a pen to Eddie’s arm mid-scribble, as if he’s giving him another tattoo. This one is right above the litter of bats, and you have a feeling the newest addition is Eddie’s favorite.

The last Polaroid before you reach the living room is of Jett sitting in the driver’s seat of Eddie’s van with his hands on the steering wheel. “Ready to hit the road!” You giggle, tears welling in your eyes at the relief that Jett is okay and from the sheer joy of seeing him so happy.

The sound of Eddie talking to Jett interrupts your thoughts, and you crane your neck to listen.

“And then she totally kicked sand in that little punk’s eyes! It was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.” He pauses and clears his throat. “Shit, don’t say ‘ass.’ And don’t say ‘shit.’ But, anyway, she’s always looked out for the people she cares about. I’m not surprised that she’s basically the world’s best mom. Pretty cute, too. Always kinda had a little crush on her.” He whispers that last part, but you still hear it.

Slowly, as not to interrupt their moment, you ease your way into the living room from the hall. Jett’s the first one to see you, over Eddie’s shoulder, and his face lights up in glee. It’ll never get old to you how excited your son gets just by seeing your face. Eddie looks over his shoulder to see what the baby is looking at, but does a double take when he sees you standing there.

“O-Oh,” he stutters. “Hey, you’re awake. How was your, uh, nap?” There’s a pink tinge to his cheeks as he stands up, hoisting Jett up onto his hip.

“Was good,” you say. “Longer than a half hour, though.” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him as you walk forward to scoop your son out of his arms.

“Sorry, I just thought—”

“No, it’s okay,” you assure him. “I saw your little photo shoot. Looks like you two had fun together.” Jett babbles happily in your arms as you bring him over to his playpen. All of his favorite toys are in there so he should be fine on his own for a few moments.

“We had lots of fun, didn’t we Jett?”

The words barely leave his mouth before your lips are on his. Eddie’s stiff against your skin, clearly not having expected it. It’s not long before he sinks into it though; cupping your cheeks in his hands and deepening the kiss.

When you pull away for air, Eddie rests his forehead against yours. You take the moment to notice how beautiful he is this close up. The freckles, his dark eyelashes, his dimples. He’s just as beautiful as when you first developed a crush on him all those years ago.

“It’s always been you, Eds,” you speak softly against his mouth. The grin that grows on Eddie’s face is euphoric and more than a little contagious.

“Pigtails, I’ve been waiting ten years to hear you say that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #requests

717 notes · View notes

dronebiscuitbat · 6 months ago

Text

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 16)

They had done a decent job hiding this all from Khan until this point. The man had been busy fixing a malfunctioning main door and she had gotten quite good at hiding things from him. However that had to end when she was going to be forced to spend at least a couple of days staying in N's apartment, looking after his new daughter.

Khan decidedly did not need to know that her name was also on those adoption papers, and the longer she could keep that hidden the better, as much as N was someone she could let her guard down around, the same couldn't be said about the rest of the bunker, there were already rampant rumors flying around the bunker about her and N, not helped by them walking together with a baby to his apartment she was sure. She didn't need to give them any more fuel.

So now she was near the front of the bunker, looking for her dad to break the news that yes, N did end up adopting the baby they'd literally just told him he wasn't like… a few days ago.

She was sure that conversation was going to go well.

“Dad?” She called out, her voice echoing out in the much larger hall, absent of other people. At this hour, most sane people would be asleep, but not her, and it would likely be a little bit before her old man would want to stop working, that was one of the few things they shared; when a task needed to be done, neither of them stopped until their bodies demanded it.

“Here dronelette!” His voice came from above, and so her head turned towards it, only to find Khan awkwardly wrapped around a pipe, tightening a gasket on Door 2, honestly it almost looked like one of the weird ass positions she would take while writing something that caught her attention.

“How did you even get up there?” She asked, looking around for any evidence of a ladder or a stool and found neither.

“I scaled the pipes! What? Didn't think your old man could climb?” He chuckled lightly without loosing focus, tongue sticking out of his mouth as his eyelights scrunched up

“Uh no, actually.” Was all she said, watching as he worked for another minute before he wiped the nonexistent sweat of his brow and looked down.

Then with a semi-impressive level of balance and grace, jumped down from the rather high ceiling, using the other pipes as monkey bars before landing safely at her side.

Only to wince as his joints made a rather concerning noise.

“Agh, so it's been awhile…” He chuckled again, although this time a little sadly before turning to his daughter with a smile that seemed genuine.

“What did you need?” He asked, and Uzi shook off the strange feeling of awe watching her dad do something that was actually sort of risky like it was normal for him.

Only for it to be replaced by the nervousness of the reason she'd actually sought him out. Great…

“Uh yeah. I was just letting you know I need to stay over at N's tonight…”

Khan looked confused, but a smile still graced his face.

“Is that all? You normally wouldn't come find me for something small like that.”

“And… for possibly the next few days?” She finished, at which then Khan’s face fell, becoming more confused and a little concerned.

“Why's that? N's not sick is he? Can murder drones even get sick…?”

“No! He's fine, well mostly. It's just he needs my help with… uh something.” She was trying to avoid the inevitable. She knew playing the pronoun game with her dad was a habit, but one she'd only truly win if she had a door to slam in his face.

“Which is?” She winced, sweat appearing on her visor as she grinned warily, shifting her fingers together nervously.

“N ended up… adopting Tera. And he needs my help in taking care of her until he gets everything ready for her.”

Khan’s jaw was on the floor, put of all thing he'd expected out of his daughters mouth that was… not at the top of the list; along with “Bite me” or “Mind your freaking business.”

“He told me he wasn't going to.”

