#don’t ever give him a compass he will not have a fun time
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momongasshop · 2 days ago
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SP characters with a Reader that is sensitive/soft-hearted<3
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Stan❤️:
• Also considers himself to be soft-hearted at times, so he isn’t one to hold it against you too much, but if you’re too sensitive to the point you take everything, even light-hearted jokes, too seriously, he might become a little frustrated with you
• He will not ever tell you upfront that your sensitivity or soft-hearted nature frustrates him, but if you ask what is upsetting him, he will tell you, very reluctantly, though (He doesn’t hate this personality trait of yours, but he can find it annoying or frustrating depending on what is going on)
• There was once a time he brought you around his friends, and Cartman upset you to the point you cried; never again will he bring you around the guys if Cartman is there
• Even when your sensitivity can be “too much” for him, he really does appreciate how in tune with your feelings you are; you both can have deep conversations without him feeling “weak” or “weird” (It will take time for him to open up about certain topics, but at least he is willing to do so)
• Yeah, he is definitely going to go to you about everything that upsets him or makes him feel off, especially if he is upset about his parents or his friends; you just understand him
• Overall, he is right in the middle, not too bad but not the best, BUT at least he puts a lot of trust in you and can learn to appreciate this trait of yours (I mean, looking at his track record, he would go for someone a bit “tougher” so having someone like you might throw him off at first)
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Kyle💚:
• He loves, and I mean loves, that you’re a more soft-hearted and sensitive person (He would be into the whole “opposites attract” trope, and plus, his track record is mostly girls who are “softer,” so it makes sense he would be into this personality trait the most out of this whole list)
• If you find a dead bird in your backyard and want to cry about it, he is your guy, he would be the type to try and give you a piece of reality by telling you how it’s the circle of life but also to comfort you and tell you how the bird is probably eating all the birdseed they want in heaven
• His friends are most likely not going to be too hard on you IF Kyle warns them ahead of time that you’re more sensitive and will take certain jokes to heart (Except Cartman, he won’t care, so don’t even think about trying to be buddies with him)
• Will make sure to keep a mental memory of the types of things that upset you or make you uncomfortable, especially if it’s things his friends say or do
• When it comes to getting angry or frustrated at you because of your sensitive/soft-hearted nature, he doesn’t really get angry or frustrated, maybe annoyed, but only if he has been having a bad day or something is already bugging him (Hopefully, you can share a little bit of that sensitivity and show some compassion when it comes to times like that)
• Overall, he is the “best” on this list just because he probably pursued you for this softness/sensitive nature you have
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Cartman💛:
• Honestly, he is not the kindest person, but he isn’t a complete dickhead (Well, kinda); he likes you for a reason, and that reason is your soft heart; who knew he would be into the opposites attract troupe as well
• Is he going to make fun of you, yes, will let other people make fun of you; absolutely not; he is the type to be like, “You’re such a pussy, stop acting like that,” and if anyone agrees, he is coming for their throat (Bullying you is only cool if it’s him doing it)
• He is more sensitive than he lets on, even if it’s mostly for manipulation purposes; he will at least acknowledge your ways are different than his and possibly open up to you; most of his stories are not sad or deep; most are just confessions of his crimes (Hehe like the chili incident)
• Definitely going to get frustrated with you and sometimes gets angry and call you a “pussy” or a “whiny bitch”, but he will bring you sweets or a drink of your choice to make it up to you, and maybe if he thinks he hurt your feelings really bad, he will give you a hug
• Speaking of hurting your feelings, he is going to do that on more than one occasion, but with time, he will learn what tics you off and what doesn’t, maybe he will be nice, but maybe he will use what makes you upset against you so he can get his way, who really knows it’s Cartman
• Overall, he is the worst on this list when it comes to having a reader that is soft-hearted or sensitive; hopefully, you’re into mean dudes, though, because if so, he is perfect for you (Sorry if this dragged Cartman, but let’s be real, he would want someone who is a carbon copy of himself)
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Kenny🧡:
• If he can deal with Butters and Cartman, he can deal with you but may find you annoying sometimes, especially if it’s something simple upsetting you (This is meant to be in the nicest way possible; being sensitive and soft-hearted is not a bad trait to him) 
• He doesn’t even attempt to talk about you to his friends; instead, he will keep everything more private, mostly because he doesn’t want Cartman to pick on you
• Will love it when you want to know more about him; his own friends don’t even bother to really listen about his likes and dislikes and other personal details about his life, so to have someone be interested in him means a lot
• When he died in front of you for the first time, it ruined you, but then you saw him the next morning, hmm how strange, maybe you’re just imagining things (Maybe it was fate your two were supposed to be together for this reason, how sweet)
• Because of how you can remember him dying, he will definitely be more open with you and even talk about how he has died in the past and how almost everyone doesn’t remember; it’s almost therapeutic for him and probably means a lot that he can finally get all of it off his chest
• Overall, he is one of the better ones when it comes to being with a sensitive/soft-hearted reader; he really does care for you and is willing to adapt to your softer nature
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Butters🩵:
• Another KINDA-sensitive dude, he does hang around Cartman, though, and is easily manipulated, so the first time he sees you getting overly sensitive or “too soft,” he might poke fun at you with a bad joke
• BUT will definitely say he is sorry and try to make it up to you with a small gift or do you a favor if he hurts your feelings more than he anticipated
• You also have to get used to Butters and his trauma dumping, which is usually when he shows his sensitivity and vulnerability the most, but Butters is more open with this trait of his; it’s not that he wants everyone to know his business, it just slips out (BUT with your sensitive ass you will be all up on him asking if he needs anything or if he wants to talk, you might even shed a few tears if he tells you the worst his parents have done to him)
• Speaking of Butters parents, they probably really like you and think you’re a much better influence on him than his usual friends, but (There is always a but) they might think you’re rubbing off on him if he acts too soft and encourage him to be more manly
• He never gets overly angry with you, maybe a little frustrated at times, but only if you’re sad or overwhelmed for what seems like no reason
• Overall, he is pretty good, but the comments from his parents, Cartman, and even his own insecurities might keep him from welcoming you fully (Don’t worry, though; he will eventually come around and learn to enjoy your softness)
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snowyshuanghua · 16 days ago
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mdzs headcanon of the day #597 ! guys i didn’t post after midnight this time !
jin ling doesn’t know how to use public transport. it’s because he can’t read maps and he got lost four different times
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peachdues · 10 months ago
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GASOLINE ON FIRE
COMPASS ONE-SHOT • bad boy!Sanemi x Reader
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A/N: a one-shot from my bad boy!Sanemi gang AU fic, Compass featuring Sanemi and Reader’s first kiss. It technically happened off-page in the first Chapter, so I thought I’d share it with you all now because I’m such a sap for these two.
CW: 1.7k • MDNI • mentions of explicit sexual content • mentions of masturbation • Sanemi’s been thinking about Reader in fun ways • first kiss • fluff/light angst
READ COMPASS HERE
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You’re both seated on your floor, pizza box sitting in front of you, half-empty, alongside a couple of empty, discarded beer bottles.
“I’ve never had sex,” you blurt, prompting Sanemi to choke on his gulp of beer.
“What?”
You pause in bringing your own bottle to your lips to glare at him. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”
“I’m not,” Sanemi wipes his lips. “Who gives a shit about that ��� I mean, where did that come from?”
You take a long, pointed sip of your beer before setting it back down, drawing your knees up to your chest. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Isn’t it weird that I haven’t? We’re both twenty-one — but I’ve never even had a serious relationship, much less had sex.”
That surprises him. He’d thought about your days in school more than he’d be willing to admit ever since he chose your bookstore to hide in all those months ago. He’s devoted countless hours to wracking his brain, trying to recall every minute detail about you, in a concerted effort to figure out why the fuck he didn’t approach you sooner.
But he’d found that he couldn’t quite recall, and maybe that’s because he never had an excuse.
Still, you seem like you should have had at least the opportunity for love. After all, Sanemi can’t imagine someone worthier of it.
You’re staring at him, now, expectant, and Sanemi distracts himself by reaching for his own beer bottle to inspect it. “’S not weird,” he says after a moment. “You’re young. You’ve barely been out in the world.”
“But you‘ve done it,” you push, taking another swig of your drink.
Sanemi nods with a chuckle, setting his now-empty bottle down. “Yeah, yeah I have.”
You refuse to meet his eyes as you mumble, “And you like doing it.”
“Is that what the rumors say?” He asks drily, concealing his faint grimace by reaching for another beer.
“I don’t care about the rumors. I’m trying to make a point, here,” you scowl, finally lifting your gaze back to him. “I want to do it. I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”
He glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Noted.”
“I want you to fix it.”
His hand halts midair before it can reach the last unopened bottle, and he turns to stare dumbly at you.
You must be joking — or you’re drunk. In either event, there’s no fucking way you’re serious.
He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it — extensively, for that matter. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it just as badly as you seem to — arguably, even more so, given that he can’t stop thinking about it.
He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that he thinks of you that way often — so much so that he hasn’t been able to get laid in at least two months, because he couldn’t stop picturing you when he was with his designated fling of the evening.
Hell, he’d only been able to get off that last time because he stopped fighting the images in his head. Ones that involved that flirty sundress you loved wearing pulled down to expose your breasts, bouncing as you rode him, or the blush on your cheeks he imagined would form when he settled between your thighs, mouth lowering to steal a taste of what he could only assume was paradise.
Since then, the only thing Sanemi has been fucking is his own hand. And damn, if those little images of you didn’t keep sneaking into his subconscious. And though he always managed to cum fast and hard whenever those fantasies bled into his mind, Sanemi also was left to feel nothing but shame afterward as he wiped his hand and abdomen clean, guilt hanging heavily over his head for thinking of you in such a way.
For daring to think you might want him at all.
But now, here you were, looking at him with all the hopeful expectancy in the world. As though he has anything worth offering you.
Sure, Sanemi knew you were likely asking him to do it for practicality’s sake. You were a virgin and you wanted not to be anymore. And he was there, your only friend, and he was someone known for being rather unrestrained when it came to matters of the bedroom (or, anywhere that offered semi-privacy, for that matter).
He was a convenience; nothing more.
Did that stop him from considering it? Of course not. He was yours to use as much as you wanted, as far as he was concerned. But he’d assumed his usefulness stopped at being an ear to listen to; a companion — not because of anything you did, but because Sanemi had never felt like he held much value outside of what he could do for others.
And really, being used for this purpose — by you, no less — wasn’t too bad of an idea, all things considered.
But he can’t; he won’t. Part of him wants you to save that piece of yourself for someone who deserves it; deserves you. And that sure as shit isn’t him.
Part of him is also acutely aware that you’re tipsy and thus, the boundaries of your consent are blurry, and Sanemi would rather eat and shit glass than dilute them further.
But another part of him hesitates because he knows that if he does give in — gives you what you both want — that he’ll only further distort what remains of the lines he’s drawn in the sand. Lines, he sternly reminds himself, that are not just his means of protecting you, but rules that he is bound to obey as an extension of the Corps.
Don’t get attached.
And yet, he can’t help but wonder; can’t stop his traitorous heart from swelling, or his mind from running with the faint possibility of what life might be like if he just said yes.
What would it be like to be close to you? To hold you, kiss you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear he’d never told anyone else, but had secretly always longed to share? Would you moan or sigh his name? And if he was graced with the chance to see you fall apart — how would you look? Would you cry out, or would your mouth fall open in a silent o, your pleasure so intense that it stole the very breath from your lungs?
Never mind wanting and being wanted in return — what would it be like to have?
You rest your chin on your arms, eyes fixed on him, waiting, and Sanemi feels himself nearly break right there.
It’s nearly impossible to turn you down in a way that won’t hurt your feelings, but he has to. He has no choice.
He never has.
“Sorry, Princess. Don’t think that’s the best idea.” He reaches over to flick your nose before adding, “Plus, you’re a bit too tipsy.”
He hopes that his disappointment isn’t too evident on his face as he watches you; hopes that you cannot see the way his heart cracks under his own self restraint.
Thankfully, you drop your head onto your arms with a groan, concealing your face in your alcohol-tinged shame.
To his dismay, your obvious letdown punches at that soft part of his heart he’s reserved for you. His mouth goes dry. The idea blooms in his head and he’s acting before he can stop himself.
Just a taste. He swears. Just a taste. A little indulgence, so you know his reticence has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that he isn’t worth it.
“Hey.”
You roll your head to the side to peer shyly at him, a pretty blush still staining your cheeks.
“Come here.”
You lift your head from your arms then, cocking it in a question that Sanemi decides to answer by crooking his fingers under your chin and leaning in.
The kiss he shares with you is soft; measured. Your lips feel like silk against his, and it strikes him that never before has he kissed anyone with so much tenderness. The few kisses he exchanged with his flavors of the night were always sharp, bruising clashes of lips and teeth, each party more focused on sating their own needs rather than tending to that of the other.
Then again, Sanemi never felt this way toward those serving as his temporary distractions. He never thought of them as something precious; something to be adored, the way he does you.
You don’t move your arms from where they’re folded atop your knees, and for that, Sanemi is grateful. He knows that were you to move your hands to cup his face or even tangle in his hair, he would lose whatever thread of self control he possessed when it came to you.
So, Sanemi continues to kiss you slowly; indulgently. He never lets himself deepen it, never lets his tongue flick out along the seam of your lips in an effort to part them. He simply moves his lips with yours for a moment longer before he finally pulls away, though his fingers linger under your chin.
Only centimeters separate your mouth from his, and Sanemi can feel the sweet warmth of your breath as he whispers, “We should pick out a movie.”
You nod after a moment, still too stooped in the haze of his closeness to you. Reluctantly, Sanemi shifts away, his hand dropping from your chin. You don’t see how he flexes it over and over when you turn away to fidget with your remote, Sanemi unable to shake off the memory of your skin under his fingertips.
He watches the movie without really seeing it; his mind is far too preoccupied with replaying your kiss, over and over on a constant, never-ending loop.
He’d hoped that the small kiss would smother some of the fire that has been steadily consuming him over the last few months. A temporary respite to the near constant pang of longing he felt in his chest every time he looked at you.
What a stupid fucking idea that had been.
Because, as Sanemi sits beside you, limbs rigid under the incessant buzz thrumming in his veins, urging him to reach over and lay you back against the rug and make you his, he realizes your kiss was only a gallon of gasoline dumped directly over his fire.
And, judging by the way you keep your eyes fixed resolutely on the screen before you despite the persistent heat in your cheeks, Sanemi thinks you might be just as hungry for him as he is for you.
Oh, he’s fucked.
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likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated!
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nadvs · 6 months ago
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out of bounds (part six)
pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader
rating mature 18+ for smut
summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.
» part one | two | three | four | five
» masterlist
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Every made-up explanation you can think of won’t cut it. Nothing you say will be believable. You’ve been found out.
“They’re bug bites?” you say weakly, pulling up your shirt so the hickeys aren’t in clear view anymore. Ami laughs, shaking her head.
“I knew you and Zach were a thing,” she says. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I wouldn’t judge. You know that I’m breaking the rules, too.”
You sigh, dropping back into your bed.
“We really don’t want it getting around,” you say.
“Then you should be more careful about where you let bugs bite you,” she laughs.
“Ami,” you groan, half-chuckling. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t. You can trust me,” she says. “When did this start?”
You sit back up and give her surface details, recapping when you two kissed by the lake, then tried and failed to wait until after the season to pursue anything.
“Have you guys…” she asks with raised brows. Your cheeks burn.
“Last night,” you admit. Your stomach goes numb at the memory. “But seriously, you can’t mention it to anyone. If people find out and he gets fired, it’d crush him.”
The amusement in Ami’s eyes fades, replaced with compassion.
“Wow. You’re really worried, huh?” she says.
“He’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. I don’t want him to get in trouble,” you reply. “We decided today that we’ll keep things on hold. For real this time.”
“Can you keep it on hold?” she asks. “I don’t know about you, but it being forbidden makes it ten times hotter.”
You shrug. You’re unsure if you’d be doing this much this fast with Zach if you met outside of work, and he did tell you last night that he never moves this quickly with a girl.
“I’m going to have to try,” you say. Zach’s hard to resist, but for his sake, you don’t want to give in.
“Fair,” Ami sighs. “I knew it, though. Malcolm called me crazy.”
“You talked about it with him?”
“Yeah, the night you went shopping,” she says. “I said that I think there’s something there and Malcolm was like, I can tell he likes her, but there’s no way he’d break the rules. I wish I could rub it in his face.”
You shoot her a look.
“But I won’t,” she promises. You nod gratefully.
“He can tell he likes me?” you ask.
“He said when you’re around, Zach smiles way more than usual,” she recalls, “which is already a lot to begin with, apparently.”
Your heart flutters. Zach is already such a cheerful person, so to think you make him even happier, and very obviously at that, is flattering.
“I guess Malcolm would know since they’ve been best friends for so long,” you say.
“Yeah,” Ami agrees. “He actually…”
She chuckles.
“What?”
“He was randomly talking about Zach the other day,” Ami continues, “and he said that he treats every girlfriend like he’s gonna marry her. I guess he’s a hopeless romantic, so I hope you’re prepared for that.”
You chuckle, wholeheartedly believing it. Zach is sweet and sensitive and while you didn’t doubt his sincerity for a second, hearing that he’s not one for flings is a relief. Because you want so much more with him.
“Good to know,” you reply. “And you and Malcolm are still keeping things casual or…?”
“I don’t know,” she says with a hopeful smile. “But if it gets more serious, I wouldn’t be mad about it or anything.”
You laugh together and finally, you allow yourself to gush about the man who’s thrown you for such an unexpected loop. It feels nice to not have to keep it in anymore.
You’re relieved when Saturday rolls around. Even though fun days at camp are just as busy, you welcome a break from running training drills.
After breakfast in the dining hall, Ruby announces to the campers to prepare for a morning of hiking, an afternoon of swimming, and a camp-wide relay race before dinner.
The sky is cloudy, but the chance of rain is low, so you stay optimistic that you won’t be forced to spend the day inside.
You quickly realize it’s not going to be as easy to keep your distance from Zach today, because you’re put in a hiking group with him.
As you set out on the trail with your cohorts of campers, their chatter loud over the sounds of shoes crunching over the dirt and birds chirping in the sky, Zach leads the crowd under towering trees that line the perimeter of the campground.
It’s only been a couple of days since you spoke with him about cooling things down, but not talking how you used to has been disheartening. Neither of you have been scheming to find ways to be alone like you used to, settling for friendly conversations whenever your paths cross.
“We’ll get a pretty cool view at the midpoint,” Zach says loudly to the campers, turning back. He meets your eyes for a second, a small smile flashing on his face, before he looks ahead again.
You wonder if he took your words as you suggesting you two shouldn’t talk at all, when that’s far from the truth.
You make conversation with your campers while you hike, and when you reach the height of a steep trail, you approach Zach as he looks out at the view of lush forestland.
“Hi,” you say quietly. His eyebrows raise when he sees you, like he’s surprised you’re speaking to him. It’s your first moment out of earshot from others in too long.
“Hey,” he says.
“You know, I didn’t mean we can’t talk at all,” you say with a soft laugh.
The pang of rejection has been burrowed in Zach’s chest since your last private conversation. He’s hardly ever one for overthinking, but since you came into his life, all he does is mull over everything you do and say to him, anxious that you don’t like him as much as he likes you.
But now, as he gets lost in the softness in your gaze, he realizes what an idiot he is for worrying that you don’t also think that what you have is special.
He needs to remind himself that you’re just being careful. Not rejecting him. He shoves down the prickly feeling and smiles at you.
“I thought I wasn’t even allowed to look at you,” he jokes to dismiss his uneasiness.
“Stop,” you chuckle. “How’ve you been?”
Zach’s blue eyes dart over his shoulder, his lips flattening.
“I miss you,” he half-whispers.