“He wasn't, but… Tera has an overheating issue and no one else seemed to want to deal with it.” She tried to explain without concerning him further.

Khan didn't say anything, so she felt the urge to continue impulsively.

“We talked about it, and we agreed that Mrs Rayn is a little too old to raise a baby. And We have a lot of experience with overheating… with him getting his new apartment, we thought…” She stopped suddenly. Realizing she had gone from talking about N to talking about them. As a unit.

“We?”

“I-uh yeah, he talked to me about it first and I talked him through it all to make sure he was serious about it. I-I'm not on the papers or anything!”

She probably could have omitted that last part, but the way Khan was looking at her was making the usually rather quiet part of her brain requiring his approval speak up slightly louder.

She wasn't sure Khan entirely believed her, squinting at her with extreme suspicion, she glanced to the side, eyeing the way she came as if she regreted the entire trek up here.

“If you're just doing it to help them settle in. Wouldn't that only take a few hours? Or a day?” He began again slowly, still processing the sudden information.

“Normally, and that was the plan. But uh, he lacks the hardware to take care of her properly.”

“Rayn should have given him the cable and the bottles, what do you-”

“He doesn't have a side panel.” She interrupted him blunty, pausing whatever he was about to say next

Khan was quiet.

“What?”

“No, you didnt mishear me. He doesn't have a side panel.”

“Everyone has one.”

“He doesn't.”

Khan blinked before he sighed heavily, thinking deeply on everything that was just discussed. He felt one of his hands start shaking, but he gripped it to make it stop.

“I had about the same reaction, but it makes sense, why would a disassembly drone ever need that kind of hardware?”

He nodded at that, before a different thought entered his head entirely.

“How do they raise their kids then?”

At that Uzi paused, she knew N's background, how he used to be a worker drone and had never been a pillbaby. So that thought had simply never entered her mind, but it did get her thinking…

Could N even pass down his code at all? Did it work the same way as with worker drones?

And if it did, what would his kids even look like? White eyelights? Yellow? Would they carry the same traits as a disassembly drone or would they just remain a worker drone?

“I don't think they do…” She answered, she didn't want to expose too much of N's past, that wasn't her story to tell, but her dad had been being… more tolerable as of late. “N was a worker drone before he became… what he is now. So I think all that hardware was removed.”

“He was? What did he used to do?” He asked, head tilted to the side.

“He…” She paused for a moment, deciding if N would mind if she said anything, he was pretty sensitive about his time at the manor; she decided giving him the very basics was enough. “He was a butler, he had white eyelights.”

“White. Huh.”

At that the conversation stagnated, and Uzi sighed, beginning to walk away.

“Now that you know, can I uh… go?” She gestured in the direction she was currently going, clearly not waiting for his answer as Khan seemed to be frozen, processing all of this information.

But he nodded, dumbly. And she took that as her que to book it, not stopping until she was certain that even if her dad wanted to catch up, she'd be long gone. Perfect for making an undetected journey back.

She didn't take the normal way back to N's apartment either, trying to avoid more stares from more judgemental faces, it was somehow worse now than it ever was, at least before they'd done it quietly, too scared to be noticed by her and be met with violence, but they seemed to sniff out her now softened edges, because now some drones didn't bother to hide it.

“Looks like the freak found a boy toy.”

“Of course she'd be freinds with a murder drone, she's all kinds of gross.”

“You think she let's him bite her? She's probably into it…”

One of those came from Lizzy, which was honestly so typical she barely even registered it. (Although she hadn't said anything in awhile, V probably had something to do with that.) But the other two, the one about N being a boy toy and her letting him bite her, were new, and came from a brand new mouth.

She wasn't sure if this particular girl had a thing for N, because both of those were rather strange places for someone's mind to default to, but whatever the case she'd made comments like that rather often, her name was… Chloe? That sounded right.

She was quiet before, Uzi thought, because she was a brand new face and voice for her, orange eyelights and rich black hair that went down to her shoulders. But that was literally the only thing Uzi could remember about her.

And the only reason she hadn't bitten back when she'd heard it was because N had been next to her, oblivious to it all, walking back to her place after the craziness that was prom. She'd also been tired, injured, and freaked out, but those things didn't stop her nearly as much as N's presence.

N didn't deserve that ridicule, not in the least. He was the sweetest guy on the entirety of Copper-9. And yet those comments were derogatory to him too, essentially calling him easy, for Uzi to be able to “get him.”

First. Ew, Not that Uzi wasn't attracted to him, she was. (Not like she was ever going to say anything.) But talking about anyone like that was gross, and this was N, Her best freind.

Second. How dare she drag his name in the dirt with her! She could drag Uzi's name around all she wanted, it would just be treading old ground. But N? He'd done nothing to Chloe, except maybe make her feel things? She didn't know, those comments were so weird and uncomfortable.

She pushed out the thoughts from her mind when she reached N's door, partly thankful for her switch to being a night owl, she rarely saw any of her classmates anymore, except Thad. And when she did it was incredibly brief, when she was turning in her work.

Because yes, she was still going to school. She just did all of her work at home. What else was she supposed to do after murdering half her class? V had taken the blame, but that didn't mean everyone else didn't know the real culprit.

The door swished open, revealing N still on the couch, watching Tera as she rolled around playing with her jingling roll toy, he smiled when he looked up at her, worry leaving his visor somewhat.

“What'd he say?” He asked, motioning her to sit across from him, which she did, her eyes going back to Tera, who rolled over to her, jingling all the way.

“I mean, he asked a bunch of questions. But he didn't stop me sooo…” She flashed him a smirk and he felt his eyes roll, even still his smile didn't leave, instead he tried to relax, keeping an eye on the pillbaby as Uzi picked her up, looking down at her with a small smile.

“She's getting sleepy… do you know where that charger went?” N looked over and noticed that Tera's eyes were substantially dimmer, as well as her normal rolling had slowed down.

He plucked the charger put of the bag and handed it to her, and Uzi began the process of lifting her hoodie and undershirt enough to plug it into herself, thankfully, this didn't time it didn't seem to be painful.

She plugged the normally excitable rolling machine into her side and her eyes immediately brightened, and Uzi's visor immediately filled with a warning, telling her a foreign entity was drawing her power.

She closed it instantly, old JCJenson warnings that no longer applied. The pop-ups were still annoying regardless.

“There you go, happy now?” She asked the infant as if she could respond, and she did, by rolling into Uzi's chest and yawning, before quickly falling into sleep mode.

N just watched, smile never once fading from his face. He'd known that he rather liked seeing Uzi interact with Tera, as she was normally at her softest. But with that added context that this was now his daughter she was interacting with left him with his core full of fuzzy cotton.

“You're really good at that.” He pointed out as Uzi tried to get get comfortable with a baby attached to her, though it was rather difficult, as the cord was quite short and didn't leave much room to menuver.

But she still looked up at him, a small blush on her face that he caught a glimpse of before she turned away.

“Just practice is all.” She waved off, finally giving up on being comfortable and just sitting awkwardly stuffed into the couch with Tera laying on her stomach.

“You're still amazing at this. I would be totally freaking put right now without you being here.” He admitted, trying to make her take the compliment without waving it off, it was probably never going to happen though.

“Your instincts would have kicked in, and you'd get all fatherly on her without my help.” She laughed, and put a hand over Tera to steady her, as the action disturbed her slightly.

“Seriously, you're way better at this then you think you are.” She hummed, presumably to get him to shush about it.

At that moment Tera became unplugged, starting her into a fall off Uzi, rolling off and beginning to plumet to the hardwood floor, N immediately rocketed forward, catching the little pill before she ever touched the ground, even if it left him in the rather awkward position of his legs still on the couch as the rest of him was on the floor.

Tera giggled sleepily before going back into sleep mode, satisfied with her mischief.

“See? You already have the reflexes.” Uzi pointed out and caused N to look back at the pillbaby with a smile.

Maybe he could be alright at this after all.

Next ->

#murder drones #biscuitbites #nuzi #uzi doorman #serial designation n #n and uzi #Uzi gets all her attitude from Nori #but all her gremlin energy from Khan #Khan is trying his best

86 notes · View notes

doumadono · 1 year ago

Note

I just wanna know why so many adult mha smut creators say they age up minors as if it justifies their attraction to them. Would you say it's okay to age up Eri too?

Ah, aging-up fictional characters, my favorite controversial topic! ♥ You know, I was low-key anticipating an anon to drop this kind of question, sooner nor later (what a pity you didn't have balls to come off-anon tho!). I've had my fair share of childish anons before, and trust me, those went straight into the digital dumpster. But hey, this time, I've decided to lay it all out on the table, crystal clear 🙅‍

You know, I've done it all – murder, rape, summoned demons, even glorified Satan and had several children killed in my stories. But guess what? Not a single pair of handcuffs in sight! 😎 And don't get me started on the horror section at any bookstore - it's like a buffet of dreadful deeds.

Let's be real, the purity police can take a hike. There's something oddly fishy about the fact that fanfic, mostly crafted by awesome writers, gets the brunt of the criticism or some ridiculous accusations, especially the smutty bits, while the gruesome stuff gets a free pass 🤷

Look, folks, it's all about context. Fiction is a realm where creativity knows no bounds, right? So, if I want to age-up a character for a mature storyline, I'll go for it 🤷 Look, it's all a part of the creative process. Fiction is like a playground where we can swing from the monkey bars of imagination, right? Aging-up fictional characters is a common practice in creative communities, and it's important to remember that these characters exist solely within the realm of fiction - they are not real, so it doesn't hurt them in any single way. It allows creators to explore different scenarios and relationships without crossing any ethical boundaries :) Also! Aging-up characters isn't some sneaky scheme to write "inappropriate" content about youngsters. It's about taking characters you adore or find fascinating and giving them a new lease on life. It's like those college AU fanfics for characters in their late 30s or kidfic for full-grown adults. It's all about exploring different phases of their lives. So, whether it's smutty or not, the essence remains the same 😎 You see, the whole "aging-up" thing in fanfic/fanart is just common sense. We're not into the whole "let's sexualize kids" scene, so we gracefully turn our characters into adults. It's all about creating content featuring responsible, grown-up folks. And let's get real, if reading about something meant you were all in on it, then every mystery novel reader out there would have to be either an undercover detective nor a murderer 😎 So let's dial down the judgment and just enjoy our creative freedom, shall we?

But you know, trying to equate aging-up with things like grooming/pedophilia is like saying eating a banana is the same as piloting a spaceship because they're both hands-on activities. Let's keep our perspective here, folks, and not get too carried away with the terminology 😂

If you don’t want to read those stories (containing aged-up characters/dark content/smut with aged-up characters) - then don’t read them - problem solved!