You tilt your head as you gaze up at him, your lips in an endeared frown. You’ve gotten used to there always being a sense of a playful smirk on his face, a look of mischief in his eyes, but right now, he’s completely doleful.
“I miss you, too,” you say. “Forcing each other into the friend-zone sucks.”
Zach laughs, his heart warming.
“No kidding,” he says. At this point, he just needs to get through a few more weeks as just your friend. It feels like forever, but he’ll get through it.
After lunch, counselors work together to set up for an afternoon by the lake, handing campers life jackets and inflating water toys.
After set-up, you stand on the dock, shades shielding your eyes now that the sun has peeked out from behind fluffy clouds.
You look out at the beautiful water, surrounded by campers talking and laughing, feeling that calming sense of being where you’re meant to be. Even though the days are tiring and the kids can be difficult, you’re so glad you came here.
You hear Zach’s familiar voice as he chats and walks past you, followed by two boys. He leans down to grip the edge of the empty canoe bobbing in the water on the dockside, gently reminding them to enter the boat slowly.
You can tell he’s been running around tirelessly, his lips parted as he pants, sweat sheening his skin.
When he stands to collect the ore, he quickly lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his forehead, giving you a glimpse of his chiseled body. You’re glad you’re wearing shades because you can’t take your eyes off of him.
You clasp your hands together, your body rushing with heat as you remember what happened a few nights ago. How taut his body looked when you were on top of him. The way he breathed and moaned when you slowly sank onto him.
You force yourself to look away. Seeing him like that and knowing you can’t have him is only making things harder.
A couple of hours later, the relay race is underway on the north soccer field. You’re standing at the touchline on your own, stationed to hand out water and snacks to any campers or staff who need it.
Your stomach goes wild with butterflies when Zach makes his way towards you, offering you a charming grin as he pushes his sunglasses up to rest on his head.
“No way,” he says when he approaches, squinting, his voice low. “You got the easy job.“
“Rude. It’s actually way harder than it looks,” you reply.
“Standing there looking pretty is hard?”
“Very,” you say, his compliment making you a little lightheaded. You mirror him, perching your sunglasses up.
“I don’t believe it.”
Zach opens the cooler, not giving you a chance to get a drink for him. He collects a water bottle and unscrews the cap.
“You remember when you told me I can’t look at you a certain way when we’re at work?” you say, pushing the lid of the cooler shut.
He smirks, tipping his head back as he gulps down water. You’re gazing at him like that now, your stare hard on him. It’s addictive being on the receiving end of that look. It makes him feel like he’s floating.
“Yeah, and it still stands,” he nods. “So, stop it.”
“I’m not even…” you scoff, crossing your arms. “I have a rule for you, too. You can’t lift up your shirt when I’m around.”
“What? When did I do that?”
“By the lake. And I don’t appreciate it.”
“Why not?” he chuckles.
“Just stop,” you flirt with a roll of your eyes.
“I need a reason.” By the smug smirk on his face, you can tell he already knows. Because he’s so cute, you give in.
“It’s hard not to stare,” you say. “And we’re not supposed to stare at each other.”
The flattered look you’ve quickly grown to love flashes on his face.
“Oh, you mean when I get hot?” he teases. “I can’t control the sun.”
“Zach,” you warn. He says your name with the same teasing tone.
“I’m serious,” you say.
“So am I,” he laughs.
You shake your head at him when he lifts up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the water off his lips. His eyes stay locked on your expression as yours drift down the cut of his abs.
Zach’s entire body buzzes when you look at him like that. He so deeply loves feeling wanted by you.
“You just don’t listen,” you mumble, taking your eyes off of him. He chuckles, letting his shirt fall back down.
“Come on, baby, it’s my fault it’s hot out?” he murmurs.
You can’t stifle your grin. Maybe he technically shouldn’t call you that if you’re pretending to be friends, but nobody can hear, and you love when he’s sweet like that.
“Everything’s your fault,” you say.
Zach winks at you before he turns to rush back to the game. It’s the type of silly banter that made you develop a crush on him so fast, and you’re glad you can at least flirt if you’re not going to sneak around anymore.
After the relay race, Tom reminds the campers that in a week and a half, you’ll be hitting the midpoint of the camp season, and as tradition goes, a staff soccer game will be held.
Even though it’s just a no-stakes match at camp to give the kids a fun chance to cheer on their counselors, you feel nerves twist in your stomach at the reminder.
Despite the fact that your love for soccer has slowly been finding its way back to you, your confidence still isn’t quite where you want it. And your instinct is to talk to Zach about it, to be comforted by the one person you’re trying to stay away from.
As you settle at your table for dinner that evening, you look for him in the crowd. He’s sitting at the head of his usual table, laughing in conversation. When he meets your eyes, you give him a smile. He returns it.
That evening after lights out, you’re lying in bed scrolling on your phone while Ami watches something on her laptop when you realize the nagging desire to see Zach is only getting harder to ignore.
You’ve also been considering telling him that your cabin-mate knows about him. It may just serve to worry him, but it feels wrong keeping something from him.
The way he looked on the hike when he said he missed you is stuck in your head. You miss him, too. As if you haven’t seen him in weeks.
It feels silly to keep your distance. You’re being too careful. You’re sure you can manage to hang out and keep your hands off of each other.
You hung out platonically before. Why can’t you do it again? There’s no rules against that. In fact, being friends is encouraged. You open your text conversation with Zach.
When Zach steps out of his cabin into the brisk air that night, he looks up at the sky to see he can hardly spot any stars. The air is thick with the threat of rain, but it’s stubborn, refusing to fall.
He heads out to the dock, sitting on the cool surface, his phone in his hand. Malcolm already fell asleep, so he decided to take his call outside to not wake him.
It’s never easy for him to be away from his family for very long. He appreciates checking in every so often, making sure his parents are doing okay, hearing how his sister’s summer is going.
As he catches up with them during the video call, at one point, his dad asks his mom where his glasses are and when she points off screen and his dad thanks her with a kiss to her temple, the simple, passing moment is a reminder to Zach of how loving his parents’ marriage is.
He grew up knowing that his mom and dad adore each other, that they believe they’re meant to be together. It’s fun to act grossed out by their affection, but in reality, he admires them. He’s never wanted to settle for less in a relationship.
Zach has always desired to be surrounded by love and approval. He’s sure his heart will never fully heal after his childhood, but when he knows he’s around people who like him, that wound feels much smaller.
And the way you accept him for everything that he is, never once looking at him with judgement, unconditionally offering compassion, gives him a sense of being complete, of that wound actually being gone. He hasn’t ever felt that before.
He looks out at the dark water, breathing slowly. He’s always thought of himself as an optimistic person, so it’s uncomfortable to be wallowing over his circumstances with you this much.
He forces himself to see the bright side. He may be facing weeks of not being able to be with you the way he wants to, but when the camp season wraps up and he goes back to his normal life, you won’t be living under any of these rules.
He’ll take you out on dates. He’ll hold your hand in public. And hopefully, you’ll still like him enough that he can introduce you to his family and officially be your boyfriend.
At that moment, his phone buzzes with a text. It’s you. havent worked on my defense in a while... do you have time to help a friend practice?
He grins, feeling the tension in his body dissipate.
You agree to meet on the field farthest from the staff cabins, positioned at the far edge of the campground. When you approach the pitch, Zach’s practicing kick-ups by the net under the bright moon.
“Show-off,” you say once you’re close enough. He looks up to see you, letting the ball roll away. His smile fades once he sees your bare arms under your t-shirt.
“Aren’t you cold?” he asks.
“No.” His concern remains etched on his face, quickly unzipping his hoodie and stepping closer.
“I’m fine,” you laugh, unsuccessfully protesting as he drapes his hoodie over your shoulders.
“Now you are,” he says, looking down at you with a relieved smile. He leans down to leave a chaste kiss on your cheek, then quickly pulls back.
“Sorry,” he says. “Not allowed.”
You chuckle, looking around into the silent darkness surrounding you.
“I think we can get away with it here,” you tell him. “But I figured if anyone sees us, we’re just two coworkers innocently practicing for the game.”
“I ever tell you you’re a genius?” he asks, cocking his head, his eyes trailing down your face.
“Don’t think so,” you reply.
“Well, you are,” he says.
“Thanks, baby.”
“Okay, you can’t call me that and not expect to be kissed,” he murmurs, cupping your jaw with his cool palm. He leans down to kiss you, slow, his lips just barely parting.
“We still have to be careful,” you sigh amusedly when he pulls away. “Let’s practice.“
“Right,” he says. “As friends.”
“As friends.”
Zach smirks, rushing to get the ball as you stand in front of the net, stretching to warm up your legs.
“How was your day?” he asks once he stands a few feet across from you, gently kicking the ball to you. “Barely broke a sweat, huh?”
You trap the ball below your foot with a gasp.
“What’s that mean?”
“You’re still gonna pretend standing next to a cooler is hard?” he asks.
You laugh and kick the ball with unexpected force, watching him dramatically dodge it as it whirls past him.
“Whoa, you mad or something?” he laughs.
“I don’t need your attitude or your hoodie,” you tease, pulling the sleeves off.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he relents, laughing harder. “Please put it back on.”
You roll your eyes and comply, loving how soft his sweater feels on your skin, loving how much it smells like him.
“Just go get the ball,” you say in resignation, a smile pulling at your lips.
“Yes, ma’am,” Zach replies.
You watch him jog towards the center line, expertly dribbling the ball when he reaches it. He comes forward and stops a few feet away from you.
“Hey, I have something to tell you,” you say. The guilt weighs even heavier on you when you see the worry in his gaze.
“What?”
“Ami knows about us,” you confess. “She saw my hickeys the other day and I couldn’t think of a lie fast enough. She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m sorry.”
His heart aches when he hears the distress in your voice.
“You’re sorry?” he says. “I’m the one who left them.”
You breathe out a chuckle, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater over your knuckles.
“You can be upset with me,” you mumble. “I know you didn’t want anyone knowing.”
“I’m not upset,” he replies. “It’s okay.”
“Really?” you ask.
Truthfully, hearing that someone else knows about you two makes him tense. It increases the risk of being found out, of disappointing his family, of ruining his reputation. But he can’t bear to make you feel any worse.
“Yeah. Don’t worry about it,” Zach says, keen to push past the topic. He kicks the ball to you. “So, your day?”
“It was good,” you say. “The hike was nice. But thinking about the staff game made me nervous. I guess I’m still not all that confident yet.”
“And you came to the best for help,” he says. You kick the ball back, laughing softly.
“I did.”
“You’ll get into your stride again,” Zach tells you. “I wasn’t just trying to flatter you the first night. You’re a really good defender. Honest.”
“Thank you,” you say, stopping the ball when he kicks it to you again. This is exactly why you wanted to come to him. He consoles you so effortlessly, already making the nerves unravel. “How was your day?”
“Good,” he says. “I actually just got off the phone with my family when you texted.”
“How are they?”
“Falling apart without me,” he answers sarcastically. “My sister was saying my dad doesn’t do monster checks right.”
“I’m sorry, what’s a monster check?” you laugh.
“A check for monsters, obviously,” he replies. “I’m usually the one that scouts out Avery’s room before bed, but since I’m not home, my dad’s in charge. And his heart’s just not in it.”
“That is not something to slack on,” you play along.
“Right?” he says. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing a monster might’ve flown under the radar.”
You laugh again, touched by how sweet of a big brother he is. You kick the ball to him and start training together.
It’s been just under ten minutes of practice when you feel a cool raindrop on your cheek. Zach’s towering over you, your legs brushing as he tries to gain possession of the ball, when you freeze and look up.
“I just felt rain,” you say, gently panting. He takes the opportunity to gaze at you as you stare up at the night sky, the moonlight washing your pretty face in its glow.
You lower your gaze to meet his eyes, revelling in the feeling of him looking at you like that, like you’re the only girl that exists. It reminds you of the way he stared at you when you met, needing you to repeat yourself because he was too out of it to pay attention to your words.
“Zach,” you giggle. “It’s raining. We should go.”
In that moment, he feels a raindrop on his head.
“Oh. Yeah,” he says. He bends to pick up the soccer ball, dreading how long the walk back to the staff cabins is.
You rush off the field, letting him grab your hand, enveloped in the darkness of the night. Drops of rain start to hammer down within seconds, cold moisture covering your clothes.
“Shit,” Zach chuckles, running faster, pulling you forward. “We won’t make it.”
You’re both laughing breathlessly when you run into the closest storage shed, shutting the door behind you, clothes sticking to you.
When Zach stumbles over something in the dark with a grunt, you laugh even harder, asking him if he’s okay between your cackles.
“I could have broken something,” he says, pretending he’s insulted, “and you’re laughing.”
You feel for him in the dark, cupping his bare forearms as he stumbles over the disorganized supplies scattered on the floor.
“Are you okay?” you repeat, facing him, trying to make out his features in the dark.
“Why don’t people ever clean up?” Zach complains. “It’s a safety hazard.”
“For the third time, are you okay?” you say amusedly. Your hands feel up his arms, cupping his face as the rain loudly drums on the roof.
“Yes,” he finally murmurs. He wishes it wasn’t so dark so that he could see you, but if he turned on the light, it’d be too easy for someone to notice.
“Good,” you whisper. You gently stroke his cheeks with your thumbs, feeling a bit of stubble over his jaw, his skin cool from the night air as he leans into your touch.
“That feels nice.” His voice is low and rough beneath the sound of pouring rain. You smile to yourself, adjusting to the dark, seeing that he shut his eyes.
“Then I’ll keep doing it,” you respond.
“You looked good out there,” he murmurs. “I mean, you’re skilled. You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re a solid soccer player.”
“So, to clarify, my playing looked good, but I didn’t?”
Zach lets out a tsk, finding your waist.
“Cut it out,” he scoffs. “You know how pretty you are.”
“I do?”
“Come on,” he mumbles. “Don’t even pretend to say bad things about yourself.”
“Or what?” you ask.
“I’ll cry. Is that what you want?”
You giggle, loving how easily he makes you laugh, feeling like you’ll be falling victim to your own impulses. And fast.
Cool down. You said you’d cool down. But there’s nothing cool about his lips pressing against yours when you pull him closer.
It’s only been a few days since you had a moment totally alone together, but when he kisses you with abandon, it’s like your body is getting its first drop of water after being parched.
As your kisses grow hungrier, Zach’s body melts into pure contentment. It’s perfect how you fit into each other, how his mind goes completely blank when he holds you, letting him ease into the bliss of your touch.
Your lips brush and your tongues graze and your breaths catch as you kiss, his grip on your waist tightening as your palms press on his cheeks.
“We’re bad at this,” you whisper when your lips part. “We’re bad at staying away from each other.”
“I’m okay with that,” Zach rasps, pulling you in tight, his body curving into yours.
You’re in a fog as you continue to make out, surrounded by him, listening to your shallow breaths and the heavy rain.
Your knees are weak by the time you pull away from each other, the roar of rain now reduced to calm droplets.
“What now?” Zach breathes. He needs to know if he’s going to go through the agony of not sneaking around with you anymore.
Every inch of his skin tingles with warmth. He wishes he could just lie down with you, not because he needs anything sexual, but because he hates the thought of saying goodnight and parting ways.
“I don’t know,” you reply. “I don’t like not kissing you. But I don’t like getting fired, either.”
Despite himself, he smirks, dipping his head to pull you into a hug and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You drape your arms around his broad shoulders, shutting your eyes as he squeezes you.
Zach breathes you in, feeling safer than he ever has in his life.
“I’m really glad you texted me,” he mumbles.
“Me, too,” you say.
When you sneak back into your cabin, still wearing his sweater, the fear you felt of getting caught the whole walk over reminds you of why you suggested you cool things down in the first place.
If you’re found out, it’s over. You’re still not sure what to do, if you should keep trying to stay away from him or just continue meeting in secret. But you do know that whatever you decide, Zach will respect it.
The next morning, you wake up with a sore throat. You realize you caught a mild cold from last night. And being sick in the middle of the summer while working an exhausting job is not ideal.
You barely make it through the day, then have an overnight shift in one of the campers’ cabins. By the next day, you’re a bit better, mainly dealing with muscle soreness.
After dinner, Zach notices the faraway look in your eyes as you sit across the fire and talk with campers. You were together just two nights ago, kissing and laughing, but you haven’t had a chance to speak privately since. And something seems wrong.
He discreetly pulls out his phone to text you: Are you ok?
You feel the buzz in your pocket and when you read his text, you meet his eyes, melting at the concern in his gaze. In an effort to ease his worry, you speak a little louder to the kids around you.
“Nobody caught my cold, right?” you ask. They shake their heads no.
“You’re sick?” Zach asks from the other side of the pit, over the chatter.
“A little,” you reply, your nose scrunching. “But the worst of it is over.”
Zach’s heart aches, upset that you’re in pain and that he didn’t notice sooner. It’s from the night you got caught in the rain together. He’s sure of it.
When he knocks on your door after lights out, even though he’s still uneasy about your cabin-mate knowing about you two, at least he doesn’t have to worry about how to look like a concerned friend and nothing more.
You’re sitting in bed when Ami swings open the door. Zach is standing on your front step, cupping something in his hands, his eyes darting between her and you.
“Hey,” he says, looking at you. “Thought I’d drop off some tea.”
Ami looks back at you, a grin on her face.
“You brought her tea?” she says. “That’s so sweet.”
“It is sweet,” you say with a shy smile. “Thank you.”
“Come in,” Ami says, stepping back. “You can hang out. I was about to go see what Malcolm’s up to anyway.”
“Really?” you ask, not buying it.
“He’s on an overnight,” Zach says.
“Is he? That’s crazy,” she says with a coy smile. She looks at you. “Text me.”
You know what she means; you need to let her know when she can come back since you and Zach might be in doing more than just hanging out.
Ami pulls a sweater over her pajama top and rushes out, leaving you and Zach alone in the cabin.
“Where’d you get tea?” you ask once the door shuts.
“From the office,” he says, crossing the room and setting the mug on your nightstand. He settles on the edge of your bed, inches away from you, gazing at you worryingly.
“I can get more if you need it,” he says. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re sick?”
“It’s really not that bad,” you tell him. “It’s just a headache now.“
He purses his lips, reaching forward to put the back of his hand on your forehead.
“I don’t think I have a fever,” you laugh.
“No other symptoms?”
“Just a sore throat yesterday, but it passed.”
“From being in the rain the other night?”
“That, and the stress of being scared we’ll get caught,” you laugh. He knows you’re joking, but his chest twists in pain. “Should I have told you?“
The question sets him aback for a moment, uncertainty rushing through him. You’ve been acting like you want a relationship, too, but maybe he’s being unrealistically hopeful.
Even though he’s been afraid to come on too strong, he needs to know, so he speaks before he can talk himself out of it.
“If I’m going to be your boyfriend, I need to know when you’re not feeling well,” Zach says.
You gaze at him for a silent few seconds. He’s unbelievably grateful when you lean forward and press your forehead into his chest, hugging him as best you can while you sit across from each other.
“It was just a little cold,” you mumble. “But I bet it would’ve been worse if my boyfriend didn’t make me wear his sweater.”
He cracks a smile, relieved, loving the way it sounds coming from you.
“Which you stole, by the way,” he says, making you laugh. He kisses the top of your head, then leans over to hand you the mug, steam curling from the top.
“Thank you,” you say. “How are you?”
You talk to each other about your days, swapping stories as you lean against the wall, taking slow sips.
“I’m cured,” you say once you’re done, setting the empty mug on the nightstand.
“Can I get you anything else?” he asks.
“Hugs,” you say, feeling desperate for his touch.
Zach grins, standing to let you comfortably lie down before he settles next to you. Your cheek is on his shoulder as he holds you in his arms, and when he lifts your chin to guide you into a kiss, you shake your head.
“You’ll get sick,” you warn.
“What? You said I cured you.” He pecks your lips gently, then shifts to kiss your forehead. “Where’s it hurt? Here?”
“Mhm,” you mumble.
“I don’t think it’s the cold,” he says. “Your head hurts because you think about me too much.”
You giggle, your hand trailing up and down his firm stomach.
“Oh, that must be it,” you say.
“I think about you too much, too.”
“You do?” You close your eyes as he continues to plant gentle kisses on your forehead. “What do you think about?”
“I mostly wonder when the next time I can be with you is,” he murmurs, “and how it can’t come fast enough.”
You stroke his chest, stopping to feel his heartbeat over the fabric of his shirt.
“Me, too,” you say. You trail back down his stomach and up again, arousal twisting in your core the more you feel him.
He sighs quietly. It’s unreal how just a minute of your touch does this to him. He’s already hard.
When you gently tug at his hip so he’ll turn on his side to face you, you feel him stiffen once his erection presses against your stomach, letting out a heavy exhale.
“I swear I didn’t come over to do this,” Zach murmurs, worried you’ll think he’d try to come by under false pretences just to hook up.
“I believe you,” you whisper against his neck, kissing softly, breathing in his scent.
Zach kisses the top of your head, cradling your jaw, revelling in the feeling of your affection, sure you can feel him growing even harder against you.
“I don’t know if – I mean, are we back to seeing each other?”
You shuffle back to meet his eyes, sympathy in your gaze.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been confusing,” you say. “I know I told you we should cool down just to make out with you like, two days later.”
“I’m not complaining,” Zach says with a soft chuckle. Maybe someone else would be frustrated, but everything about this summer has been unpredictable and he’s always been quick to adapt.
“I can’t decide what to do. I feel like you,” you tease.
“Hurtful,” he jokes, squinting.
“Remind me of how much time we have left before the season ends,” you say sadly.
“A month and three days.”
“It’s cute that you know the exact number.” The compliment makes his cheeks flush pink.
“Yeah, I’m pretty cute,” he replies. You laugh, your fingers dipping beneath the hem of his t-shirt. He bites his lip when he feels your skin against his, eyelids low.
“You’re very cute,” you say. “And very kind for coming to check on me.”
His heart is racing. You’re looking at him in that way he said you can’t look at him at work. It gets him all flustered, making him feel like you want him as bad as he wants you.
“And so sweet and so handsome,” you continue, your hand sliding up his back under his shirt. “And so good for me.”
“Baby,” he sighs happily, the praise making his head swim. “You know what that does to me.”
“That’s why I’m doing it,” you breathe. “One more night? Then, we cool down, for real?”
“But your head hurts.”
You shrug, admittedly still feeling tension in your temples.
“You made it better,” you say. He shifts lower to kiss you, gently sucking on your bottom lip, breathing heavily.
His thoughts are rushing like a current, the desire to make you feel good, to relax you in the best possible way burning deep inside him.
When he pulls back a bit, his lips brush against yours when he asks, “Can I kiss lower? Make you feel even better?”
You catch the weight of his words, the coil in you tightening even more.
“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”
“You never have to say please to me,” Zach says. “Not for that.”
You groan when he lowers to kiss your neck, down to your collarbones, over the swells of your breasts. He’s on his knees as he pulls up your shirt, trailing kisses up your stomach as he hungrily pulls down your pants.
You lift your hips to help him push them off, left in your panties in seconds.
Zach settles on his elbows, his eyes meeting yours as he rests with his head between your bent legs. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he puckers his lips against your inner thigh.
“You want this?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” you sigh happily.
“Me, too,” he says. “So bad.”
He kisses harder, surely going to leave a mark. His big hand drags over your knee, down your other thigh, resting at your pelvis.
His gaze refuses to leave yours, his lips still on your skin, when he lowers his hand to stroke his thumb over your middle. You moan softly, blinking slowly.
Like every other time he touches you, it feels like a dream. He can’t believe he gets to do this. The anticipation of knowing he’ll be tasting you soon makes his skin tingle.
Zach is agonizingly slow with his kisses, planting them all up one thigh, then moving to the other, then dipping to kiss right above where you need him most, over your underwear.
You lace your fingers in his messy hair, not pushing or pulling, just feeling his head move with every kiss, trying to be patient.
Finally, he puts his mouth over your core, kissing over the fabric, pulling a shudder out of you.
He can feel how wet you are, earning a taste of you, and it makes him ache with need. He looks up at you again as he gently pulls at the band of your panties.
Once you kick them off, his lips part in awe when you readjust to slightly spread your legs.
“Fuck,” he breathes. It’s almost nerve-racking, the way he’s staring at you. You’ve never been looked at like this. He gently pushes your knee down so he can see more of you.
“Fuck,” he says again, groaning through the word this time. He can’t wait any longer, lowering to press his lips against you. Your body rolls with pleasure when he makes contact, his lips warm and wet and soft, puckering against you.
Zach leaves countless kisses on you, angling his head so that he can give every part of you equal attention, licking his lips in between so that he can savor you.
You arch your back as he starts to languidly tongue you, letting out low moans and warm breaths. His nose presses against your groin, the sound of his wet kisses filling the room.
You run the heel of your palm over his head, caressing him, and he starts to suck your clit, his lips locked tightly.
“That feels so good,” you whisper. The way his mouth is working you sends waves of easy, soft satisfaction through you.
He threshes his tongue, gazing up at you as your face pinches in pleasure. You meet his eyes again, seeing how utterly intoxicated he looks to be doing something so intimate with you.
Zach pulls back, lips smacking off of you, panting now. He runs his hand up to your hip to find your hand and lace his fingers in yours.
“You taste so sweet,” he says, his tone thick with ecstasy, before leaning down again. It’s even better than he even imagined. You’re so slick and hot against his tongue. He could do this for hours.
You continue to run your fingers through his hair with one hand as you squeeze his fingers with the other, soft sighs spilling from your mouth. When you feel his tongue dip into you, you have to bite your bottom lip to quiet your moan.
His groans vibrate against you, guiding you into a state of pure solace. He pulls his hand away from yours to stroke his thumb in gentle circles over your clit as he tongues you. Every inch of your body tingles.
“Don’t stop,” you breathe. “That’s perfect.”
The praise spurs him on. His jaw is sore from how much his tongue is writhing inside you, but your pleasure is worth it.
The orgasm reaches you quickly, a million fireworks of ecstasy bursting through you, pushing you to quiver beneath him.
Zach kisses you as you come down from your high, shifting up to kiss your thigh, then your sternum, then finally your lips.
You meet his lips lazily and tenderly, tasting yourself on him. When you slowly trail your hand down his stomach to palm him over his sweats, he pulls back.
“No, baby,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you doing any work. Just rest tonight.”
He’s rock hard. You can tell how bad he needs the release. You want to do this for him, no matter how dazed you are. But you know he’ll feel guilty if he feels like you’re straining yourself.
“Then you do the work,” you whisper. “The condoms are in the bottom drawer.”
Zach sighs, kissing between your eyebrows, breaths shallow.
“I made you sore last time.”
“A good sore,” you breathily laugh.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
“I want you,” you say.
Your lids are low as Zach shifts to find a condom, pulling down his sweats and boxers, rolling it on carefully. His large frame leans over you, a flush coloring his cheeks as he looks down at you.
“I’m going slow,” he tells you.
“Whatever you want,” you say, and you mean it.
He holds himself at his base, slowly dipping himself into where his tongue was just minutes ago. His breath is strained as he sinks into you, wrapped in your soft heat.
He’s close to bottoming out, and stops, stroking your cheek.
“Still good?” he rasps.
“Yes,” you say. “Keep going.”
Zach sinks into you completely, taking a moment to savor how nice it is to be deep inside you again. His mouth is at the crook of your neck as he slowly starts to thrust back and forth, your bodies meeting with soft smacks.
The pressure of him is hard and perfect as your body rocks with his movements. You shut your eyes, swimming in bliss, breathing out short sighs into his ear as he rocks in and out.
He can’t believe how nicely you’re squeezing him, how perfect you feel, how lucky he is to be here right now. Your bed squeaks when he starts to move faster, his muscles tensing as you wrap your arms around him.
“Still okay?” Zach whispers.
“Yes,” you say. “Come for me.”
Your words are everything to him, the tender dominance he so deeply loves spinning him into a euphoric high. The way you make him feel makes the world stand still, makes him feel like perfection can exist.
He kisses you deeply, his stomach tautening as he comes. He continues to thrust slowly as he rides out the pleasure.
When he collapses, you kiss his cheek over and over, running your hand over the back of his head.
“Thank you,” he whispers. You smile weakly.
“Thank you,” you say.
Zach doesn’t let you stand up. After he gets dressed, he grabs a towel to help clean you up, gentle and slow. You’re still lying on your back when he sits at the end of your bed to pull your panties up over your ankles.
“You always gonna do that?” you tease quietly. “Put my clothes back on after?”
“Yes,” he says. He pulls them all the way up, then drags your pants up, too, before lying down next to you. You shuffle into the position you were in before, your cheek on his shoulder, his arms around you.
“My headache’s gone,” you tell him, “and I’m not just saying that.”
Zach’s chest gently bounces as he laughs.
“Good,” he says. He rubs up and down your arm. “Just tell me when I should go.”
“How’s never?” you ask. He smiles. His heart has never felt warmer.
“Doable,” he chuckles, kissing your forehead. “And… I’m with you. We’ll wait until the end of the season. I don’t want you stressed out, baby.”
“Okay,” you agree. It’s bittersweet and a month and three days have never felt so long, but you agree.
Eventually, you pull yourselves apart. You kiss Zach goodbye and text Ami that the coast is clear.
The next few days are a busy haze, full of stolen glances between you and Zach, and before you know it, it’s the midpoint of the season, the day of staff game.
It’s a scorching afternoon as you warm up on the pitch, eyes flitting to Zach as he jogs on the other side of the field.
Both teams were randomly assigned, and when you noticed that Zach was wearing a red vest over his t-shirt, not matching your blue one, you internally sighed.
You miss him. And if you were on the same team, at least you’d have a perfectly valid reason to talk with him right now.
The campers are seated under canopies on the touchline, already in a spirited cheer-off, rooting for the team their counselors are on.
Ruby blows the whistle to signal the start of the game. Your team keeps the ball on the other side of the field for the first little while, but remain goalless, until eventually, the red team starts to move in.
You’re focused, feeling more confident about your playing than you have in a while. You know you have Zach to thank. You hope you have the opportunity to tell him soon.
You’re quick on your feet as you watch the red team retain possession, the ball quickly spinning back and forth over the grass.
Finally, they make their move, with Zach leading. With slightly bent knees, you watch as he approaches the goal. You’re the only person left between him and your goalie.
He fakes left, but you call his bluff, stepping right to successfully kick it away. A chorus of groans sounds from the campers and some of his teammates.
“Oh, come on, Zach!” Malcolm shouts from the halfway line. “Obviously you want to go easy on your girl, but have some pride.”
“Chill, Malcolm,” Ami shouts back, laughing uneasily. You look back at your teammate, wondering if she broke her promise and told him about you. Or maybe Zach let him know at some point.
Or maybe Malcolm doesn’t know anything and you’re just reading into it. Your eyes dart to Zach as he jogs away. He looks back, his expression tense.
The game ends in a 0-0 draw, and Ruby decides it should come down to a penalty shootout just to end it with a bang. To your surprise, Zach misses, hitting the post. He looks rattled. Your team wins.
After lights out, you replay the moment on the field in your head, wondering how many people heard Malcolm. You want to question Ami about it, but you don’t get a chance to before she leaves for her overnight shift.
You step out into the humid night, figuring a walk will be a good way to clear your head. The anxiety eventually is too big to avoid, so you text Zach: everything alright? does Malcolm know?
As you pace past the camper cabins on your loop around the campground, you see that he replied. I asked him after the game. He knows. Ami told him.
You send a sigh up to the starry sky. She promised. Now not only is the secret out to two people, but considering that Malcolm is Zach’s best friend, maybe he was offended that Zach didn’t tell him, causing even more issues.
You text him: crap. sorry. do you want to talk about it?
You’re surprised and a little slighted to see him text back: It’s all good.
When you reach the staff area, you see Zach’s tall figure heading down the steps of his cabin.
Zach never thought he wouldn’t be glad to see you. But after the tense conversation he just had with Malcolm, he knows that the worry he’s harboring over the very real possibility that his aunt heard Malcolm’s words on the field today won’t make him good company.
He knows it’s not your fault. He willingly went into this with you. He pursued it. He left the marks on your body that exposed you. He should be mad at Malcolm for what he shouted today, and Malcolm only.
But he has a voice in the back of his mind pestering him, frustrated that you didn’t just hide it better and not tell Ami. And he feels like shit for being a little mad at you.
You already saw him. He’s not going to be a dick and ignore you. He’s going to pretend he’s fine.
“Hi,” you say softly, stopping in front of your cabin.
“Hey,” he says. “Out for a walk?”
“Are you mad at me?” you ask.
“What? No,” he says. “Why do you think that?”
“It feels like…” You hold up your phone. “I don’t know, this is the type of thing you’d want to talk about. But you just brushed me off.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “We’re keeping our distance, right?”
You cross your arms, unable to shake the feeling that he’s not being totally honest. You know him well enough by now. Maybe he’s good at putting on a show for other people. But it’s not working on you.
“Zach, is this… is this what you talked about before?” you ask over the crickets chirping loudly around you. “When you said you don’t like to admit it when something’s bothering you?“
He looks down, his tongue jutting from under his cheek.
“Are you mad at me?” you ask again.
He’s silent. His mind is totally blank. He’s never been good at this. He hates that he can’t control how he feels. He feels like a bad person for being upset with someone so sweet who didn’t mean any harm.
“This just… it sucks,” Zach mumbles.
You nod slowly. It’s not a clear answer, but it’s enough. Your heart feels too heavy to force a conversation.
“Yeah,” you say. “It does.”
You turn to go up to your cabin. It hurts when he doesn’t stop you.
(part seven)
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samanthacastano02 · 3 months ago
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Christmas Love (18+)
Seungmin x FemReader
Warnings: Smut, PnV, Unprotected sex (Don’t do(Use protection)), Breeding Kink, Oral (fem rec), Making love, Fingering, talks of pregnancy, reader is pregnant in epilogue (epilogue isn't important to the story so you don't have to read it, you wont miss anything important, just some banter between all the members), Cursing, probably more, MDNI 18+
Photos not mine, credits go to the photographers
Word Count: 4.8k
Summary: Seungmin comes home from doing his Chanel photoshoot, his outfit turns you on to no end. You decide to take things to the bedroom, having fun with each other. Things take a romantic turn and you and Seungmin forgo the condom. (I have no idea what to write as a summary for this) 
Minors Do Not Interact 18+
It was late but I knew that Seungmin would be home soon from his Chanel photoshoot. He had said that I could go with him but my week had been busy and I wanted to stay home and relax for a little while. I knew that he was slightly disappointed but would never hold that against me, and there was always next time. I was lounging on the couch watching a random k-drama when he walked through the front door, slipping off the nice dress shoes he had on and slipping on his house slippers. When he walked into the living room he stopped in shock when he saw that I was still awake, I was so engrossed into the show that I hadn’t even heard him come home. 
“Love what are you still doing awake?”
“Jesus Seungminnie, you scared me, warn a girl.”
“Sorry love. Must be a good show if you’re that into it.” he said as he walked over to the couch, lifting me up gently while sitting down, cuddling me into him. He may seem off standish with his band members but this man hates to not have some type of skinship with me.
“It’s very good, how was the shoot? I love the outfit that they have you in.”
“It was good, I knew that you would love it.” he said while kissing my forehead.
“Stay’s going to go crazy when they see it, you know that right?” “Oh, I know that. The stylist and I were joking about that while we were leaving. Did I tell you that her boyfriend finally proposed?” “Finally?! After what, seven years?” 
“Yep, she said that she was going to send us a wedding invite whenever they get the wedding date set.”
“I’m excited and happy for her. She deserves to have the best day ever, she's been a godsend for dealing with your dumbass for the last four years.”
“My wife must hate me.” he feigned dramatically
“Minnie, you are so dramatic.” I kissed his cheek, he feigned being upset by shoving his face into my neck. 
“Why must you hate me?”
“You’re a dork.” ‘But I’m your dork.” he kissed my neck repeatedly.
“Minnie stop that tickles.” “Never, I'm gonna do it even more now.” he continues to kiss my neck, I try to wiggle out of his arms to escape but in the process he tightens his arms around me.
“Minnie.” I sigh on accident when he kisses my sweet spot.
“You're a tease, wiggling.”
“You’re the one who was kissing me, I was just trying to escape.” I try to defend myself as he slowly continues kissing my neck, no longer in a teasing manner. I tilt my head back, giving him better access.
“Mhm, sure.” he begins to kiss my neck to my jaw. Slowly my body was getting more and more heated. 
“Seungmin please.”
“Please what, my love.” “I want more.” “More what?”
“You're going to make me say it aren’t you.”
“Always.” “I want you. Can we please move this to the bedroom?” I whine into his chest, trying to hide my face from him.
“Of course my love.” He grabs my chin gently, tilting my head up towards him. He kisses my lips softly. Before I can even respond he’s standing up with me in his arms and walking us towards our bedroom. I lean my head on his shoulder, pressing soft kisses to the exposed skin as his shirt moves. 
When we enter the bedroom he gently lays me on the bed, he stares down at me with so much love and compassion that it brings tears to my eyes because I know that this man would do anything for me and I would do anything for him. He gently crawls onto the bed over top of me, looking at me deep in the eyes. 
“You are so beautiful Jagi.”
“Minnie, I love you.” I blush brightly at his words. 
“I love you, beautiful. Can I take this off?” He tugs at my sweatshirt, that happened to actually be his, that I had been wearing.
“Yes, please.” I respond quickly, he soon wastes no time in dragging the sweatshirt over my head and throwing it somewhere across the room, knowing that we’ll find it in the morning. 
“God I can never get enough of your body, do you see what you do to me?” he asks me, he pushes his hips into me to prove his point even more. I grab onto the sides of his shirt, hinting that I want it off. With quick work he drags it over his head, leaving him in his black dress pants and me in my sweats. 
“If stays were in my position, they’d lose their ever loving mind. I don’t think they’d be able to handle how hot you are.” I say while tugging on the necklaces that he still had on, wanting to kiss him. He was blushing fiercely, hiding his face in my neck again, leaving open mouthed kisses. 
“No one but you gets to see me this way, this is a privilege only meant for you my love.” he begins leaving kisses down my body. Starting at my cheek and working his way down to my neck and ending at my sweatpants right above my pantie line. 
“My love, can I take these off?” he gently tugged at the hem of my sweats.
“Yes, please baby please.”
With quick work he tugged them off, quickly throwing them behind him. They disappeared so quickly that I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Seungmin looked up at me while I was laughing, he didn’t know what I was laughing at but he started laughing with me. 
“My love, what are we laughing at?”
“Just at how eager you were to take off my pants.”
“I mean can you blame me, you have on my favorite pair of your panites. Your lacie black pair, it’s like you wanted me to ruin you tonight.” “I mean maybe I wanted to get lucky tonight, but not necessarily ruined.”
“Love, you know that any time you wear these, you're getting ruined.” I look at him, laugh and roll my eyes at him. He just smirks at me and begins to leave kisses up the sides of my thighs. 
“You know, it’s not fair that I’m pantsless while you still have pants on.”
“If you wanted me to take my pants off all you had to do was ask.” He smirked at me while standing up to take off his dress pants. When he slid them off, his arousal became much more prominent. 
“Shut up and come here.” I make grabby hands at him, he just chuckles at me and climbs back over me, nudging my legs apart so that he can slot his hips between them. He gently rests his hips at the apex of my thighs, allowing me to actually feel just how turned on he is. 