Oh, how times have changed, my friend! Back in the day, I used to let all those comments and anonymous hate bring me down. But guess what? I've evolved, and I've got news for the critics: I write what I want to write, and nobody's gonna tell me otherwise. I've got this little thing called free will, and I'm not about to hand it over to anyone who thinks they can dictate what I should or shouldn't put on paper. If that means ruffling a few feathers, so be it. I've shed my tear-soaked days and embraced the fact that I couldn't care less about those sensitive souls who can't handle a bit of fiction. So, to all you "snowflakes" out there, if you're trying to stifle my creativity, good luck, because I'm just going to crank up the heat and write even smuttier storylines with aged-up characters! Thanks for the encouragement, dear Nonnie – you've only fueled my fire! 🔥😎 I might even consider writing some very dark-themed fic with aged-up Eri, why not! 😈

Oh, hey Anon! Quick question for you. Have you ever picked up a Stephen King book? You know, the master of horror and suspense? Well, if you have, you might've noticed that he doesn't shy away from some pretty explicit content, and not just with adults. Sometimes he writes about kids too, and they're sometimes off legal age as well! Surprise, surprise. You can stroll into a bookstore, grab a book off the shelf, and guess what? There's a good chance that some of those books contain content that would make a sailor blush! Yet, the world isn't collapsing because of it. The point is, even in mainstream literature, you'll find situations that might make you raise an eyebrow. So, let's not throw stones at age-up fiction creators when the literary giants sometimes walk on the same edge, right? 😏

In the conclusion, if you've got a problem with aging-up fictional characters, dear Nonnie, you might want to take a chill pill and remember that it's all just a bit of fun in the end ♥ Well, you know what would truly make my day? If you took the liberty to hit that "block" button with glee and gracefully vanished from my interactions. And if, by some chance, you decide to stick around, don't hold your breath for a response. I'll be too busy conjuring up some fiery, smutty tales featuring Bakugo or Shoto or any other character I like to bother with your, shall we say, less-than-enlightening queries. But hey, chin up, pal – here's a little nugget of wisdom from your "older and wiser" friend: go get a life. It's an absolute game-changer 😜 I'm tagging some content creators who write dark fics or use aged-up characters and might face similar anons/anon hate: @mrskokushibo @ectologia @kyojurismo @bakubunny

#aged up characters #asked and answered #anonymous #go get a life #your ask made my day though #I'v been waiting for so long for an anon like you! ♥#i'm being sarcastic

203 notes · View notes

cositapreciosa · 6 months ago

Note

I love your narcos fic so much.i read all of them and i wanna say thank you for writing so many masterpiece and sharing with us 🙏🏻🙏🏻💖💖💖can you write some short fic about Pacho Herrera x gn/reader? pls 🥺🥺🥺

Colombian gold

Pacho Herrera x gn!reader, (nothing very bad, the usual for the show) 2512 words "you have a date? how much did you pay them?" by @novelbear

a/n : thank you !! <3333 enjoy this maybe not short fic of his

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx

Tagging the narcos fam @narcolini @drabbles-mc @anunhealthydoseofangst @hausofmamadas @ashlingnarcos

Pacho doesn’t really know why he is here. Sure, maybe it is Miguel's birthday party and he was invited, maybe it might also be about the bigger picture, that Miguel fucked up with the US government, fucked up with their shipments, this event a good occasion to make sure Miguel knows who he is working for. This could be a phone call, he could have sent someone else, but why keep himself away when he could come to Mexico, enjoy the drinks, the food, your company.

He likes to think he is bigger than this, those events, the gluttony of it all, bigger than the jealousy that pierces his chest when he sees you across the pool, someone’s arm wrapped around your own. This jealousy is hot, burning through his chest in a way he has never felt before. It overpowers him, but he can only watch and clap with everyone else as fireworks boom and light up the sky. He catches eyes with Miguel a few meters away from you, he is sulking, as usual. Oh, Pacho thinks, what wouldn’t he endure to get what he really wants.

He is almost grateful when he exits the chapel. The air is refreshing, he needs a new drink, and there is an extra stride in his steps when he eventually notices you, leaning against the bar, alone. He feels it again, hot, burning, tearing him apart. The cold glass counter soothes the burn as he props himself next to you.

‘’ You have a date? ‘’ He starts. ‘’ How much did you pay him? ‘’

You turn to him. There is a pink tint to your cheeks, something glossy about your lips, a few drinks perhaps, something irresistible. Your eyes shine from the lights above you, they twinkle as you recognize him.

‘’ I don’t pay for dates, I’ll let you know. I usually turn down offers. ‘’

‘’ Hmm. ‘’

Pacho knows you don’t have to pay for them. Of course, you don’t, not when the silk covering your body fits you like a glove, not when the gold wrapped around your neck makes your skin glow.

He remembers meeting you for the first time, a few steps behind Miguel at all times. Pacho didn’t know your name back then, but he noticed your sharp thinking, the clues and pieces of puzzles you picked up that others would never have seen. You were the smart one he had quickly realized, out of the bunch, those that would only follow, monkeys.

He remembers when the lines had started to blur, when his hand would press the small of your back to direct you to your seat, to his apartment. He would call you on occasion, pretexting work, shipments, and anything in between. Pacho knew you could see through it all, the small gestures, the gifts, you had to, how could you not?

Pacho hated how the Plaza could not see your potential in the same light he would. Greed and jealousy run the world, and it certainly motivated your colleagues too. He had tried to make you see through it, how little they thought of you, how you could do so much more if you left them, joined someone else, him.

‘’ I can’t. I owe Miguel everything, you know that. ‘’

‘’ Loyalty is what will get you killed, they will betray you if they have to. ‘’

‘’ You don’t know that. ‘’

‘’ Are you willing to wait and find out? ‘’

Pacho knew you weren’t, he knew there was something in you that was meant for better, greater things.

‘’ Did Miguel tell you coming to his birthday party alone was forbidden? ‘’ He continues, digging for more information.

‘’ Well, Maria sure does tell me every day how sorry she is for me that I am single. ‘’ Your eyes squint, taking him in, ‘’ But I see that you didn’t get influenced by the backhanded comments. ‘’

‘’ Well, I thought my favourite Mexican would be single for the night, that would have fixed the problem, don’t you think? ‘’

He can see the red that colours your cheeks now, a nice blush. Your eyes burn into his with intrigue.