He leans down and begins to kiss me, wrapping his arms around me. I feel him unclip my bra with one hand, so I arch my back so that he can remove it which leaves me only in my panties. As we continue to kiss he begins to grind himself into me, causing both of us to moan out in pleasure.
“Seungmin please, I want more.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you.” “You gotta be specific, love.”
“Anything, just please do something.” he seems to get an idea, as he begins to kiss down to my panties. Soon he reaches my panty line but skips over them and begins kissing my thighs, starting at my knee and kissing up until he's almost at where I want him before stopping and then he switches over to the other leg, kissing up that leg until he stops just shy of where I want him.
“What do you want my love?”
“I want your mouth, please.” “Can I take these off?” he tugs at my panties.
“Yes, god please.”
I think he’s gonna take them off with his hands but he shocks me by biting the top of them with his teeth and dragging them down before finally pulling them off and spreading me wide for him. He looks at me like I’m his next meal and I begin to shake with excitement because I know what’s to come. He throws my panties across the room to where the rest of our clothes are and then looks up at me for permission, I give him a quick nod. That’s all he needs before he dives in, his mouth immediately attaches to my clit. He sucks it into his mouth, licking at it and prodding at my entrance before moving back to my clit. He eats me out like it’s his last meal, he knows all of the right places and it feels so good that I can’t keep quiet even if I tried, not that I want to. I soon feel fingers prodding at my entrance, before they push into me. He angles his fingers just right that it’s hitting my sweet spot, making me see stars. I moan loudly at the pleasure that he’s bringing me, he never gives me his cock before making me finish on his fingers and tongue, both he and I don’t enjoy quickies so we don’t do anything unless we have time for it. That doesn’t mean that we don’t tease each other though. Soon I hear him moaning along with me and I muster up enough strength to look down at him between my legs and see that he is grinding himself down on the bed while eating me out, I moan out loudly at that. He has always gotten off on bringing pleasure, he always said that my pleasure was his pleasure. He could always finish just by making me finish. He repeatedly hit my sweet spot and soon I could feel the pressure in my stomach building to its peak, I knew that I was close.
“Oh god Seugnmin. I’m close, please don’t stop.” at that he seemed to suck harder but kept his fingers going at the same pace. There was a new feeling and I felt like I had to pee, I tried to push his head away but he wouldn’t budge. 
“Seungmin!” I moan his name loudly as I finish, squirting all over his mouth and chin. He pulls away from me with a lazy smile. 
“Minnie, I’m so sorry.”
“Baby, why are you sorry?” “I don’t know what my body just did.”
“Baby, you just squirted.”
“What!”
“It’s ok, it was hot as fuck.” I didn’t have a response for him, so I just leaned up, kissing him on the lips. Tasting myself as he deepened the kiss, pushing me back so that I was laying down again. He came to hover over me again, he looked like a god over me. 
“Do you want to continue?” “Yes, please.”
With my response he got off of the bed and took off his underwear, his cock sprang free and smacked his lower stomach. No matter how many times we have sex, I always get excited by how big he is. He’s big and he knew how to use it, and he had the stamina of a dancer and could go for hours if he wanted to. He began to walk over to the nightstand, reaching for the box of condoms that we kept there but I grabbed his wrist before he could pull the drawer open. 
“Love?” “What if we maybe didn’t use a condom tonight?” “But you aren’t on any form of birth control?” He asked, confused.
“I know, I was sort of thinking. We’ve been married for two years, it might be nice to have a little you or me.” “Are you saying what I think your saying?” “I want to start trying for a family Seungmin.” I say hopeful. “Really?” “Yes, I know it’s a big decision. I know we haven’t talked about it much, it’s ok if you don’t want to or aren’t ready. Forget I mentioned anything.” I panicked, reaching for the drawer with the condoms and began to pull one out but he grabbed my wrist stopping me.
“My love, if you are sure, I would love nothing more than to have a family with you.” he looked into my eyes to see if there was any doubt, but he didn’t find any.
“I’m sure Seungmin, I want this with you. I know that you are still touring but Chan has offered time and time again for me to join you guys and the guys would probably be over the moon to have me on tour, and when the baby got here they’d be the best uncles.” “”If you’re sure, then so am I.” He got onto the bed, kissing me sweetly. 
“I’m sure Seungmin.”
With that he slowly positioned his cock head at my entrance, he locked eyes with me as he pushed himself into me. The stretch of him shocked me everytime, he still went slow, going inch by inch until his hips were flush with mine. He dropped down to his elbows, sliding his hands under my head but keeping his arms out to support himself, it was soon obvious that this wasn’t going to be fast and rough like our usually fucking. It was going to be sweet and slow, not fucking but love making. He was looking into my eyes with so much love that it took my breath away. 
“God, y/n I love you so much.”
“I love you Seungmin. You can move.” With that he slowly began to pull out, pulling out until only the tip of him was left, before he slowly thrust back into me. He thrust hard enough that it felt good but not hard enough that it would be considered hard fucking
“You feel so good, so tight.” “You're so deep.” 
“You take me so we.” He pressed down on my stomach, intensifying the pleasure for both of us. At the same time we both moaned when he thrust into me.
“Seungmin!” I moan out loudly. He picks up the pace a little, but not by much enough that the bed is rocking into the wall.
He continues to thrust into me, focusing on making me finish before he finishes. He sucks love bites into the side of my neck and top of my chest. The pleasure was so intense that I could barely keep my eyes open but I wanted to see everything that he was doing to me, but soon it became too much and my head fell back. 
“You are so beautiful like this y/n, you’ll look so beautiful with my baby.”
“Seungminnie you can’t talk like that.”
“Why, you gonna finish too fast?” He snaps his hips hard into me, teasingly.
“Minnie.” I moan into his ear. “I’m going to pump you so full of cum it’ll have no choice but to stick.”
“Please! Please Minnie, I want it.”
“Yeah? You wanna be my good girl, wanna be my baby mama?”
“Yes! I’ll be so good for you.” “I know you will baby, I want to go slow but I’m so close. Are you close, baby?”
“I’m so close, please Seungmin.” I beg him, wanting him to finish. 
“Can I go hard, just for the last bit?” “Please baby!”
With my permission he snaps his hips even harder into me, picking up the pace even more. He is thrusting so hard into me now that my body is being forced up the bed, not that either of us care at this point in time. We are both so close that the only thing that either of us can care about is reaching that finish line together. I want to reach it with him, so I reach my hand between our bodies and begin to rub my clit, bringing myself closer to finishing. My body begins to shake and that's my tell tale sign that I’m close so I remove my hand and grab both of Sungmin's, which he pins above my head. He thrusts hard into me, rapid and frantic, but oh so good. It takes three more thrusts before we finish together, with a cry of each other's names. As he comes down from his high, he stays inside of me but flips me so that I am laying on top of him, he is worried that I might enter subdrop, he scoots us over to the side of the bed and reaches for the glass of water I randomly had there left over from last night. He sits me up and has me slowly drink from it, before slowly pulling out of me. After seeing that i’m not going to enter a sub drop he lays me down on the bed and walks into the bathroom, as my eyes sleepily close I can hear the bath water running. 
When I next wake up, I’m cuddled in Seungmins arms in bed while he’s scrolling aimlessly on his phone. I must have fallen asleep and he must have bathed me and gotten me into a new set of pajamas before changing himself. When he notices that I’m awake he puts his phone down and smiles at me, giggling to himself.
“Going raw for the first time must have done a number on you baby.” “Why do you say that?”
“You fell asleep before I could even get you into the bath.” He chuckled quietly.
“I mean, it was a new feeling. Which felt amazing by the way.” “It did, I don’t know how we’ve gone this long without trying it.” “Me either, but we don’t have to worry about going back to condoms for a while, right?” I ask him, hopeful.
“If you were serious about wanting a baby, then so was I. I want what you want, baby.” “I want a baby with you Seungmin. I think you would make such a great father.” “And I think that you would make such a great mother.” With that he tugs me down under the covers more, and I can feel myself get tired again. We both drift off into dreamland holding each other and dreaming of the future. 
Epilogue 
It’s been two months of trying and after last month's negative test, it was hard to want to keep trying, the excitement of it all was now scary. What if you couldn’t get pregnant, what if there was something wrong with me. Seungmin sat on the couch with Me while you cried and voiced my worries, but he kept reassuring me that you would keep trying until it happened, and if it didn’t happen, then we could always talk about other options. 
I was hopeful but I didn’t want to be because I had been feeling sick and my period was a week late. I hadn’t mentioned anything to Seungmin yet because I knew that he was preparing for a comeback and I didn’t want him to also worry about me even if he said that was his job as my husband. I knew that with my period being a week late I needed to take a test but I wanted to wait until he was home. As soon as he walked in the door, I mentioned it to him.
“Minnie, I think I need to take another test.” I said to Seungmin once he got settled in from coming home from the studio for the day.
“Why do you say that, my love?”
“My period is a week late.”
“It is?” He asks me with a hopeful gleam in his eye.
“Yes. I wanted to wait until you were home though, to take the test.”
“Well, I’m here now my love.” he kissed my head.
“I’ll go take it.” I said nervously 
I walked past him into our bedroom, ready to take the test, having to use the restroom for the better half of the day but not wanting to take the test without him and scared that if I went I wouldn’t be able to go again when he got home even though logically I would be able to. I quickly peed into a cup, wanting to be able to take more than one test. I know the web said it’s better to wait until the morning to take the test but I couldn’t wait that long, nerves and excitement were getting the better of me. After I dipped the plethora of tests into the cup, I dumped the rest out and washed my hands, before calling Seungmin into the bathroom. I didn’t want to wait for the results alone. He heard me call him and rushed into the bathroom, he obviously didn’t quite know how pregnancy tests worked. 
“Do you have the results?” He asked me excitedly.
“Not yet baby, I just didn’t want to wait alone, I’m nervous.” I wrapped my arms around his waist.
“Ah, it’s ok my love. Whatever the results are, we will get through it, ok?” He wrapped his arms around me tightly, kissing my head. He led me over to the side of the bathtub, sitting on the edge before pulling me onto his lap. He knew that I had set a timer already.
“I know, I just want this so badly.” “I know, so do I. It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen.” “I know, I just hope that it’s meant to happen now.”
“I do too, my love.”
“I love you Seungmin.” “And I love you y/n.” he kissed me gently. 
As we wait for the timer to go off we sit together in silence and hold each other. The silence isn’t awkward, it’s peaceful and comforting because we both know that no matter what happens we will both be there for each other. Before we both knew it the five minutes were up, the box said three but I set the timer for five to give Seungmin and I an extra two minutes to prepare ourselves for whatever the outcome may be. Seungmin gently taps my bottom to signal me to stand up so that he can check the test for me, knowing that I’m too nervous to do it, I quickly stand up and walk with him over to the counter where the tests are. He stops in front of them, turning towards me, hugging me tightly before grabbing one of the tests. He looks at me for confirmation to see if I’m ready or not, when he sees that I nod at him he flips the test over. 
I watch his face for any reaction, I see his eyes tear up, I can’t tell if they are happy tears or if they are sad tears. I take a step towards him before lifting a shaky hand towards him. He turns the test towards me, and when I look at it, I can clearly see it say, pregnant. I immediately burst into tears, wrapping my arms around Seungmin. He drops the test and wraps both of his arms around me, crying into my neck, while also kissing my neck. 
“I can’t believe it baby, we’re gonna be parent’s.” I say excitedly to him. “I can’t either, this is the best news ever.” he kisses my face repeatedly
Later that night:
Seungmin and I lay in bed, his hand laying on my stomach, drawing lazy circles. I’m in and out of sleep drained from the emotional excitement of the day, but I would take this excitement over the heartache of not being pregnant any day. Seungmin taps me awake when he notices that I’m drifting off, I look up at him sleepily, wondering why he won't let me sleep.
“What’s up baby?”
“I want you to come with me to practice tomorrow.” “Why?”
“I want you to be there with me when I tell the boys.” “Shouldn't we wait to tell them?” “You know that I can’t keep a secret from them.” “You're right. You really can’t.” I sigh
“It would only be the boys.” “Only the boys? No one else?”
“Only the boys.” “Ok, I’ll go with you tomorrow then.” “Perfect. Sleep now my love.”
The next morning:
Seungmin tried to let me sleep for as long as possible before waking me to come with him to go to practice. I knew that once we told the boys I could either crash on the couch in the practice room like old times or their driver would take me home. He didn’t tell the boys that I would be joining him today, so they were pleasantly surprised when both Seungmin and I walked into the practice room hand in hand. 
“Hey pup, y/n.” Chan said as he looked up from where he was stretching on the floor. Felix and Hyunjin stopped messing around across the room and made their way over, Han and Lee Know got up from the couch, standing nearby now. Changbin and I.N. came into the room behind us, Changbin rustled SeungMin's hair but he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed. 
“What are you doing here y/nnie?” I.n asked, giving me a hug. 
“There’s something that Seungmin wanted to tell you guys, but he wanted me here for it.”
“What’s that?” Felix asked, curious now.
“You aren’t leaving the group are you?” Lee Know asked nervously. 
“Yah, don’t ask that. We don’t need that negative energy.” Chan jumped up quickly, smacking Lee Know upside the head. 
“God no, why would you ever even ask that. I would only ever leave this group in a body bag or the military service. Sorry baby.” Seungmin responded.
“I know how much you love being in this group babe, I’d never ask you to leave it.” “Gah, you two are sickenly cute.” Hyunjin dramatically exclaims.
“Nice to see you too Hyunjin.” I wave to him.
“You too y/nnie.” he waves back smiling at me.
“So what is it that you wanted to tell us?” Han asks, getting us back on track.
“Oh yea. Y/n’s pregnant.” “No way! That’s amazing, congratulations y/nnie.” Chan walks up to me, giving me a hug. The rest of the boys follow suit, giving similar congratulations. 
“You know, I always thought that it would be Channie who would have kids first out of all of us.” I.n pips up first. 
“Honestly same.” Seungmin says from next to me.
“What can I say, the Mrs isn’t ready yet. She just wants it to be the two of us for right now.” Chan replies.
“I just know that Stays are going to lose their shit when they find out that not only are you not single but you're married.” I tell him teasingly 
“It’ll be funny when they figure out it’s her that I wrote Railways about.”
“And Drive and Connected and Red Lights.” Hyunjin calls from across the room where he continues to stretch. 
“Yea yea. Call me out all you want.” Chan calls back to him.
“It’s ok Chan, she loves it. And so do Stays.” I tease him 
“But seriously, congrats guys. I’m really happy for you.” Chan gives both Seungmin and I hugs.
“Seungmin, does this mean you're going to go on hiatus?” Felix asks.
“No, I know Chan has offered it before in the past when we’ve gone on tour, and I assume the offer still stands but y/n plans to travel with us. During her pregnancy and after. The only time I’ll go on hiatus is right before the baby is born until the baby is around six months, then y/n and the baby will travel with us. As long as that's still ok with Chan?” Seungmin explains.
“That should be fine, the fans know that you have a wife. It might make it a little more tricky traveling wise but we can make it work.” Chan responds.
“I actually wanted to talk to both you and Seungmin about that.” I respond before Seungmin gets the chance.
“What’s up babe?” Seungmin asks.
“With me being pregnant now, I think it’s time that your fans know what I look like. They’ve always been supportive of the fact that you’ve been married, and now that we’re expecting, if they know what I look like it’ll make it easier to get through the airport if I can walk with you guys and your security.”
“That's a good point actually, y/n.”
“I agree, my love.” “Then it’s settled, we will talk to staff and on the next scheduled live stream for you, we will have y/nnie join you.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I spend the rest of the day watching the boys practice for their upcoming comeback and dosing on the couch. Seungmin asks me multiple times throughout the day if I want to go home but I’d rather stay here with him and be surrounded by the people that I love most. I know that everything will be ok.
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antinousletmehit · 3 months ago
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Don't be shy give us the drafts 😈
Telemachus adjusted his drafting table, the low hum of the college studio room filling the air as he meticulously worked on his latest architectural blueprint. He had a midterm project due, and Professor Hephaestus had made it clear that he expected perfection. “Still drawing your little squares and triangles, Telemachus?” came a familiar, mocking voice from behind.
Telemachus sighed but didn’t look up. “Hello, Antinous.” Antinous, y/n’s older brother, sauntered into the room, his forensic textbooks tucked under his arm. His sharp grin made it clear he was in the mood to antagonize. “You know, while you’re busy doodling, some of us are out here studying real sciences. Forensics, the stuff that actually solves mysteries and makes a difference.”
Telemachus rolled his eyes. “And yet, here you are, interrupting me instead of solving mysteries.”
“Antinous!” Y/n’s voice cut through the room like a knife. She strode in, her physcology notes in hand and an exasperated expression on her face. “Are you seriously bothering Telemachus again?”
Antinous leaned casually against the wall, clearly unfazed. “I’m just trying to inspire the kid. Maybe he’ll switch to a major with some… weight.”
“Being an architect requires more creativity and discipline than you’ll ever understand,” she snapped, planting her hands on her hips. “You can’t just tear people down because you think your major is better. Also, maybe focus on your own work instead of harassing others.”
Telemachus smirked at her lecture but quickly covered it with a cough. “It’s fine, y/n. I’m used to it.”
“No, it’s not fine,” she said, glaring at her brother.
Antinous groaned, dramatically throwing his hands up. “Fine, fine! I’m leaving. Have fun with your rulers and compasses, Telemachus.”
As Antinous strolled out, she sighed and sat next to Telemachus. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just jealous because you’re better at focusing than he is.”
Telemachus chuckled. “I appreciate the backup. I don’t know how you deal with him.”
She shrugged. “He’s my brother. It’s a full-time job keeping him in line. Anyway, need a break? I brought coffee.”
“Please,” Telemachus said, setting his pencil down. “You’re a lifesaver.” And as they sipped their coffee, Antinous’ teasing was quickly forgotten—at least until the next time he decided to crash their study session.
——
In Antinous and Eurymachus’ shared dorm, the atmosphere was a mix of chaos and disarray. Girl’s panties were strewn across the floor, empty takeout containers balanced precariously on the edge of the desk, and the faint smell of cologne hung in the air. Eurymachus was sprawled on his bed, scrolling through his phone, clearly uninterested in the pile of ELA assignments stacked on his desk. Antinous paced the room like a caged lion, his arms flailing as he launched into yet another rant.
“I’m telling you, Eurymachus,” Antinous started, his voice sharp with frustration, “y/n is way too young to be hanging out with guys like Telemachus. She’s barely even out of high school, and now she thinks she can just… what? Be friends with him like it’s nothing?”
Eurymachus didn’t even look up from his phone. “Dude, she’s in college. Same as you. She’s not a kid.”
“She is a kid,” Antinous snapped, pointing an accusatory finger in the air. “She’s my baby sister. She has no idea how guys think, how manipulative they can be. And Telemachus? Don’t even get me started. He’s got that whole quiet, ‘I’m-so-serious’ vibe going on. It’s suspicious!”
Eurymachus finally glanced up, smirking lazily. “Suspicious? Or are you just jealous she’s spending more time with him than with you?”
Antinous froze mid pace, glaring at Eurymachus. “Jealous? Of Telemachus? Don’t be ridiculous. I just think she’s too naïve to see through people’s motives. She doesn’t need to be wasting her time on some guy who spends all day drawing buildings.”
Eurymachus shrugged, clearly unimpressed. “Look, man, you can’t micromanage her life forever. She’s not a kid anymore, and she’s gonna make her own choices. If Telemachus is the guy she wants to hang out with, what’s the big deal?”
Antinous groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “The big deal is that she doesn’t know what she’s doing. And don’t act like you’d be fine if your sister was hanging out with some random guy.”
Eurymachus chuckled, setting his phone down. “Good thing I don’t have a sister, then. But if I did? I’d probably trust her to figure it out on her own. You’re just being overprotective, man. Let her live a little.”
Antinous shook his head, still unconvinced. “You don’t get it. She’s y/n. She’s too young, too trusting. And Telemachus is probably just pretending to be nice so he can—”
“Can what?” Eurymachus interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “Ask her out? Fall in love? God forbid, right? What’s the worst that could happen, Antinous? She’s not some helpless little kid anymore.” Antinous scowled but didn’t respond. Instead, he resumed his pacing, muttering under his breath about “reckless friendships” and “guys who think they’re smarter than they are.”
Eurymachus, clearly amused by the entire situation, grabbed his phone again and settled back into his bed. “You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack, man. Just let it go. Who knows? Maybe Telemachus isn’t as bad as you think.”
“Unlikely,” Antinous muttered, though his pacing slowed slightly. Still, the thought of his baby sister being anywhere near Telemachus—or any guy—left him bristling with frustration.
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piratefishmama · 2 years ago
Text
Fake it till you make it | Part 11
“Be careful, Eddie” were Wayne’s words as he hugged his nephew goodbye, knowing he wouldn’t see him for a whole week and honestly still being a little worried about it “if you think even for one minute that something’s off, just… just get out of there, alright?”
“I know, I know, I’ll bolt through the woods and hitchhike my way home, I know the way, Wayne, I got this.” He could read a compass, he’d be able to get a map from any gas station and head home, he was resourceful, an adult, he could handle himself.
“Damn right you got this, son. But… be careful in other ways too, alright? Steve’s a charmin boy, but… remember this ain’t real.” Eddie had bitten his bottom lip at that one, brows furrowed in thought, those big brown eyes of his swirling in emotion, he never did hide his feelings well, it’d always be a little real for him. “Protect this” Wayne poked his chest with a gentle prod, right over Eddie’s heart “okay?”
“Mhm, I will…” he’d try to anyway. Steve really was… charming. An his kisses? God his kisses… but also... it really was the closest he’d ever been to what romance ought to be, what a relationship ought to be, he never thought he’d have that.
The world didn’t appear to be moving fast enough for him to truly experience romance as most people did.
He had to remember that he didn’t have that.
“Eddie! C’mon you’re in the back with me!” Steve called from the garage door, behind which the car was rumbling, their bags packed into the back, Steve’s parents already inside, ready to go. The longest Eddie had ever been away from Wayne since arriving in Hawkins, was three days during a weekend trip to Indy with the band to play at a slightly bigger venue than the Hideout as a one off.
A favour for his favourite gay bar when a live act they’d scheduled pulled out last minute. It hadn’t gotten them a lot of exposure, but it’d been a fun and enlightening night for the band.
“Best get on, son, I’ll see you in a week. Call when you can alright? Don’t care if you wake me up or about no damn time zones, just call, I’ll answer, an if I don’t, you know the plant’s number.” Tight lipped, strained smile, Eddie nodded quickly then turned on his heel and graced Steve with a brilliant smile, game on.
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“I don’t wish to alarm anyone, but... did we miss a turning?” Eddie may have been unusually quiet for the first leg of their journey, nerves having hit him like a truck the second they pulled out of Loch Nora, but he was paying attention to his surroundings.
And those surroundings, were all too quickly, Fort Wayne International Airport.
“You don’t honestly expect rich people to drive the whole way to Canada do you?” Steve’s voice was amused and came from so very close to his ear that he actually jumped, quickly turning in his seat, back plastered against his side of the back seat, eyes wide as he took in and processed what Steve said. “Plus, what would you rather do, spend nearly two days in a car with my parents—”
“We’d make wonderful road trip companions, don’t be rude Steven” came his mother’s interruption
Steve ignored it in favour of continuing his point “—orr… around ten hours in one of those with a brief stop off in Chicago.” Steve leaned inward, uncaring of personal space as he pointed to a plane, ascending into the heavens from the runway.
“I don’t—” he didn’t know. He’d never been on a plane before. Trips like that, across country, they were the stuff of road trip legend, but Steve had a point…
Two whole days of a trip stuck in a car. Or just ten hours. Eddie’s eyes skipped to the window again, to the plane now disappearing beyond the overcast cloud cover.
“It’ll be okay, Eds, I’ll sit right next to you the whole time, you’ll be okay.”
“What if we crash? What if it falls out of the sky? What’ll you do?”
“My best to keep you safe.” It was so earnest, coupled with Steve gently taking his hands and giving them a squeeze, eyes so full of raw honesty, of understanding, it hit Eddie directly in all his soft gooey bits. “I’ll hold your hand through the whole ten hours if you want.”
“Even during the stop in Chicago?”
“Hah, yeah baby, even during the stop in Chicago.”
“They’re a lot more openminded in Chicago too!” Lynda spoke up without turning her head, allowing Eddie to not get stuck on baby for too long “might get a few looks from people passing through the airport but nobody will say anything, and if they do, they deal with us.”
“If we had enough time during the stop we’d have taken a trip around the city, let you boys see some of the sights we’ve seen, but alas, our connection gives us an hour at most depending on everything being on time, and that’s just enough time to get us from one gate to the next.” John added as he pulled into the long stay parking lot. “Maybe some other time, some other family trip, eh Eddie?”
Eddie’s wide eyes turned to the front of the car, then back to Steve again, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. Not surprise over the words used, but the feeling those words caused. Family trip. They were including him on future family trips.
Steve’s eyes quickly snapped from him to the front of the car and back again, then a warm smile blossomed on his lips. He lifted his hand and ever so carefully brushed a stray curl back behind Eddie’s ear, and asked so softly as his thumb lowered to brush along his jawline. “Right, Eddie?”
“Y-yeah… yeah I’d… I’d love that.” He turned his head fully toward the drivers seat, he’d never been too good at hiding his emotions, so maybe he was just a little choked up when he accepted the offer “I’d really love that.”
“Great!” The car came to a stop in one of the many parking bays, ignition off, driver side door opened “It’s settled then.” Settled. Eddie would privately mourn the knowledge that it’d never come to fruition, but… on the surface he could pretend he was excited for a future trip for the sake of the ruse. “Now boys if you could get the bigger bags out the trunk that’d be a big help! This back of mine isn’t as sturdy as it used to be.”
“You’re forty-six and go jogging almost every morning, don’t be stupid John.” Lynda whapped her husband with her handbag in gentle, semi-amused admonishment before getting out of the car.
Followed by her husband who, in a hushed tone replied with “don’t tell them that, Lynda, save us the work.” Leaving the two boys to breathe soft laughs between themselves before they too joined the older couple out in the parking lot.
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“Steve...” Eddie hissed as they neared check-in.
“What?”
“I have weed” said through his teeth.
“What?” Steve paused.
“I have weed… I have weed in my suitcase.”
“You have what?!” Steve rounded on him, sentence ended with a pointed hiss
“I didn’t know we’d be flying to Canada, Steve, maybe you should tell people when you’re planning on launching them into the troposphere in a death tube!”
“Why would you bring weed on a holiday with my parents, Eddie?!”
“SHHHH, be quiet. I thought I might need it to chill out if I was freaking out at some point during the week like right now, I could really do with it right now.”
“Oh my god.”
“Steven? Is something wrong?” Lynda’s voice had them both snapping to attention, eyes wide, caught in the act. Luckily she had no idea what that ‘act’ was.
“Nope! No, uh, Eddie’s just gotta… use the bathroom real quick.”
“Well, there’s bathrooms in the business class lounge he can—"
“No! It’s uhm, it’s urgent, can’t wait, he’s uh…”
“Nerves, it’s uh, it’s nerves, I think imma hurl” she looked between them with a small frown on her face, assessing them both, it seemed like whatever she found wasn’t worth arguing about though, because she waved them off with a quick flick of her wrist.
“Alright fine, hurry up. Steven you know where the closest ones are go on now quickly before we’re late for check in, we’ll double check everything here.” John was already pausing to check through all their documents like a regular airport dad, it was the third time he’d done it since entering the airport.
“Alright let’s go, Eds, lets deal with your little problem.” At least he was soft-handed when he manhandled Eddie to the nearest bathroom, patchy suitcase with a squeaky wheel wobbling away behind them. Once inside, he checked each stall individually, before quickly turning on a wide eyed Eddie. “Where is it?” Eddie pointed down at the suitcase, and Steve snapped to action, lifting, and placing Eddie’s suitcase down on the slightly damp row of sinks. “Did you pack any liquid soaps?”
“Uhhh…” Eddie was too busy staring at the flex of Steve’s arms as he just. Lifted that whole very packed suitcase in one hoist. Fuck.
“Any shampoo? Conditioner?”
“I—I feel like my answer is going to make you mad so I’m just not going to answer.” Which on its own, was a pretty damning answer, and Steve’s expression told him as such “I don’t have a twelve step hair care routine like you do, Steve! I just… I have drug store shampoo and conditioner and that’s really only when it’s on a two for one sale! Usually I just—"
“If you say you water it down to make it last longer I’m going to throw the first thing I find in this suitcase at you.”
“Shutting up. I just thought I’d buy it there if I needed it, or just borrow yours, I know you brought some, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, I figured that… if I borrowed yours it’d make it seem like I just… wanted… to smell like you?”
“You just made that up.” Eddie just smiled, all teeth and dimples, scrunching his shoulders inwards in an unfairly cute display of mischief. “You’re a menace, Munson. Get your stuff out of there for me. Don’t ever put weed in checked luggage.”
“But—”
“TSA does random checks on checked luggage all the time, an while they’re not usually looking for weed, it’ll get launched and you might get fined. Whereas you can hide weed in just about anything in a carry on, just shows up as vague blurred shit on the x-ray scanners. Just be cool when you shove it through.” Steve was rummaging in the front of his own bag now, “be cool, and act natural.”
“You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“Mn once or twice, Tommy was a dick, but his cousin worked for the TSA for a few years, gave us all kinds’a neat tricks to get things through the airport.” Tommy’s cousin had gotten fired and a year inside for attempting to smuggle narcotics out of the confiscated items lock up, but that was neither here nor there. “Gimmie what you have.” Hand outstretched, Steve waited until Eddie placed the single baggie containing three roll ups and a few loose buds “Christ Eddie.”
“I knew I’d be nervous! Stop being mean to me!” Steve rolled his eyes before taking the three roll ups out of the baggie
“Your smokes, give em.” Plenty of room in the pack to slot the three roll ups, and as for the buds, Steve emptied out his travel sized bottle of hand lotion into the sink and stuffed the whole plastic bag into the little bottle, then screwed the lid on tight. Nobody would look twice at a rich kids hand lotion. “Now wet the ends of your hair.”
“What?”
“Your hair butthead! Wet it, we told my mother you’d be in here hurling your guts up, so… you got some in your hair, it’s a good extra to add to the ruse, now do it.”
“So my own boyfriend wouldn’t even hold my hair back if I threw up? Where’s the romance, where’s the commitment, where’s the care and—”
“Dude you have a lot of hair, I doubt I could get it all in my hand at once.” Although now that thought was in his head… could he? Could he get a good fistful and hold it there? Not important. “I’d drop bits.” A flimsy argument, he wouldn’t drop anything.
“Uh-huh, sure you would, big boy.” Eddie quickly dampened the tips of his hair, and ran a wet hand through his bangs quickly in a bid to fake flop sweat, theatrics over and done with. “Zipper-up, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”
Part 13
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darkdemeter · 9 months ago
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Hey hey, could i please have a request?
So imagine that the reader is traveling with death to restore the humanity and they get along so well and are kind of flirty and the reader is falling for him. One day they meet Vulgrim and she out of curiosity falls into his serpent hole and is transported to the past to meet the young and unruly death, who we know was a menace when younger. And then they have their interactions the reader goes back to the current version of death. How do you think that would go?
Have a lovely day and thank you for your work!
EVEN DEATH WAS ONCE YOUNG
◤✘DARKSIDERS COLUMN | Death x Female Reader
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NOTES: ↳ OH. MY. GOSH. ANON! Writing this was the bomb!! Interesting concept, a wonderful opportunity to explore pre-horseman "younger" Death. I tried to keep a balance between his more mature personality while also having some fun with giving him a bit of spunk -- I couldn't stop giggling! WARNINGS! ↳ Just death being a bit of a young menace, but he kinda cute doing it sooo.... but like there's also fluff/hurt stuff?
✎5.4k ────────────────
When people used to say: “I wish I could meet the younger version of you.” They don’t actually know what they’re asking for. Because who in their right mind would want to meet Death in the prime of his bloodlust? 
The thought struck a fancy with you after your encounter with the demoness, Lilith. Her presence exotic and threatening without explicitly doing anything remotely violent. It was the sensual octave that carried her words like a lullaby you had found forbidding to hear, yet you fall prey to the temptation to hear just one more word.
That didn’t stop you from hiding behind Death, his back rigid to the point the knocks of his spine straightened slightly when her hand lingered a little too close to brush a stray framing of hair out from your face. 
But it was what she recounted that piqued your curiosity. Her children. Enriching lore of a species most loathed from long ago, a bloody crusade where they met their end by Death’s hands. From her retelling and the mystical pulse of life that beats in the embedded shards in his chest, even speaking of them appeared to pain him both physically and mentally. A burden you could never carry for him nor tell him to abandon. 
For a human, whose patience often wanes at the smallest of inconvenience, you show a lot of compassion and understanding for the weight on his shoulders. And never would you know exactly how thankful Death has become for your company. At times almost yearning for it whenever you are but a few feet away, or the thought crosses his mind to take you back to the Tri-Forge and leave you in the Maker’s care. Your fragility means more to him now than it has before, sometimes just looking at you eases just a fraction of that guilt he pushes deeper down. 
You’d both formed far too much of a bond so unnatural to the opinion of others, yet it fell into some assortment of right for you. 
You can’t possibly imagine being left behind, not now. Not after how far you have come all this way together. 
But yes, that saying. Did people ever realise what it was they were saying? 
“Meeting the mother-in-law already, baby albums and all.” Your voice crackles on the hot, muggy wind that travels through this slice of inferno, sky a spiral of darkness and hellfire smog. “Dare I say it, I wish I could meet the younger—”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” he warns with a low and thorough rasp that rattled in his chest. 
You cannot help but spare him a teasing wrinkle of your nose and puckering your tongue out between your teeth, body twisting from side to side innocently.
You can’t help but chuckle with a slight bounce in your step. “Sounds like you were quite the bad boy.”
You merely roll your eyes as he gruffly replies with a huff, “Your perception cannot possibly begin to fathom the prime of my youth… or handle it.”
Despite his attempt of coming off cool and collected, you could hear the bitter coil of something else underline his words. 
Oh, how mystical and dark and brooding he always was and portrayed himself to be. You’re sure that there is something a little less grim beneath that rough exterior. Hell — and that saying excludes your current locale — you have witnessed it before in the engagements of fun conversation that go back and forth to the point that a victor who gets the last say is indeterminable sometimes. So he’s not completely a lost cause of being impenetrable, he’s entertained you before with quite a few situations that you classified as flirting. Who knew that Death himself could make you blush bright and red?
He was close to claiming that title of victory this time, until you pad along to stop right in the middle of his tracks, his chest barely able to stop from bumping into you and causing your balance off kilter for a moment. 
“Come on, Death, at this point of travelling together, I can handle anything.”
He looks past your nonchalant grin and over your shoulder, seeming to cock a brow beneath the greying bone of his mask.
“Really now?” he hums, “Duck.”
“Wh—” you dare not finish to question him as you immediately take to assuming position, ducking low to the ground in preparation of an oncoming ambush unseen by you.
But it never comes. You hear a gravelly rumble of a chuckle emit from the reaper before you, his shoulders jostling a little with the motion. Your lips purse together and you scowl at him with everything you can muster to no avail of affecting him.
“Oh, ha ha. Very funny,” you snark back, walking alongside him as he continues to set your traversing pace. 
Noticing that he was heading back the way you came, you jutt a thumb to point behind you “Aren’t we meant to be going that way?” 
“Your sense of direction has improved astonishingly, girl,” Death snickers dryly, the slur of flirty endearment almost lost in his words. He continues, “We’re paying a visit to Vulgrim.” 
Ugh, even saying that name brings a ghoulish, slimy chill to climb your spine uncomfortably. 
“Horseman,” The greenish bulbs of his eyes shrink behind a wrinkling brow of pale, craggily skin. Then his eyes see you and the form in which they almost bulge from their sockets sickens you. “And your little human companion! Your scent is just as… lovely as ever, my dear.” 
The gaping maw of his lipless mouth twists into a creeping grin so unnerving it causes knots of fear to tie in your gut. 
“Uh, no,” you say with an adamant shake of your head. No way in this life or the next would you trade your soul to Vulgrim of all fiends. Death had warned you to just keep your soul to yourself in general if offered to sell it for a little something in return. 
“Your dealings are with me, Vulgrim.” Death is clear and quick to establish your presence before the serpent hole. The demon trader, sighing grimly with a black, slimy tongue ringing over his cracked and deformed fangs, addresses Death. 
“Very well. Let us see what I have to offer… and what you can afford.”
Vulgrim usually dances about his serpent hole but never ventured too far if he can help it, usually to usher you away from it with a warning, “If you know what is best for your longevity, stay away from there.” 
And most of the time, Death kept a watchful eye on you to keep you from falling face first into the next trap of trouble. However, this time around, the pool of green mist is left surprisingly unguarded. With a curious tilt of your head and scrunch of your nose, your boots pad on over as you walk towards it. 
You can’t make out a bottom through the wafting cloud of mist that rises from the hole. Still you arch your body to peer over the edge and down into it as though you’d find something soon enough if you just inch that little bit—
“Human!” Death bellows as he rushes to you, only just seeing your form stumble and fall forward. A yelp of surprise turns into a blood-curdling scream as you sink into the smoggy abyss. The green haze around you fades into a darker shade until all around you is black nothingness. Your voice throws over into a thousand echoes that follow you. You’re still falling. At least it feels that way and for a moment you think you’ve closed your eyes; it’s hard to tell with the inky black around you.
A bright tone paints onto the surface of your closed eyes and you fall onto ground, dusty and hard, small rocks jab and scrape as you land. The brunt of the fall knocks the wind from you and you take a moment to recover your bearings, soon to rise to your feet and brush off the smears of dirt on your clothes.
“Okay. Duly noted: do not go anywhere near serpent holes,” you affirm strongly with newfound belief, only to be met by silence.
No scolding words that apprehend your actions. Not the familiar grasp of a cold, large hand that strangely warms you and causes your heart rate to pick up a little faster. No, you turn and shift on your heel to scan all directions about you. 
“Uhm… Death? Vulgrim?” You’ve spun yourself into a circle a million times over by now. “Anyone? Hello?”
For certain this is not the same slice of hell you had accompanied Death to and no serpent hole was in sight. Instead, you're in some cavernous valley of dust land and patches of grass and foliage, in the distance stands the mounds of high reaching cliff sides. 
Where exactly are you? 
As a human evidently from earth, you had never once had the ability to traverse any realm unfamiliar. In fact, you never knew of the possible existence of them. And after meeting Death, you were strictly told to stay close. Realms harboured dangers of their own, a breed of some civilisation that undoubtedly hurt you if you ran off by yourself. 
And now you’re beginning to feel that seeping dread of despair dawn within you. That sulking hopelessness that you have cast yourself to some unknown corner of the cosmos, and Death has no idea where you dropped off to. 
“Death?” You ask aloud again. Were you lost forever? 
You begin to head off in a direction, putting the sun to your left as you look around for ideally any serpent holes that can hopefully drop you back where you belong. With Death. Without him here, you feel like a newborn fawn stumbling on its legs. He always made you feel safe, always ensured he was between you and whatever threat that tried to get you, even if he got hurt because of it. 
You continue to call out to the wind that sweeps over you, the sun beating down hard. You brush aside a flurry of hair from your face, your pace slowing exponentially as you practically stumble through this unknown territory.