‘’ Chapo is indeed single. I knew you liked them short and moreno. ‘’

He laughs with you on that one, maybe, he thinks, but he does like you better. More his type, more everything, addicting.

‘’ So, ‘’ the ice inside your drink clinks as you swirl the liquid around, ‘’ What brings you to this part of the world, colombiano? ‘’

‘’ You. ‘’

He could have thought this through a little bit better and made it seem like he was coming for business anyway, that this was just such a happy coincidence, but he couldn’t, not after how you had left last time. It always started like it usually did, music, wine, deep conversations over the balcony, but it also always finished the same, accusing fingers, your clothes back in your suitcase, the betrayed look on your face when he would mention how he can’t believe you are letting them walk over you once more.

There is no point in walking around it because he knows now why you plague his mind, you have got to know too, you have to. Maybe he has had one too many drinks.

‘’ I think you know why I always come back, why I come to waste my time en ese campo with those half-assed associates of yours. ‘’

‘’ Pacho. ‘’

A warning maybe. Do not say such words it means, not now, but he can’t seem to care. At home or overseas, he is a king, untouched. He is so close to you he can see the dots of gold in your eyes better now, raise his hand and feel your forearm with the inside of his palm as you let him. He could kiss you, he thinks, right now, in front of everyone and feel no shame. It would show them, he thinks, payasos.

‘’ Don’t kiss me, ‘’ you plead, eyes glued to his, ‘’ Not here. I can’t, I- ‘’

More fireworks set off in the distance, and another whiskey is pushed toward him by the bartender, but just when he thinks that everything is okay, that this could still be your moment, even when all the noise comes back, even after everyone starts moving again in your peripheral vision, your date puts his arm around your waist.

He doesn’t like how you tense, caught off guard. There is a ringing in his ears, a call for fury, anger, of knives and guns, whatever he can get his hand on. His fingers tighten around his glass, he doesn’t know this one, whoever you decided was fit enough to join your side for a few hours, and he doesn’t care to.

‘’ I suggest you bring your business elsewhere tonight. ‘’

‘’ Pacho, please- ‘’ You pitch up, trying to stop him, the threats, the powertrip, but it is useless.

‘’ I won’t ask twice. ‘’ He continues.

Pacho knows his gun is easily visible tucked into his pants, and quick eyes up and down from your date tell him he saw it too. It does not take much for him to leave after that, after Pacho makes a show of sipping his whiskey and leaning back to display the loaded pistol. You nod to the poor man to go, freeing him from the spectacle.

‘’ Now you are just being mean. ‘’ You tsk.

Pacho’s eyes are still following the man’s back into the crowd until he is but a speck of colour in his sight.

‘’ I didn’t see you try to get him to stay either. ‘’

You bring the last sip of your drink to your mouth.

‘’ What is it Pacho, what do you want? ‘’

Your empty glass is pushed to the side as you lean toward him, your eyes serious.

‘’ And don’t say me, don’t say any other business chingaderas. I want the truth. ‘’

Pacho catches the bartender’s attention and he orders you another glass, something sweet, exactly how you like it. Too much sugar will kill you. Maybe, but I’m pretty sure smoking will get to you first. Mostly it is to kill time and take this moment to think about how to say it, if he should at all. What has been bothering him for a long time, what he knows now since the chapel. Pacho lets you take a sip first, and you let him pay without fighting for the bill.

‘’ Miguel is not being honest with me, I know he is planning something, but I am not sure why. ‘’ He clears his throat. ‘’ I’d like you to listen and, if you want, report anything concerning to me. ‘’

Your reaction is instantaneous, like you have been stung by his words, your body reacting in disbelief. He knows how hard this must be for you, as it is for him too. He loathes how political your relationship has been lately, that you are just a piece of the puzzle being tossed around between them, always trying to win, to triumph. Your laugh is dry, void of emotion.

‘’ You’ve gone insane. ‘’ You shake your head. ‘’ And here I thought for a second you liked me. ‘’

‘’ You know how I feel about you, when has it ever been a secret? ‘’

Your eyes trail off elsewhere, in the crowd, the tiger in the cage. Pacho takes a step closer, approaching again when you let him. His hand moves up, thumb touching your chin, fingers pressing on your jaw, gently bringing your gaze his way.

‘’ Only if you want. Think about it, ‘’ About everything, about what we could do together. ‘’ I won’t hold it against you if you don’t. ‘’

His thumb caresses your bottom lip, a touch for the road, a touch to remember. He smiles, softly, trying to smooth out the tension in your body.

‘’ Enjoy the party, okay? ‘’

He means it. Your tongue rolls around in your mouth, biting back words as you shake him off you. And then he leaves, simply because there is nothing else he can do, he walks to the car, drives to the hotel, home and then he waits. However long it would take.

One morning the phone rings, the one he keeps with him at all times, the one he reserves for your number only, no one else's. It feels heavy in his hand, burning through the skin, through his heart, he hadn’t heard from you for weeks now. It takes him a few seconds before he reacts, pressing the button and bringing the phone to his ear.

‘’ Pacho. ‘’

He hears the crackle of your voice over the receiver, flat, his name an acknowledgement, barely a hello. You had only called once after the party, mostly to yell at him, drunk and incoherent. A time when he could do nothing but listen and send a car to your house to make sure you didn’t accidentally hurt yourself. Something he still hadn’t received a thank-you card for, no apologetic phone call, just a deafening silence in return, no more late-night conversations, your side of the bed still cold.

He had thought you wouldn’t call again after that, not when you had been so angry, how you had told him that this must have been all a trick from the beginning. Like a snake, you had spit at him through the phone, trying to break the ranks, the long-earned trust.