That’s when that sixth sense kicks in. You’re not sure if you had been ignoring the signs before or if the feeling just came, but all the same you feel that you’re being watched.
You’ve barely dived out of the way before something large crashes behind you, the scraping of claws digging into the crusty soil and the shifting balance of weight kicks up a cloud of dust behind the force of the leaping attack. Turning to face whatever it was, you grimace at the sight of a mangy looking hound that dwarfs you. Its skin is a burnt hue of reddish pink like it suffered constant exposure to the sun, what matted fur that lined its spine and cuffed around its ribs was a dark, sandy brown with dark, faded stripes. Its ears twitch as a high pitched wheeze passes through its open jaw that pries open like a snake. Rows of black teeth are coated in an oily surface of dripping saliva. 
You see another grapple down the cliff face to join the first, this one notably smaller, but not by much. Then another of the same size joins the second, each one stalking closer to corner you in. 
A piercing sharpness fills your chest and your hand grasps at the handle of your dagger. A simple form of defence, highly unlikely to fend off the predators easily, but better than nothing. 
Right about now, that favourable reaper of yours would be excellent company. There were so many things you wished you had said, times you procrastinated moving that bit closer to his side by the evening campfire meant for your safety and sanity. You fear that this is your end. For your quest in restoring humanity, one more human will be lost today, and Death will have to bear that burden. It saddens you in a way. That the guilt would eat away at him. 
One of the smaller hounds takes no more than a few steps forward, just about ready to pounce at you before a humming force sings through the air and with a meaty crunch of bone and mushed brain, an all familiar scythe fatally sheathed in its skull. 
You fall back on your arse, a relieved grin digs deep into your cheeks as you think Death has somehow found you. 
You look around, eager to see him, barely catching something fast cut through the corner of your vision. The next thing you know, the head of the second smaller hound rolls over, its tongue hanging loosely between its jaws, the decapitated appendage just resting at the heel of your boots. The sight makes you grumble in dull disgust.
However, you are brought into the shadow of the larger creature that now towers above you, caught with a gulp in your throat. By your lucky stars, its attention diverts from you and to your rescuer and dives forward. 
You only just turn your head when a pained shriek howls through the air and a severed limb flies some distance away. Followed by another and then a third limb, leaving the defeated creature to begin crawling away with a distorted whine. 
His silhouette bathed in the scorching sun is a sight of relief, though his attire had changed. Not the draping tabard of violet tied about his waist or the deep purple scarf hung over his shoulders. Mostly an assortment of bandages wrapped and woven around his arms, clad in iron fittings. He steps after the beast, following along the weeping trail of blood smeared into the dirt, scythes coming together as the long staff of Harvester and placed to his back. 
Your face contorts in response to the sheer brutality before you, visage twitching in your frazzled comprehension. Yes, Death had a very violent tendency to be dangerously savage, but he was well versed in being precise, but never at this level. Seeing him utilise naught but his inhuman strength at his disposal and his hands, he rips the hound’s upper jaw clean off until sheets of sinew and muscle were reduced to hair-thin threads. 
He drops the unhinged part to his feet with a wet, clumpy thump. Even you have to internally argue that Death may have lost himself a little there. When his head turns over his shoulder, the flicker of an amber glow catching you in his sights, you cannot help the reaction to freeze as you roll onto your belly. 
Something unfamiliar resides in his gaze like he’s seeing you for the first time. But rather than the confusion of an older entity seeing one of the many souls still alive, there is a frenzy of anger – adrenaline running a high river through him, driving him bloodmad. 
His upper body then begins to turn only to halt when you utter his name, form rigid in his study of you. Again, you try, “Death? Hey, it’s me.”
Immediately you’re met by the unsheathed blade of Harvester aimed against you and you skitter back with a hiss as the massive blade knicks your cheek. 
“Hey! Careful with that— what’s gotten into you?”
“Who are you?” 
Your face scrunches, a morphed complaint of your confusion. He only attempts to raise his scythe to your neck with a threat to render you headless at his whim. 
“I-it’s me, hello!” you laugh with bitter nervousness, “you know me. Y/N, the human you’ve been travelling with.”
He gives no form of recollection. Not that he’s easy to read with that mask of his, hiding all but the expression in his eyes. Or the way he narrows them upon hearing one word: Human. Call it intuition, a gut feeling, a divine touch; you feel that that word held some powerful trigger to the Horseman before you. And none that you had seen in him before. Almost a zeal of intense excitement flourishes in the furnace heart of his eyes. 
“A human?” Harvester balances in his grasp to lean against his shoulder, a curious tilt of his head somehow influences you to mimic the action with an affirmative hum.
“Uh-huh. We were on our way to restore humanity. We went extinct, remember?” 
“Really now?” 
When he begins to stalk closer and inching the gap between you shorter, you find yourself taking a few steps back. Something was… off. Death isn’t like his usual self. The concept of humans didn’t really phase him in such a way before. He just thought of humanity and their restoration as a mere key to gaining his brother’s freedom. Somehow integral to the balance but never once serving importance to him. But now, before your very eyes, he appears with a dark excitement as he looks you over. Like your very existence piques him. 
Was he flirting with his leash ten yards behind him? 
Now that’s very unlike your old reaper—
There’s a thought: he is not… that old. Sure, old by some standard in the scheme of time, but compared to when you were travelling together, you come to realise how noticeably younger he is. And still, he advances towards you until his shadow overthrows you, drowning you in it. 
Even if you wanted to chalk up your thoughts to some conspiracy, you also notice that there is a sore lack of soul-cursed shards embedded into the taut muscle of his chest. 
Alright. Now you’re beginning to put the pieces of this puzzle together. You have somehow landed in the great, great past.
It’s like your wish became a manifested reality. 
Bathed in the sunless dark of his shadow, your feet intend to shuffle back, only for his arm that handles his massive scythe extends forth, the pole of it acting as some guard that keeps you from moving any further away. 
You mumble to yourself then, resigning in your compliance to remain where you stand. He may not be trying to directly hurt you now, but if given the motivation, you could yet stand corrected. 
He continues to stare at you, long and hard pressing, you feel like an ant under the heated blink of a glass scope that is threatened to burn. A matter of curiosity is all you can surmise it to the way his neck extends forward, bending down until the bone form of his masked nose hovers over you, near deathly silent but still largely inhaling your scent.
The act is enough for that heated flush to deep into your skin. 
“Hey—hey, easy there, big guy,” you warn, voice wavering from the way he merely tilts his head before leaning in again. “No, I said n-no! Stop that—no, that tickles!” 
Upon you practically beating him away with the ferocity of your mitten gloves, he then circles you like a predatory beast. 
“How is this possible? Humanity’s creation has not yet come,” he inquisitively says. 
You give a shrug, choosing to be a little more careful of your words. Would anything you do or say alter time itself and affect your supposed present? 
Just with you being here would be enough to do just that if Death’s claim that humans weren’t born yet is true. 
“Uh, well… it’s not so simple to explain. You see, I er—”
Shit this was getting more and more difficult to explain with the growing anxiety dangerously lurking over you like a foreboding cloud. 
“I’m not from here.”
You can almost see his brow curve upward under the mask. “Evidently,” he drawls deeply in response. 
With a roll of your eyes you try again. 
“All I know is that I somehow fell through some serpent hole and got transported back in time. Now, I gotta find a way back.” 
“You mean to leave?” 
Already turning your back on him – unaware of such a grave mistake – you only nod in response, your eyes last to leave him. Who knows how much longer you will have to endure here before Death finds and rescues you from his younger self. 
But that just isn’t in your stack of cards. Again you’re almost blown to the four winds and land on the cushion of your arse, grumbling in pain as you stare up at him, standing right in the way of your path.
Your lips purse tightly together, you hiss, “Death!” 
He crouches in front of you, ignoring the way you attempt to pry him and push him away as he moves a hand forward. He holds your wrist at bay before you can land a firm push to his mask to shove him away, his amber eyes dance with a certain level of intrigue and his head tilting to the side leaves his raven hair to saddle alongside the motion. 
He peels the grubby article off your hand to reveal the bareness of your skin and you find yourself holding your own breath. 
His own hand measures yours, palm to palm and you feel the roughened contour of his skin. His body radiates with an off-centred heat, not entirely cold as he is in the present with you but the morph of warmth isn’t so smothering unlike some infernal realm you know. You almost see the softness that crosses his features beneath the boney helm of his mask, like the cracks of emotion are being revealed without your exact know-how. 
But you’ve known Death for some time now. You’ve been in his company. If this is some revelation of a breakthrough, then you see it before your very eyes. 
Each finger lines to one another. A curtain of silence falls over the both of you until your eyes meet. A smile creeps over your lips then. 
“Must you truly go?” he’s sudden to ask beneath the gravel baritone of his chords. With a sigh, you only nod your head. 
His eyes harden at this, something distraught lines his concealed face only to be betrayed by the levelled glow of his eyes, but nevertheless he stands, no longer keeping you from running off. As you make your way to stand on your own two feet, brushing off the particles of dirt off your clothes, you notice Death’s prolonged stare. 
“What is it?” 
He only shakes his head, a gruff response of, “Nothing.” 
Though his reply is suspiciously vague, you both venture off into the great unknown, however much you believe that Death is more accustomed to the land than you. 
Hours pass as the sun begins to ride your backs and no sight of any serpent holes, leaving you with a feeling of exhausted anguish. As the night creeps in as a shadowy blanket over the sky and turns the humid air colder, you pull your shawl over your body as a chill licks your spine. 
Death — no not your Death, the younger one — takes notice, eying you from the side of his vision. 
“What’s wrong?” 
You jerk your head in his direction with eyes wide in your perked alertness. “Hm? Oh, I’m just cold is all. Usually I’d have a fire set up by now to rest…”
Would it be wise to add that it was him — older him — beside you and ensuring you settle into your makeshift camp? Unsure, you keep that to yourself. 
When he places an overly large hand to your shoulder, you stumble on your heel and pause, watching Death’s head scan the horizon and the upper cliff faces until he stops. You turn your head and notice just in the crevice of shadow and fading sunlight the blackened mouth of a cave. 
Your eyes light up at the thought of rest despite your circumstances and you already begin your trek towards the rocky climb, though you now see the rather steep slope it resides to reach the haven. With a grumble, your determination steers you to climb anyways, your feet stumbling and causing small pebbles to scatter down the face. 
Hands then grab hold of you and before you’re able to fight or protest, Death scuttles up in a matter of seconds with you hanging on for dear life. After he sets you down, you huff out, “Thanks.” 
He gives a gruff sound in response with a curt nod, then turns to scour the new site of camp. It wasn’t so much as a cave as you thought, moreso of a sheltered crop in the rocks, providing enough area to protect you from the elements but also invites the cool winds to breeze on past. 
Making a fire was a challenge than it usually was, making due with what you had on hand, and Death sets Harvester to his side, leaning it against the wall. He doesn’t think you pose that much of a threat to warrant its persistent sheath. 
He however finds some interest in how you kindle the birth of flames, crafting it from almost nothing. 
Looking up at him from your position, you laugh softly to yourself. “Yeah, I know. Humans are so weak and strange. But it’s what we do. How we were made, I guess.”
“I didn’t say anything like that,” Death says with a clearly risen brow. His answer does bring you surprise. After all, Death had many times sighed and chuffed about how humans did the most silly of things – things that were key to your survival, keeping that in mind. 
“Well… you will. Someday.”
“How is it that you know me?” he asks, crouching on the fire’s opposite side, facing you. As much as you think it unwise to share anymore knowledge, you cannot deny that you feel almost safe around him, no matter the fact that he’s younger. In the prime of his bloodlust. 
But he hasn’t killed me yet. Tried to, but hasn’t. 
“It’s going to sound strange but… I’m from the future. And in that future, we are travelling together.”
“Because you said something of Humanity’s demise.” 
He’s Death alright. A keen observant to detail. You nod in reply before continuing, “and as I said, I fell through some sort of timeline and landed here in the past. The way, way past. So far that humans aren’t even created yet, as you’ve said.”
To this, he nods in turn and it brings you to smile. You feel as though he silently applauds your own recollection for detail. 
“Death, how old are you?” 
Yes, it is indeed perhaps a very stupid decision to ask his age, but the nature of curiosity humans are notoriously known for gets the better of you. His eyes flicker with momentary stutter, taken aback by such a question, but one he doesn’t ultimately deny in answering. 
“Today is my day of creation… I’m a thousand-and-one—”
Your eyes go wide and you shoot up to your feet with a cheer. “What? Happy Birthday!” 
Your voice is a loud noise to the shell of his hearing and it spurns him to the defence, beckoning Harvester to fly to his hand within an instant. You’re quickly covering your mouth, uttering your apologies at spooking him. 
Settling back down, this time to his side, you flash him a shy, toothy grin. “But that’s exciting!”
“What is a ‘birthday’?”
You gasp at the shocking revelation. “It’s a celebration. When humans are born on a certain day, it’s a tradition to celebrate it every year.”
Then it pops into your mind, again sending the nephilim beside you to flinch at your motion, you stir up a fuss of plucking a twig from the flames before it’s entirely devoured. Holding it, single flame slow to eat away the kindle, you beam as you stare at Death with large, doe-like eyes. 
“Make a wish!”
“A what?” He scoffs, only to see you dramatically roll your eyes until they’re nearly rolling out of their sockets. “A wish. You make a wish, something you really want, and then blow out the flame. Another tradition on your birthday.”
His eyes narrow to thin points, sceptical that perhaps you were using something to your advantage. When he sees that you don’t have any ill intent to deceive him, he shuffles in his spot slightly to face you, body arching ever so over yours; his height even at this level towers over you. 
You whisper softly, “Like this.” 
Making the motion of blowing out the makeshift candle with your mouth, the campfire casting an orange hue to your skin paints you in a fine detail that the nephilim cannot help but study closely until a there’s a skip in his chest.
His hand raises to his mask but stops and you see the hesitance to continue any further. Understanding that it very well could be because of your presence, you tilt your chin down and squeeze your eyes shut. 
A gust beats across your face, skirting the wisps of hair away and then just as promptly as he’d lifted his mask, he’d lowered it just in time for you to peel your eyes open. Again, you smile. 
He’s the first to crack through the veil of tension between you both, standing on his feet. 
“Get some rest, girl.”
The next day, you finally see in the distance the familiar halo of green and sick looking mists, but it is your ticket home nonetheless. You skip ahead and towards it, laughing at the thought of reuniting with Death and telling him of your adventure.
But then you stop. Not another skip in your step. You turn around to see Death, body rigid but his chin is aimed down and his eyes don’t exactly meet yours. Approaching him cautiously, you halt a few feet before him, hands pinned behind you. 
“I guess this is goodbye…”
You don’t very much like the eternal sound to your farewell. Like you’re losing him forever. 
He drawls out, low and lessened of any sort of emotion, but you swear you note a hint of sadness in his tone. “My wish didn’t come true.”
“What was your wish?”
His eyes rise to meet yours and you feel your heart splinter. Why did it feel so wrong to want to go back to Death in the future? Why did everything that wasn’t with him feel so, so wrong?
“I wish that you would stay here.”
“I can’t stay. I’m not from this time.” Your words do little to ease that which internally troubles him. Your hands coax his jaw to lift upwards until he stands, prouder and much taller over you that you have to balance on the toes of your feet. Then, you sweep your arms around him. His body is stiff to meet your hug but you care little in that regard. He’s always been one less evident of his affections, a tendency you’re completely fine with. 
“But I promise that we will meet again in the future. After all, that’s who I’m going back to through the serpent hole. To you.”
There it is, that flicker in his eyes that reveals in them a shiny glow of fire that you feel warms your heart in many ways. Pressing a chaste kiss to the toughened chin of his mask, you offer one last smile and bid your farewells with a wave, promising that you will see each other again before you jump into the serpent hole, disappearing into the green mists. 
You yelp as the void sends you crashing yet again and you fear that you have stumbled into yet another realm in another time. But for the first time, you find yourself relieved to hear Vulgrim’s slimy voice announce your arrival. 
“Ah! And there she is, the curious little mouse who doesn’t keep away from serpent holes,” he snides with a raspy coil like a snake getting ready to strike. 
“Vulgrim,” you poke your tongue out, brushing your hair from your face and you look to see Death charging his way to you. 
“There you are,” he says almost wistfully, hands pressed to your shoulders. A tender action even with the glare clear in his gaze. “What were you thinking? What happened to you?”
You know that beneath the roughness of his callous tone, he means well. He was worried and the look upon his younger self’s face as you left, you find yourself pulling yourself into him and embracing him. 
“I promised you that we’d meet again.”
His arms weave themselves around your waist, holding you to bear you closer in his embrace. “Yes, you did.”
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beseeingyouinmydreams · 4 months ago
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I’m struggling really hard with the mess surrounding Liam and everyone screaming he’s to blame he took the drugs. People don’t just pickup drugs one day and decide to become an addict. Shit pushes them over the edge and drugs become a coping mechanism to drown out the emptiness and pain. The shit that happened to him in the past and the people the egged it on and abused him and used him. It adds up. Yes he took drugs on his own but he was so far gone a long time ago and drugs were an escape from a life he wasn’t happy in. I’m so sick of humans screaming that persons to blame when mental illness and drugs take a life. People do not often just decide drugs are fun and start taking them for fun. Mental illness is often created due to past trauma and experiences and He suffered tremendously in a very large open way. He was bullied at a young age and then torn down constantly while being on a global stage/platform. The pressures he was under from external sources; managers, labels, teams, parents, cyber bullies and fandoms and pseudo managers at the end were more than most people will ever know. And anyone that knew anything about him knew how much pressure he put on himself. When your world starts falling apart left and right and those pressures increase and nothing outside of you brings you fulfillment or peace … the fact that he lived as long as he did is honestly a testament to his strength. His demise was honestly a time bomb waiting for years. He had his parents who cared I’m sure but every single person in his life was always after him for whatever he could give and he being the people pleaser he was never could say no, having yes men give into your every whim when you’re struggling so much is tragic. This world has so many fuckn issues. The way we treat each other in general, the way we treat ourselves, the way people blame and tear down people with mental illness and addiction issues is sickening. You hand them vices then tear them down for using them. You build celebs to unreachable highs then tear them down and give them no allowances for being human. I will go to my grave disgusted by the people around him who took his life. The people in his life who used and failed him are absolutely to blame as well. Period.
Losing Liam has deeply affected how I view humanity. I’m truly struggling finding a bright spot in the world we live in a place of hope. ( esp now with trump running the country into the ground and all my work I’ve killed my self for the last two years seeming more and more like a waste). I don’t know how humans change for the better at this point, how this world changes for the better when everything I see lately seems so damn bleak and humans with no compassion or care for others.
I don’t know who I’m ranting to no one out there is gunna read this and care. It won’t change anything but I needed a place to rant so 🤷🏻‍♀️😒🤦🏻‍♀️
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m--rtyr · 8 months ago
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Zenix’s little tangent in Episode 35… doesn’t entirely make sense. Or at least I don’t like parts of it and so I’m gonna bitch.
Tw I speak a little bit about abuse and cults at the end.
Zenix: “I’m sure garroth told you… didn’t he? How he found me? He must have… you were always his favorite. Isn’t it funny how he found me around the same time the old Lord was murdered?”
That’s just the beginning of it, of course.
But… Zenix saying this doesn’t really… fit.
SKs kill people in order to gain immortality (typically guards who kill their lords, but it’s established in episode 31, Criminal Brains, that it’s not only guards and not only lords). This is usually someone they knew in their human life, that’s just how it’s always been with SKs, that’s the whole… tragic romance of them. Whoever they dedicated their mortal life to will be the sacrifice to their immortal life.
Whether Zenix is saying he showed up in Phoenix drop shortly before or after he killed the lord is nothing to me, because either way, it’s clear they don’t have that bond. Even Azura states that Zenix swore himself to GARROTH. And the later established lore that sks have permanently red eyes after killing their person doesn’t even apply to Zenix in this case, because he had brown eyes the entire time we knew him, up until they clearly decided that he was the one who murdered the old lord and scrapped Vylad’s involvement.
Because up until this point… all evidence pointed to Vylad. From flashbacks of him standing outside of the old lord’s house with a flint and steel to Sasha basically outright saying it, everything has pointed at Vylad. And I’m not saying twists are a negative, red herrings are fun, but nothing good ever comes when you mix jesson and red herrings… clearly. So this was just… not a good twist. I’ve been keeping track of a lot of stuff and there just wasn’t enough for me to justify it as something pre-planned. But if someone else has another opinion I’m happy to hear.
This is something they do a lot with Zenix. Even with the original reveal that he was a bad guy, they retconned Brendan’s statement of events to make him look worse. They turned Zenix using him like a human body shield into Zenix going out of his way to hurt Brendan, though it didn’t need to be done. It just made him seem unnecessarily cruel.
And now they’ve retconned who killed the old lord to make Zenix look worse again. And I think this is because Jesson cannot cope with moral ambiguity.
Vylad and Zenix are the two most morally ambiguous characters up to this point. Zenix has an evil lean, no doubt, but a lot of his actions lack any known motivation, especially his kind actions, or moments when he does things that are objectively good but… we don’t know why, in order for us to actually understand his moral compass. Sure he is evil-aligned, but he is clearly not fully evil. He has shades of grey… and so does Vylad. Vylad clearly has a good lean, but we don’t know enough about him, and we know he is evil-aligned (he is shown to be peers with Gene and Sasha in earlier episodes) so it’s very… vague. Hazy. Morals? Questionable.
But then Jesson went— HOLD UP! Make Zenix explicitly bad by stating that he was the one to kill the old lord because he wanted immortality… and make Vylad explicitly good by stating that he was the one who hindered Zenix from killing more people.
It wss more interesting when Zenix was just some guy who did bad stuff and had an unknown backstory, and some people rooting for the good in him.
And when Vylad was spooky as fuck.
But that’s too much nuance, give a clear morality to the gay men.
Dont make SKs interesting by giving Zenix red eyes for attempting to kill the man he dedicated his life to! No! Don’t expand the lore by making it obvious that the reason that SKs have to kill their loved ones is to mirror cult/abuse tactics that distance the victims from any real support system they could have to escape! Dont give Zenix red eyes even though he failed at killing Garroth because the bond between them is irreparably damaged despite Garroth’s denial of it! Don’t do that! That’s too much nuance!
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What are your honest thoughts on all Descendants boys? From both books and movies?
Oehh that’s a good question! I’ll base most of this off of the movies because I remember them more clearly. Sorry this is so late, I needed some time to sort out my thoughts. Let’s see:
Ben: cutie, golden retriever energy, needs to grow a bit more of a spine but as a recovering doormat I vibe with him.
He’s got a good heart, and he’s definitely going places, but I have no idea who decided a 16-year-old should be king. Hilariously, he’s a better king than his dad because he cares about all of his people, not just the “heroes”. But still, he’s 16, let him have his dumbass teenage years. He’s still in his phase of wanting to please everyone and that isn’t gonna lead to the best decision making. You’re king, Ben, you can overrule your girlfriend’s selfish idiotic plan of closing the barrier. Just tell her “the barrier was opened for you to come through too. If those kids aren’t worth the risk, does that mean you aren’t either? Should we throw you back?!” And she’s change her tune real fast. You gotta give some tough love sometimes.
Jay: cool, I wanna know his gym routine, pretty funny but rash, needs Carlos to temper his brand of crazy (love their bromance).
I love the narrative parallels to the movie Aladdin. Jafar thought himself so far above a street rat and now he’s raised his son to be one so he can continue being a con-man. In the movies, Jay is actually a very accurate representation of your upbringing shaping you into who you are. All Jay knows is stealing, he’s never been taught to pay if he doesn’t have to, so to him stealing’s perfectly fine. It’s normal. It’s a lot more subtle than the whole “who doesn’t like being evil” bit, but the core idea is the same: when all you’ve ever known is one perspective, that’s gonna feel like the objective truth because you’ve never had a chance to try a different one.
Carlos De Vil: Best (movie) Boy, my baby, I love him. What a little nerd (affectionate).
He’s a big part of why I willfully ignore the absolute stupidity that is the third movie’s ending. I’m sorry Mal, wtf is wrong with you??? You set your supposed friend’s abuser free for nothing but some empty platitudes and dare suggest you’ve become an empathetic person?!?! In the books, we get a lot more insight into just how horrible of a mother Cruella is, but even in the movies we see he’s had it bad because of how jumpy and nervous he is. Disney is still Disney so we don’t get much of the healing process, but we see how he calms down and adjusts to a normal life over the course of the movies when he’s out of the bad situation, which is pretty good by Disney standards. Cameron Boyce did an amazing job playing him (R.I.P Cameron) and seeing an abuse victim get comfortable within their own skin and getting the happy ending they deserve is always fun.
Harry Hook: Insane (affectionate), most fashionable drama queen ever, absolutely crazy, more than a few screws loose but in the best way possible, he’s hilarious.
So on the surface, Harry’s pretty simple. A dude who’s lost his marbles and flirts with everyone. He probably has some kind of moral compass, since he didn’t rip Mal’s throat out with his hook when she revealed her little stunt in D3, but it fell overboard at some point and couldn’t be found so nobody knows what it is except Harry himself. Also, he has his sane moments, like during that same confrontation in D3 I mentioned before where he says “And you, King Benny... you're probably gonna throw us all back inside.” It’s the first time I’ve heard him sound… not like Harry. It’s sombre and defeated, a little disappointed maybe? Either way it’s really good acting and it implies he can act completely “normal” but he just chooses not to, which makes me like him even more. He’s just a dude living his best life despite the circumstances he was born into.
Gil: adorable, hilarious, kinda clueless but in a good way.
I love characters that have no idea what’s going on half the time but are absolute sweethearts trying their best. He’s like- the opposite of his dad in every way and I’m living for it!
Gaston Jr and Gaston the third: I don’t have much to say on them, let alone separately, so they get a section together.
Honestly? I don’t remember having an opinion of them. They made Evie happy by wresting, which is cool so they get points for that. Seem like they’re trying to out-gentleman each other to win Evie’s heart and since they’re not being creepy assholes about it they are objectively better than their dad. Very much brawl over brains, the two of them, with their constant wrestling reminding me of Carlos and Jay except they’re both the muscle. Kinda cute sibling relationship, even if it’s in a VK-typical villain-flavored way.
Anthony Tremaine: squeeeee, my type is pretty boys who sigh in annoyance at everything, I guess? We only get scraps but I happily cradle them to my chest.
Uhmmm so Anthony’s personality is mostly up for imagination? The only canon information we have is that he’s most likely Anastasia’s only kid (someone on Tumblr pointed out that, in the scene with the wicked step-daughters, he’s referred to only as their cousin, not their brother) and he’s very bored with his cousins’ antics. Given A Twist In Time the potential drama is endless. Every time Anthony’s mentioned we’re reminded he’s pretty and has good style, and I love that for him. Dude lives on an isle of junk and still looks like a supermodel. Lots of room for my own ideas while still remaining within the realm of “could be canon” with just enough base in there that I’m not just creating an OC, and as a writer and artist that’s all I need tbh.
Hadie: cute, deserves better, I need more of him and Mal bonding
Mal’s half-brother, son of Hades, very cool. I like that he’s trying to turn good and having a hard time, because that’s very realistic for someone who grew up not knowing anything other than evil. Descendants 2 tried to tackle it with Mal, but failed miserably. We know Hades sucks as a parent in descendants (neglect is abuse) so that’s not gonna help him.
Dough: Awww he’s so cute with Evie 🥺
No really that’s it. He’s a nerd that gets the girl, has some very funny moments, but honestly most of his character is centered around Evie? And they’re cute together it’s not a bad thing but there isn’t much to analyze. He’s understandably pissed about someone like Chad getting all the girls while using them, but that’s also only ever seen in relation to Evie.
Chad Charming: what a bitch (derogatory), total coward, I hate him but he’s funny.
So I have no issue with characters who conduct themselves terribly (I love Audrey, (fanon) Anthony, Uma, and many others from many fandoms) if, and that’s a massive IF, they have a good reason for it. And I’ll count “because I can and I want to” as a good reason, because by that point you have someone who’s mean and owns it. I can appreciate the self-awareness and usually those characters are very extra so it’s entertaining. If not that, there needs to be a reason they are the way they are. Audrey has the pressure from her grandmother (and the borderline verbal abuse), Uma has the very real grievance of living in squalor on a run-down island full of the worst of humanity because she was born, what does Chad have? He’s spoiled. A spoiled brat. And he goes from that to an overtly whimpering coward with none of the pretense of superiority in any field. His one saving grace is that he’s a massive joke.
Diego De Vil, Clay Clayton, Gonzo, Jace and Harry Badun, Herkie, Aziz, Jonas, Lefou Deux, Li Shang Jr, everyone else I missed: no opinion, because they’re not relevant enough for the writers to give them a personality.
I have nothing I’m sorry. I barely remember reading their names and I don’t remember anything from the scenes they’re (mentioned) in to get an idea of what to talk about here.
That was… a lot lmao
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feng-shui71 · 4 months ago
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Wait, so how did Wesker turn? When did he turn, Would he be considered an ancient vampire? Would he later turn Jordan, or does he take the "no, you're better as a human" route? How does he decorate his castel?
You said Vampire Jordsker AU and I jumped to your inbox
Holy shit oomf I did NOT think too far ahead about this au I was just watching Hotel Transylvania high as fuck and thought Drac was hot and then my dumbass brain went holy shit Vamp Wesker… I’m rubbing my hands so hard rn thank you god for sending this. First Vamp! Jordsker post is here for a little exposition, if you haven’t seen it already.
In my Vamp! Au I don’t envision Wesker to be a human-turned-vampire, or even a Dhampir. Considering how he is in the regular Resident Evil universe, a self-proclaimed “god” with superior anatomy and superhuman abilities, I believe the Vampire! Au equivalent of this would be him being a pure Vampire, a cruel and ancient being whos bloodlust knows no bounds, a literal god in this instance. Definitely is a local myth within the Arklay Mountains, signs are strewn around the outskirts of the forest, warning unknowing visitors to stay away at all costs, lest they want to be mauled and have their souls stolen by this beast. Of course, nobody ever listens to those and he gets a free dinner all the time.
As for Jordan, in the Vamp! Au they’re way more complicated than regular Jordsker, exes that hate each other with all of their being yet can’t get enough of one another (this is deadass their worst timeline). Jordan is a vampire hunter here, so most of the time she’s trying to hunt down and kill Wesker, whereas he likes to toy with her and use her for a free snack. I think for a while he doesn’t really care/doesn’t give much thought to her mortality, the fact that he’ll outlive her, it’s an afterthought considering she keeps trying to stake him all the time. However as she starts to get older, starting to move slower, it’s harder for her to recover after a bite, It dawns on him. He mulls over it for a few days before he approaches her, no mocking chase, no horny aggression, his cold hand coming up to caress her cheek as he proposes the idea of turning her into one, I mean, he always knew he could’ve but he loved the adrenaline that comes with each chase, tearing open her fragile skin with his bare hands and tossing her around like a ragdoll, it was much more fun messing around with her knowing she could so easily die if he applied just a tad bit more force, ever the sadist, he liked the risk. But now, it was getting old, and honestly, a bit pitiful, she looked much, much more busted and blue recently, might as well settle down, to which Jordan obliges. Not like she had a choice anyway, unlike regular Wesker, Vampire! Wesker has an absolutely shit moral compass and would force it upon her anyway, head shoved aside as the surface of her neck is exposed to him, the sight always made his teeth, fangs specifically, ache, so fucking bad. He’d turn her and force her to live with him at his castle, god forbid she keeps trying to reject him, which, she will. He’d have an “If I can’t have you, Nobody can” mentality and kill her, playing hard to get is fun but it gets to a point darling!
Also as for his castle I think the design would be pretty similar to this ask here. Specifically the Re5 Wesker interior design bit, the Gothic designs would be much more abundant within Vamp! Wesker’s abode, everything would have ornate details ranging from a simple mirror with an intricate design engraved into the wooden frame (he’s so extra btw you don’t need that you can’t see your reflection) to an entire ballroom decorated wall to wall with red black and white furniture, a massive chandelier hanging from the top to match. Guy probably has something similar to the Sistine Chapel ceiling painted all over his walls.
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rbbalmung · 10 months ago
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Pre-Timeskip Straw Hats Ranking:
1. Chopper - My baby. He’s like a little Ghibli character! I loved his design and he has such a good heart 🥹
2. Zoro - He’s so cool! I love how loyal he is and he always has the best fight scenes.
3. Luffy - Didn’t expect to like him this much, but here we are! God, he’s just such an interesting character. I really like characters with a strong moral compass/sense of their own justice, and Luffy fits that so well. Out of all the captains, I’d want him to be mine.
4. Sanji - He’s a little cringe (I am a woman), but he’s got really good scenes mixed in there! (Like that scene with Enel? Legendary).
5. Franky - TBH, he didn’t grow on me until Enies Lobby. But Franky is a homie! He’s SUPER!
6. Robin - Another character that took a bit to grow on me. I love how she just takes things in stride, it’s really funny. Her and Franky are my fave duo, so I love when they get scenes together!
7. Brook - I LOVE SKELETONS! I love his puns and his backstory made me cry. Minus points for the underwear thing, though
8. Nami - I like Nami! I wish she got a bit more control of the situations she gets thrown into (especially Thriller Bark, I felt so bad for her).
9. Usopp - I don’t hate Usopp, don’t get me wrong! He’s just kind of annoying. He’s the sniper of the crew, so it’s irritating that he rarely does any sniping. He also complains/is cowardly A LOT. I get that’s his character, but…
Time skip Ranking (I’m in Zou right now. Light spoilers for up until then?):
1. Luffy - My Number 3 pick overall! I love him so much, I can’t even. He’s really stepped it up! Something I really like about him is the slight changes in his personality after MarineFord. You can tell it effected him more than he lets on and I love that Oda is subtle about it. 10/10 protagonist!
2. Franky - SUPER!!! I just love him, he’s so fun! I may be a bit influenced because he’s my brother’s fave (we’re watching it together). Like Luffy, I love how positive and kind Franky is. I also love his power ups!! He’s so cool!!
3. Zoro - Still cool, haha. My opinion of him hasn’t changed much since before timeskip - he’s a really consistent, interesting character! I also love how he’s eager to fight, in a weird way. Nothing scares this man, it’s cool to see!
4. Usopp - Biggest jump on this list! But damn, I love Usopp now. He’s mellowed out a bit and takes a bit more of an active role on the crew! (Spoiler) He has Haki!!! I didn’t see that coming, but it’s by far the coolest Usopp moment yet!
5. Robin - As the sole introvert on a crew of extroverts, I love the dynamic she brings! Like I mentioned before, her “go with the flow” attitude is really unique and fun to see! I do wish they’d let her fight more, even though she has more of a supporting role.
6. Nami - Ever since Punk Hazard, I’ve come to realize the Nami is the heart of the crew. You can see how much she cares for everyone and wants the best for the people around her!
(I may start to sound mean from here on out, but I promise I like all the Straw Hats)
7. Sanji - SANJI STOP BEING CRINGE I SWEAR TO GOD. I know the Whole Cake is coming up soon, so I’m holding out for some major character development there. I just don’t like that women have taken over most of his screen time and that he holds resentment against Okamas. Like, not cool bro.
8. Chopper - He’s kind of been reduced to a mascot character. They never give him anything to do anymore (granted, he wasn’t in Dressrosa much so maybe I’ll be proved wrong). I don’t hate his new design, I just liked the other one better. And apparently he’s supposed to be 17??
9. Brook - Brook, for me, has filled the role Usopp had before timeskip. He’s always loud and being cowardly, it gets to be a little grating. He still has good moments, don’t get me wrong, but I wish he was a bit more like he was in Thriller Bark.
Bonus! Jinbe - Dad energy 👍 He was a real homie for Luffy on MarineFord, and I’m excited to see the dynamic he brings when he joins the crew!
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bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago
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Hourglass: Harmon 'Harm' Rabb x Reader
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Tagging: @keyweegirlie @dizzybee03 @snowlover250 @kenbechillin @@too-strong-to-lose @buckysteveloki-me @sca3a @flopiboni @secretsquirrelinc @sportslovers-world @burningpeachpuppy @@mandy426 @al-lethan thiashazzywriting @kmc1989
Companion piece to Flight Deck
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You can remember the exact moment you fell in love Harm. It was six am on a Tuesday and the two of you were standing at the railing near the back of the aircraft carrier watching the sunrise in the distance, trying to catch your breath. He’d run you ragged that morning, changing up the route a little, throwing in an obstacle or two.
I like to keep things interesting, he’d told you and you could certainly testify to that.
You’d spent three months in his company and you’d told that man things you haven’t spoken about in years. He’d unlocked the parts of you that had shut down after your marriage to Robbie, ignited things inside of you, you didn’t even know existed.
He’s laughing at something you’ve said when he tilts his head towards you. His t-shirt clings to his firm, broad chest, pulling taunt over his shoulders. His navy blue shorts cover his powerful, muscular thighs as you imagine getting on your knees and drawing them down his hips. His flock of dark hair wavers in the breeze as he looks at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling as he smiles.
Your breath catches in your throat and something blossoms deep down in your chest.
He’s a handsome man, you’re not the only one that thinks so. You see the looks some of the other women give him, the way their gazes stray across his form. You’ve been loved by attractive men before, you married one. It doesn’t mean anything.
Harm though, he’s different. You can see it in the way he listens to people, the way he talks to them. There’s an intimacy in the conversations you have, each one is give and take, a mutual sharing of information. There’s no judgement, no recrimination, just understanding. That’s what makes you fall in love with Harmon Rabb,  his compassion, his empathy.
The hourglass runs out before you can decide what to do about it.
One minute you’re the agent afloat, the next you’re being reassigned to New Orleans to investigate the murder of  NCIS Agent Christopher LeSalle because you have connections in that world. Your replacement is already on route. Your tenure on the USS Allegiance is over.
It’s that moment just before you step onto the flight deck to catch your chopper that you realise there’s a chance that he might feel the same way. He gives you that resigned smile, his palms coming to rest on your shoulders, squeezing lightly and you realise for the first time in five years you don’t want to leave. You’re not talking about the ship, you’re talking about him.
It’s the thought of not seeing him again that drives you. Never in a million years did you think you’d put your heart on the line but you do, because there is just something about Captain Harmon Rabb you can’t shake.
“Come visit me.” You request, your palms coming to rest on his chest. “The next time you have leave, come to New Orleans…”
You trail off then because you start to second guess yourself. You can’t hope that this man feels the same way that you do, you’re asking too much for something that a flirtation at best.
“New Orleans in the Spring could be fun,” He murmurs surprising you, his thumb chases over the line of your jaw as the edges of his mouth tip up into a smile.
You kiss him then and the feel of his lips pressing against yours, it’s better than you ever could have dreamed. Your fingers tangle in his hair drawing him closer and he moans into your mouth.
It’s the crackle of the radio that breaks you apart. It’s clear in that moment that he doesn’t want to let you go, you feel that reluctance acutely as you draw away, your hands still clasped in his.
“Stay safe.” He says softly before releasing you.
“Always Captain.” You murmur before issuing him a salute. “I’ll see you in the spring.”
Love Harm? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
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panthera-tigris-venenata · 11 months ago
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Summary: Being the ‘sensible’ one of the group isn't fun. 