Letting you plant doubt into my head at Miguel’s birthday was a mistake.

‘’ Are you there? ‘’

I am. He is, holding onto the satellite phone like his life depends on it.

‘’ I want you to listen very carefully, ‘’ You begin, ‘’ I’ll only say this once. ‘’

This call is moving too fast. Pacho knows this isn’t an apology, and frankly, he doesn’t expect one, but he had hoped you would have been a bit more forgiving, less strategic, less straight to the point. He hears you move around, doors closing and opening, probably at home from what has been reported to him lately.

‘’ Miguel will talk to Don Juan in Matamoros before your meeting. This is what you wanted, right? Information like this? Because this is the last time, I’m done, I’m leaving Mexico. ‘’

He feels like he has been stabbed, straight through the heart and pulled.

‘’ Why? Where are you going? ‘’

Come to me, he wants to say, I’ll fly you in, I’ll protect you.

‘’ Listen, I know you can one-up his deal. ‘’ Hair brushes against the receiver. ‘’ Miguel will know I ratted out the second he gets to your meeting, use it wisely. ‘’

‘’ Don’t hang up. Talk to me. ‘’

He calls your name through the phone, pleading, he knows how desperate his voice might sound, he knows he is. Tell me what happened, and I’ll take care of it. Pacho knows running away is your next step, hang up and disappear, leave and hide, but he won’t allow it, not when he can take you in and make sure you are safe.

In his arms forever at last.

‘’ Miguel wants Guerra to get into the cocaine business, if it works he’ll have leverage, and if the Caribbean corridor closes you’ll- ‘’

‘’ No. ‘’ He has to take a deep breath, remind himself to stay focused on the task at hand. ‘’ No, not that. What happened? ‘’

Why are you leaving? What did they do?

‘’ I- Pacho, I can’t stay on the phone much longer- ‘’

He holds the phone in a tight grip, sweaty fingers, gold rings crushing the plastic.

‘’ I am sending someone to pick you up. Don’t leave your house. ‘’

He can feel your hesitation over the phone, all the planning that would have to be thrown out the window, what it would mean to be seen by his side. This is not just business anymore to him, it hasn’t been for a long time.

‘’ I owe you that. Let me. ‘’

He had longed for this, a phone call, a letter, news of your well-being. A chance to save you, steal you away.

‘’ Okay. ‘’ You sound small, resigned. You know better than to refuse, ‘’ I’ll wait. ‘’

The second you hang up, Pacho is on the move, snapping fingers left and right, setting up cars, planes, whatever it will take to get you out. It scares him to death, the idea of you alone in Mexico, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for someone to figure out something is wrong, to see if Miguel would act on it.

He has a different feeling this time, nothing hot or burning like before. It spreads through him, a searing pain. It isn’t jealousy anymore, fear perhaps.

Maybe it is, he realizes.

Letting you plant doubt into my head at Miguel’s birthday was a mistake.

Maybe it was.

#pacho herrera x reader #pacho x reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos mexico imagines #narcos mexico imagine #narcos x reader

68 notes · View notes

gauloiseblue · 6 months ago

Text

Every Day, You'll Hear Me Say

(Kyle Garrick × Reader)

[Fluff | No Warnings Apply]

On the day of their marriage, when the newlyweds were asked about how they met, their stories would be touching. Some loves bloomed at the first sight, some had existed long before they even realized it.

Yours, however, began with a comedic story.

It was early in the morning on Thursday, just one day after you moved to the new place. You were exhausted from all the cleaning and moving boxes, and you'd sleep the whole day if not for your growling belly. You couldn't possibly go too far, so you settle with the sandwich bar near your apartment.

You didn't pay that much attention to your surroundings, moreover to the other customer beside you. So when you heard your name being called, you grabbed the order without looking. It's not until you took a bite that you noticed the mistake.

"I didn't order this." You told the staff, and she furrowed her brows.

"You're Reese, right?"

You nodded.

She looked just as confused as you, before the other staff came and flusteredly explained the situation.

"I'm sorry, we got your order mixed up with the man here. His name is also Reese."

You turned your head to the side, and saw the man she referred to. There was a trace of surprise in his face, but it's been replaced with amusement, for an obvious reason.

You felt your face heated up, as you covered your mouth.

"Oh my God." You stuttered, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know—"

"It's alright, you look starving." He chuckled, before he reassured the staff when they apologized.

"Let me buy you a new one."

"No, it's really ok." He smiled, "My treat."

You tried to pay him back, but you ended up with two sandwiches. And one drink.

At the table, you apologized to him once again, but he shrugged it off.

"Don't worry about it, it's just a small thing." He told you, "You should worry about yourself, you look like you could faint at any time."

You rubbed your neck as you looked away, "I haven't slept since I moved here, so…"

"No wonder you look unfamiliar." He said, "So, your name's Reese?"

"No, that's my Starbucks name." You sheepishly smiled, "I assume yours is Reese?"

"No." He softly laughed, "It's also my Starbucks name."

"Really?" You said in surprise, "It's not Reese?"

He shook his head. "Why? Does the name suit me?"

"Kind of." You replied, "You look rather sweet."

You slapped your hand on your mouth as you realized what you just said.

"No, I mean—it’s not like that—I didn't mean it that way or whatever—" You groaned, "This is embarrassing."

"That's alright, I used that name for that reason.” He said, “My friend once did an experiment by asking strangers if I looked like Reese or my real name, and most of them answered Reese." He grinned as he quipped, "One of them even told me that he wanted to “eat me up” because I reminded him of Reese's."

"What," Your eyes widened at his story, before you burst into laughter, "Wait, did someone really say that?"

"Why would I lie?" He smirked as he took a sip of his drink, "What about you? Why did you use that name?"

You scratched your cheek, "It's for a boring reason, really."

"Tell me anyway."

Just like that, your story began with a simple talk.

You'd laugh whenever it’s being retold—either by you or by him. Because your version was different from his, and both of them were amusing. For you, it was an embarrassing day. But for him, it was the best day of his life. You’d kick him under the table for saying such cheesy things, yet a wide grin would betray you as you scold him.

Of course, it’s not the only story worth telling, since it’s just the beginning.

The next story is much less interesting, but memorable still.

On a particular morning, you bumped into him in the hallway. He's in his sportswear, with sweats still forming on his forehead. He had a thin hoodie on him, and kept his hands inside the pocket. You wouldn't look at him twice if the bump in his pouch wasn't bean shaped.

It didn't take long before his pocket whined, which, that itself was impossible. Unless something else was inside that pouch.

"I, uh—I have to go." He quickly fumbled, "See ya around."

"Wait—"

Before you could stop him, he already disappeared behind his door. Leaving you in the hallway, dumbfounded.

Though it didn't take long for you to figure out what it was. Since the smuggled item was quite vocal.

A few days later, as you took a shower, you heard a high-pitched howl from next-door. Along with the lecture from your neighbor.

"I wouldn't do this if you didn't roll in the dirt, Lou."

A loud protest soon followed, as well as a splash.

"Alright." You could hear him sigh, "I'll give you a treat after this, yeah? How's that sound?"

From that moment, the fuss slowly died down, as gentle coos replaced the argument.

"Good girl."

You quietly chuckled, as you washed off the remaining bubbles. While you reached out to grab the towel, the thought of treats came up to your mind.

Maybe the pup would love blueberries.

The next day, when you made your way to your door, you slipped a bag onto his door handle, with a sticky note attached to it.

You could remember exactly what was written in it, but you received the reply not long after. "Thank you for the gift." He told you, as you both retrieved letters from the mailbox, "She likes it very much."

You raised a brow at him, before you caught the context.

"Oh." You muttered out before you smiled, "I'm glad to hear it."

You both stared at each other, and would continue to do so if he didn't chance it.

"Do you want to meet her?"

The question rolled out with a slight tremble, as if he's both eager and hesitant about it. You studied him for a moment, before deciding on the answer.

"Yes," You said, "If you don't mind."

Which seemed to hit the mark, since his doubts were quick to disappear.

You couldn't get why he was unsure at the beginning, but you later found out that pets weren't allowed in the buildings.

The little pup is a mixed breed, with dark eyes and 4-colored furs. She wagged her tail when she saw you, and he had to scooped her up to quiet her down.

As you both settled back, he told you the story of how he found her, while you played with the pup.

“When I saw her on the side of the road, I knew something was off. She was too young to be left alone, and even if she was left unattended, she wouldn’t have strayed too far from the rest.” He said as he scratched her ear, “My only guess is that she’s left there by her previous owner, for whatever reason.”

“That’s so cruel.” You frowned, “Why couldn’t they put her into adoption or something?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, “But I suspected she came from an illegal farm, which means she had no birth certificate.” He explained, “Most adoption centers won't accept dogs from unknown sources, and sending them to the shelter would be a lot of work, since you’d have to write the admissions.”

“So they just threw her away?”

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t think about it too much. It already happened, and there’s nothing I could do to change it.” He chuckled when she started nibbling his thumb, “Besides, it’s more important for me to give her home. That’s the least I can do for her.”

You looked at him as you quietly observed how he stroked her cheek. If he’s the one who cared for her, then there's no doubt she’s found her home.

There’s a saying that a simple gesture could mirror someone’s heart, and it’s not hard to see when it comes to him. At that time, you couldn’t explain why you had the urge to help him, all you knew was you wanted to. At least for Lou.

Negotiating wasn’t your forte, but after many bribes and sweet talks, you managed to convince the landlord to allow him to keep the pup. You arrived at his door right after you got the written permission, in which you showed him with a proud grin.

“You don’t have to play hide and seek anymore.” You told him, “You have the permit.”

He read the letter carefully, before he turned to you, wide-eyed.

“How did you get this?”

“Pure luck, I guess.” You scratched your cheek.

“Come on, you expect me to believe it?” He chuckled, “How am I gonna repay you for this.”

“You don’t have to.” You added when he’s about to protest, “Think of it as my way to return the favor.”

“Still, it’s too much.” He muttered, “Let me buy you dinner.”

The automatic response that you thought was to refuse him, but something stopped you from doing it. You stared at him in silence, with your mind running miles an hour.

“Please?”

It’s still curious how a single word could slap some sense into you. Because at that very moment, you understood your own feelings.

Oh, You thought. That’s why.

Without further knock-back, you accepted his offer.

The details of what happened during that night are fuzzy in your memory, since your head was swarmed with the thought of him. But you remember walking into your room, with a slip of paper and a loud heartbeat on your hand.

It wasn't hard to see how you'd struggle with a simple message that night. But it all paid off the moment his reply popped out.

Since that day, texting him would be a part of your routine. Whether it's a long conversation, or simply a good morning. Sometimes he asked you to keep him company on the evening walk, sometimes he asked you whether you're up for dinner. On weekends, you'd join him in the park—where Lou could run freely. He'd bring the sandwiches from the bistro, and you'd giggle when you read the name 'Reese' on the wrap.

Months would pass, and all the moments you shared would come to a pause.

It was 9:34 PM when you heard a knock on your door. You smiled as you thought of the suspect, and while you got it right, the mood that's reflected on his face was far from what you expected.

"What's wrong?" You asked.

It took a moment for him before he uttered a few words.

"I need your help."

It was a simple request, take care of Lou, but the way he said it was dreadful. As if he'd be gone for long.

"I can't take her to the dog care because I have to leave now. You can drop her off tomorrow, but please, keep her for tonight." He told you, "Here's my spare key, you can find whatever you need for Lou. I've put the money on the table, you can use it for her daycare."

"Where are you going?" You frowned, "When will you be back?"

"Airport." He looked away, "Got a call from my boss, saying it's urgent. I don't know when I'll be back, it can take a month or so." He shook his head, "If I don't come back… No, forget it. I'll leave it to you."

That night, you could only watch him as the elevator door slowly closed. Despite the haste in his steps, his face didn't mirror the same eagerness.

When you entered his place, you found Lou on the tousled cover. She curled up by the empty space, where the owner was supposed to be. For a moment, you thought of moving her to your room. But you decided against it.

You spent the night on the couch, reading the message he left on the table. He had given you an address to the pet care, along with the money he mentioned. It's still puzzling how he could entrust everything to you—so easily, that you could take it for granted.

You turned your head to the bedroom, where the pup slept soundly on his bed. She had no clue that he had left, and you doubted that she's prepared for it. And if you took her to the care, would she understand it? Would she know that it's only for temporary?

With your fist tightened, you chose to let her stay.

It's not for a noble reason, rather, you couldn't bring yourself to leave her in an unfamiliar place. You scolded yourself for being sentimental, but you’ve been with her long enough that you’ve grown fond of her. One month shouldn’t be long, you could handle it just fine.

And it’s true. One month wouldn’t be a problem for you. Alas, he didn’t come back on the supposed day. The marked number on your calendar had been crossed, and still, no news from him. The messages you wrote were sent, but never received. You’d stare at his profile, as you read the word ‘OFF’ on the status.

Each day, you worry would grow as you glanced at the date. What if something had happened to him? And if he doesn't come back, what would become of Lou?

As you turned your calendar page, you felt the apprehension when you saw the month. Twelve more days, and it’d be exactly three months after he left.

The pup sensed it too, as she whined whenever she passed his door. You tried to overlook her cry, until you couldn’t. You retrieved the spare key from your safe, and headed over to his place.

The room was still the same as you left before, though it felt a little bit colder. You brought the pup down and closed the door behind.

Lou dashed to his room with a wagged tail, as she followed the lingering scent of him. You followed her behind, and stopped on your track the moment you saw her pawing at his wardrobe.

“You shouldn’t open that, Lou.” You stated as you lifted her up, “It’s impolite.”

She writhed around in your hold, before letting out a low whine.

“I know.” You murmured, “I miss him too.”

You plumped down on the sofa, before you rested your head on the arm pillow. The scent of him still lingered on the fabric, and you curled up against it. Lou snuggled closer to you, as she slipped under your arm. You smiled when she began to yawn, you glanced at the clock and caught the arms in the shape of a tilted V.

It’s almost midnight, and you should’ve gone back to your room. But something tempted you to stay, lulling you to rest. To close your eyes, even for a moment. Like clockwork, you slipped into nothingness when you gave in.

At this point, with all the past tense that you’ve used, it shouldn’t be a surprise when the story will come to an end. As cliché as it might sound, he really did come back that night. Although much later, near the dawn.

When you rose up from your sleep, you felt the weight on your body that wasn’t present before. You tried to shift away from it, but it seemed to be on top of you. When you peeked through your lashes, a mass of grey came into your view.

You leaped from the couch as you recognized the cover. It was a blanket, and you’re one-hundred percent sure that you last saw it in his bedroom.

“Good morning.”

Until now, nothing could beat the speed of your stare as you snapped your head towards him.

He was standing by the table in comfortable sweats, with Lou nestled in his arms. There were plates on the table, and you were hit by the delectable smell of food.

“Are you hungry?” He put a metal plate down, before lowering her to the ground.

Still dazed, you ended up answering with another question. “When—” You gulped, “Since when did you come back?”

He turned to the clock, then back to you, “2 hours ago.”

“Oh.” you rubbed your face, and brushed your hair to the back. “Um, sorry I didn’t hear you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He offered you a glass of water, and you took it while you murmured a small thanks.

“You didn’t take her to the pet care.”

You lowered the glass after a few gulps. “Um.” You scratched your neck, “I felt bad leaving her by herself, so I took her with me. Besides, you didn’t tell me how long you’d be away.” You muttered the last part.

He chuckled when he caught it. “I’m sorry, I should’ve informed you beforehand.”

The two of you exchanged a look, which you couldn’t look away from. The heat started to rise, as it painted your cheeks in red. There’s something between you and him, something vague but palpable at the same time—

“Thank you.”

You blinked, as the thick air dissipated from you.

“For taking care of her.” He added, “I owe you one."

At that time, you didn't quite catch the underlying meaning of his words. Only years after that—as you laid beside him, with a new ring on your finger—you finally found the answer.

"You told me that the day you realized you like me was the day I gave you my number." He started, as he stroked your cheek tenderly, "And when you asked me the same question, I said I've loved you ever since you took my sandwich. But I only realized it the moment I came home to you sleeping. I was beyond exhausted that day, both physical and mentally. I thought I'd collapse when I came back, but as I walked through the door, all my tiredness just disappeared. In my mind, I was expecting to see an empty home. So you can imagine how surprised I was when I saw you there.

"You might not know it, but your presence means so much to me. I wasn't brave enough to say thank you, for being there for me, so I said whatever's appropriate at that time. But in my heart I knew; you're the one I'm gonna marry."

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #writing fluff is great for your soul they say #it's good for your sanity they say

59 notes · View notes