Which is why these ‘sensible ones’ have what they like to call ‘bitching time’ together. Trigger Warnings: Underage drinking, swearing, implied violence, unhealthy coping mechanisms, etc.
Written by @hannahhook7744 and me ♥
Chapter 1:
Sammy sat at their usual table, desperately trying not to look around the establishment. They were late, of course they were.
Why would anyone ever be on time?
They looked into their almost empty glass. They were off-duty today and thus could drink, but they didn’t want to get too much into it in case anything happened. Force of habit, you see. They made a face into the glass and looked up when someone stopped at their table.
Jace Badun.
And a ragged looking Jace Badun at that. 
The not-so-gentle giant plopped down into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose: looking bone tired as he did so. 
Well, it looked like the lateness wasn’t entirely voluntary, at least, which earned Jace a small insignificant plus.
“What happened?” asked Sammy like the occasionally well-mannered gentle-pirate they were.
Jace gave them a look that could mean only ‘I’m not drunk enough for whatever is happening’, and waved at the server. Sammy immediately took the small insignificant plus away.
“Well?”
“Fucking Harry got in a fight with your Harry about their stupid nickname AGAIN.”
“I don’t know why you stop them. It tires them out and they can’t bother you like that. It’s mutually beneficial.”
Look, Sammy had opinions about the Hook siblings. Mainly, they thought they were fucking feral. Secondly, only they were allowed to say that out loud.
They looked at Jace.
Jace shot back a shot of dubious quality that he snatched from a nearby table and deadpanned: “I fucking hate you.”
Sammy shrugged. “Mood. Wanna order now or are you stealing tonight?”
Sammy didn’t care either way. Harriet was giving them extra money for these nights. Jace grimaced again.
“Order now. Talk later.” Jace sighed, waving a server down. The girl, dressed in something that was barely considered classy twenty years ago, unenthusiastically walked over to them:
“What do you want?”
“Just a beer for now.”
She scribbled that down on her pad and turned to Sammy. “Great. Anything for you?”
Sammy looked at their glass and shook their head. “I’m all set for now. I’ll let you know when that changes.”
“I have no doubt you will,” she more growled under her breath than anything.
Sammy suddenly felt a wave of compassion towards her.
“Will anyone else be joining you today, gentlemen?” she asked, looking around.
“One more. He's start off with champagne.” Jace added, grumbling. Before looking back at the blonde. “Uma said she can't come: her mom's running her ragged again.”
Sammy ignored the server, who looked way too pleased hearing Anthony will come, and asked: “Evie?”
Jace shrugged: “Who knows? She and Carlos are running around now, trying to get themselves killed with Maleficent Junior.”
Sammy nodded empathetically. They had withstanded one too many rants about certain purple haired dragon-spawn from Harry. “Or maybe Anthony will know more. You know, Villain kids. They would live at the Salon if they could.”
Sammy also knew way too much about Tremaine salon, thank you for asking. With that thought, they considered asking for another drink.
Jace, on the other hand, just sipped on his own. Clutching the glass tightly in his fist. “I know. I've had to help Yzla practically drag Zevon from there.”
There was no ‘practically’ about it. 
They HAD had to drag him away from the establishment. Multiple times. 
Usually on the threat of death from a more than mildly annoyed Anthony who was running on less sleep than Jace himself was. 
And at least he didn't have to deal with CJ Hook of all people.
Usually. 
As both younger Hooks took it as their personal challenge to annoy their sister’s totally-not-a-boyfriend as much as humanly possible. Sammy didn’t try to stop this, as that meant more peace for him.
And anyway:
“Speak of the devil,” Sammy nodded towards the entrance, where a certain Tremaine lord was just posing for everyone to notice.
“Please, let’s not,” groaned Jace, „I am not drunk enough to talk about the de Vils yet.“
Sammy inclined their head towards the entrance more empathetically to make the point, as if the particularly stupid and/or desperate boys and girls suddenly fluttering towards the area didn’t do it for them.
“Anthony, get your ass over here. We don't have all day!” Jace was five minutes away from ripping his own hair out. Or Anthony's. 
Preferably Anthony’s.
That bastard would have it fixed by next morning anyway.
“You don’t have all day,” corrected Anthony with a bloody smirk, “I do. And I believe Sammy has as well. Something about your day off and strangling me if– …I might have stopped listening at that point.”
Of fucking course he did.
He turned at the nearest server: “Would you get me a glass of champagne, sweetheart? To that table over there, with the two gentlemen that try to pretend they don’t know me.”
Several of the employees giggled, probably hoping for tips.
Then Anthony sauntered over to the table.
“You know I hate you, right?“ Sammy asked.
“I am truly honoured by that.”
“Bastard.”
Jace cut them off: “I already ordered for you.”
He rested his chin in his hand. Looking both bored and done with both of them at the same time. 
“Oh, did you? That’s nice.”
“It just means you’re an alcoholic,” informed Sammy half-heartedly, definitely not thinking of Harriet and any other pirates.
Jace kicked them in the ankle. “Says the pirate.”
“I only drink when Harriet doesn’t!”
The brunette raised a brow. “Uh huh. Sure.”
“I thought we were supposed to be bitching about others and not at each other?” Anthony snarked, grabbing  his glass of champagne. Which he got delivered with astounding speed, because of course he did.
Because of course little Lord Tremendous couldn't wait for anything, now could he? 
The priss. 
“Then shut up and get started,” Jace snapped. “Before I decide to stop wasting my time and leave.”
Anthony gave him a look: “You won‘t leave. You want to complain about your idiots too much for that. Speaking of that: Guess why Evie isn‘t coming?”
Sammy did not want to guess. They waved down one of the servers still hanging around and finally got a new drink.
So Jace bit the bullet and asked again. “Jay got caught stealing again?”
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thiccpettybitch · 2 years ago
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🕸 Bitter Sweet - Ch. 5 Miguel O’hara x F!Reader 🕸
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WARNING: SA, NonCon, Graphic description of violence, language and sexual themes.
Part 6
This chapter has a few sensitive scenes so read at your own discretion and keep yourself and your mental health safe.
 OR I’LL FKN COME OVER THERE! 👁️👄👁️
When I say you have no idea believe me, you have no ideaaaaa how many times I have gone over and edited this chapter. It’s a longer one kind of a two in one. Can you tell I love writing dialogue? I am trying to really establish relationships outside of the pairing and hope ya’ll are liking your aunt and uncle ❤️
The next day, you made the decision to sleep in, not rising from bed until around noon. Once you finally did get up you threw on something casual, and headed downstairs to get some breakfast and try to reason with your aunt and uncle. Afte what had happened there was no way they were thrilled about you going out to a party, let alone staying out all night. They were reasonable people though, you were sure they would understand, right?
‘’Absolutely not!’’ Your uncle said as he flipped to the next page in the newspaper he was reading.
‘’I wouldn’t be going alone; I would be there with Gwen and two other people. We are going as a group! And afterwards i’m sleeping over at Gwens. She will literally never leave my side’’ You whined while buttering up some fresh toast.
‘’Two, boys?’’ You went quiet trying to think of a response that would work in your favor.
‘’I mean… okay-- yes, but—‘’
Your uncle briefly glanced up from the newspaper, catching sight of the adorable puppy eyes you were giving him. Unamused by your expression, he raised the newspaper, intentionally concealing your face from his view.
"No way, we don't know these boys!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with concern.
‘’They’re from school, I know them. They’re my friends’’ You protested.
As you turned around, your hopeful eyes met those of your aunt. You wordlessly mouthed the plea "please..." and locked your gaze with hers. She looked at you with a mixture of tenderness and understanding before letting out a sigh.
‘’Ben…’’ Your aunt began, ‘’She did help out around here a lot this summer. She’s been keeping good grades and hasn’t missed any homework. Maybe…’’ She trailed off, leaving the words hanging in the air.
"Oh no, you're not against me on this too, are you?" Ben's voice tinged with concern, as he turned his attention to your aunt. "Maybelle, you know why I'm saying this. I just want her to be safe!" Your aunt nodded her head in agreement and walked over to your uncle. She placed a loving hand on his shoulder.
‘’So do i Ben but she is a good kid.’’ your aunt responded, her voice filled with compassion and understanding. "She deserves to have some fun. Y/n is almost an adult, and she has proven herself to be responsible. She's a good and honest kid, and I trust that she won't wait until the last minute to ask for permission ever again, Will she?’’ Your aunt glanced up at you, her eyebrow raised in a daring question.
You shook your head feverously, glancing between the two of them with a wide innocent smile.
You watched your uncle sighed, his shoulders slumping. He folded the newspaper and placed it down on the kitchen table, looking up at you.
YES!
"You keep your phone on you at all times, and you call us when you make it back to Gwen's," your uncle declared, his gaze fixed upon you with a stern look that conveyed the gravity of his expectations. The unspoken message was clear: there would be consequences if you failed to uphold your end of the deal.
‘’I will, I will! I promise!’’ You cheered.
Your uncle sighed again as he reached for a piece of toast, only for you to quickly snatch it from him and bite in to it. He looked up at you shocked, his mouth agape before turning to your aunt. ‘’Did you see that?! She has some nerve! She gets that from your side of the family,’’ he grumbled, a faint smile on his face.
"Oh, I don't know, is that the same nerve you have? Calling me by my full name, Mister Benjamin Franklin," With her hands on her hips, your aunt stood tall, staring down at your uncle with a stern yet loving gaze. He glanced over at you, this time with pleading eyes of his own. You slowly raised your hands, a piece of toast hanging from your mouth, you began to back out of the kitchen, carefully navigating your way out of the crossfire, toast still in tow.
The remaining part of the day was dedicated to tidying up your room, ensuring that there were no pending homework assignments, and meticulously styling your hair while also picking out an outfit. You ended up calling Gwen, seeking her opinion on several dresses, before ultimately decided on a stunning ruched mini dress.
Giving yourself a quick spin in front of the mirror, you couldn't help but admit that the color of the dress complemented your skin tone perfectly. You looked really good!
As you rummaged through your jewelry box, using your finger to shuffle things around, you made a mental note to properly sort through it when you had the time. Grabbing a pair of earrings, you confidently placed one in your ear. However, as you reached to put on the other earring, you suddenly froze, your hand suspended in front of your face.
You stared at the bracelet on your hand, a small scowl forming on your face. You quickly finished putting on the other earring and made your way to the jewelry box, staring down at your hand you mumbled something to yourself in frustration before finally making up your mind.
You grabbed onto the bracelet and began pulling it off, ignoring the red mark that was forming on your wrist. Once you got it off, you dropped it in the box with a huff. Examining your now bare wrist, you noticed a small tan line, not prominent enough to feel the need to cover it up, but enough to be an unwelcome reminder. Casting one last glance at the bracelet, a surge of emotion washed over you and you slammed the jewelry box shut, sealing away both the bracelet and the memory it held.
Your aunt called out to you from downstairs reminding you that it was time to get going. You snatched a pair of sneakers from under your bed, deciding to save yourself from the pain of a twisted ankle. Making your way down the stairs, excitement written all over your face and your sleepover bag slung over your shoulder.
‘’You’re not wearing your dress?’’ she asked as she picked up a lock of your hair, admiring it with a smile.
‘’No, it’s in my bag, I’m gonna get changed at Gwens just in case’’ you chirped. Truth be told you were excited; it had been forever since you had last been to a party. The thought of socializing, dancing a bit, and perhaps indulging in a drink or two~ filled you with giddiness and excitement. Above all, you were simply looking forward to enjoying yourself to the fullest.
"Okay, well, do you have a change of clothes?" You nodded.
‘’Your phone and charger just in case?’’ you aunt asked making you roll your eyes with a small smile on your face.
‘’Aunt May…’’ You began as you made your way towards the door. Your aunt jogged after you and called out in a hushed tone.
‘’What about protection?’’
You hit the brakes so hard your head flung forward, accidentally smacking your own forehead against the doorway of the kitchen. Suppressing a laugh, your aunt swiftly brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement. With a mischievous smile, she approached you, clutching a small box in her other hand. You rubbed at your forehead as you turned to look at her.
‘’Aunt May!’’ you hissed, your eyes darting over to your uncle sitting in the living room watching the news, clearly engrossed.
‘’I know I know, but it is always better to have something and not need it, rather than need something and not have it!’’ she insisted.
Your face turned a bright red. ‘’I won’t need it! I don’t—I won’t—‘’ you stammered.
"You really shouldn't, but here, take it anyways.’’ She held the box out towards you with a mischievous smile.
You wanted to drop dead on the spot. However, you managed to gather yourself and hastily snatched the box from her, stuffing it into your backpack. Your aunt smiled affectionately and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, just as your uncle joined you. His timing; impeccable!  
‘’Alright well… I’m off!’’ You said, the embarrassment still lingering.
Your aunt took a step back and nodded as she placed a hand on your uncles arm. They stood there watching you with loving eyes and kind smiles. You paused, turned back around, and embraced them both in a heartfelt hug. They returned the hug, holding you tightly for a moment before gently releasing you.
‘’Be safe! Make sure you go straight, to and from, Gwens house. Oh! and don’t talk to any strangers on your way there!’’ Your aunt said as you headed towards the door.
‘’I won’t’’ You promised.
‘’And if you see anything bad you—‘’ Your uncle began.
‘’I will turn around and head the opposite way, i know.’’ Your uncle grumbled something under his breath but ultimately left it at that. He held on to your aunts hand as you made it through the door.
‘’Oh! And drink moderately!’’ You aunt called out.
‘’Drinking?! No one said anything about drinking! You knew about drinking?’’ Your uncle began, rambling. You darted out the door and waved to them as you jogged out of there.
‘’Will do, love you guys!’’ You heard a faint ‘’you too…’’ as you walked away from the house.
 ____
Leaning back slightly on the heels of your feet, you casually knocked on the door in front of you. A faint sound of shuffling reached your ears from behind the door, and moments later, Gwen's father swung it open, revealing a warm smile on his face. He looked down at you and stepped aside, inviting you inside. As he closed the door, his eyes scanned you up and down, a fond smile forming on his lips. Commenting on how tall you had gotten he held out his arms and gave you a big bear hug.
"Damn, you've grown, kiddo! Are those some gray hairs I'm seeing?" he teased, his hand poised to ruffle your hair. However, you swiftly dodged out of the way, anticipating his playful gesture. After a life time of him treating you as his own daughter, you had gotten used to it.
"Pfft! I dig the crow's feet, they really complement the graying hair and the whole 'retirement home' outfit you've got going on," you retorted with a mischievous grin. Gwens father playfully placed his hands on his hips and looked away, shaking his head while smiling.
"Little punk..." he said affectionately. "Gwen's in her room. Off you go before you have me crying into my pillow at night," he joked, prompting both of you to burst into laughter, enjoying the playful banter.
As you entered Gwen's room, you were taken aback by the unexpected messiness. Clothes everywhere, and Gwen in the midst of rummaging through her closet, tossing one garment after another onto her bed. The frustration evident on her face, she eventually let out a frustrated groan before plopping down on her bed, defeated.
‘’Woah. I’m guessing you haven’t picked what to wear yet?’’ You say with a sheepish smile. You dropped your bag on the floor, by the door as you stepped inside and sat down next to her.
She sighed and greeted you with a tired smile, ‘’What gave it away?‘’ she asked sarcastically and you scoffed loudly. ‘’Maybe we should call the whole thing off…’’ She said frowning.
‘’I did not have to endure my aunt handing me a box of emergency condoms for us to not go’’ You said with an awkward smile on your face. Gwen looked up at you shocked and you both burst out laughing. She bumped in to you, her way of saying thanks for lightening the mood.
Gwen spent the next forty minutes trying different outfits while you put your makeup on and made sure your hair still looked good. ‘’What about green?’’ She asked holding up a pair of shorts.
‘’You look fine in green but those shorts aren’t really giving me the party vibe.’’ She silently nodded and hung them back inside her closet.
‘’What about…. Red and blue?’’ she asked holding up a jumpsuit.
‘’I don’t know… I always kind of envisioned you in more white and pink colors if you were gonna wear one of those suits’’ you casually responded, wiping some mascara from under your eye.
She let out a groan and tossed the outfit on the bed narrowly avoiding your head. ‘’It’s impossible! Since when do I struggle picking out an outfit?!’’
‘’Well actually…’’ you began awkwardly getting up and joining her. ‘’I wasn’t going to say anything but since you brought it up, could it be that you’re over thinking it?’’ You asked looking at her.
‘’Over thinking?’’ She said, awkwardly folding some hair behind her ear. ‘’Over thinking about what? Why would I be overthinking?’’
‘’You are overthinking this! You never have any issues picking out clothes. Could it be because of, you know…’’ You began and Gwen turned away from you as you spoke.
‘’I know…’’
"Because of Miles.’’ You said with a mischievous smile, your voice maintaining a monotone tone. ‘’You know Miles? The guy you like? You know who I’m talking about? M-I-L-E-S" you teased.
She threw a pillow at you making you laugh. Her eyes narrowed dangerously but you could see a smile on her face. ‘’I know what you mean! You jerk!’’ She exclaimed.
Just as the both of you were about to start an all-out pillow war her dad knocked on the door and walked inside, once he got the all clear.
"No, I got her right here, Ben," Gwen's father walked in with his phone against his ear as he waved at you. You smiled and returned the wave. Suddenly, you realized you had forgotten to let your aunt and uncle know that you had made it there safely. Gwen's dad could see the panic on your face as you stared at him, and he waved a dismissive hand your way.
‘’No it’s my bad Ben, I was talking to the girls about some safety procedures, she didn’t get the chance to yet. Don’t worry I’m not sleeping till they’re back here. If anything comes up, I’m not far away and I got my cruiser parked outside. They will be fine.’’ He said with a wink and you smiled wider. Gwnes father walked out of the room, closing the door after himself and you let out a deep breath.
Phew! That could have been bad. Gott remember to make it up to you them tomorrow.
Gwen's excitement peaked as she finally found something to wear. Could it be because you both had a heartfelt conversation and made a promise to never leave her alone, just her and Miles? Maybe so, maybe so.
Either way, she decided to go with a short white dress, a long black cardigan, a pink choker and some silver chains and finally a pair of black low heels.
She looked really cute and you complimented her which caused her to just awkwardly shrug and slip the sleeves down over her hands. Speaking of hands, Gwen suddenly grabbed yours, holding it up and inspecting your wrist. Cursing under your breath you pulled your wrist back and turned away from her, holding your wrist against your chest with a bitter look on your face.
‘’This mean you’re officially over him or-- ?’’
"That is NOT why I wore it!" you hissed , your tone coming out harsher than you intended.
‘’Okay… Sensitive.’’ She said holding her hands up. You sighed and turned back to her.
‘’I’m sorry i- I didn’t mean to--’’ Gwen pulled you in for a hug and you relaxed in to it with a smile.
‘’Thanks. For—well, you know.’’ You said and she nodded.
The rest of the hour was spent adding finishing touches, running over the plan with Gwens father, again, and finally you were on your way to the party. It was only about a fifteen-minute walk.
‘’So, is your dad really going to sit up and wait for us? Do we need to be home by a certain time?’’ You asked skeptically.
Gwen shook her head while playing with the sleeves on her cardigan ‘’No, he’ll fall asleep on the couch after watching a few movies. It’s more of a trust system, as long as we don’t stay out all night he doesn’t mind’’ she said.
‘’Ugh I wish I had a trust system…’’ you mumbled.
‘’I mean you were recently in a life-or-death situation. I don’t really blame your aunt and uncle for being extra protective.’’ Gwen said casually.
‘’Yeah I guess…’’
After walking for about ten minutes, Gwen pulled out her phone and navigated the two of you to the designated meeting spot. As you rounded a corner, you spotted the guys waiting there. Miles was dressed in baggy dark shorts, a basketball jersey, and a hoodie layered with a jacket. Hobie, on the other hand, sported tight black ripped jeans, a black T-shirt paired with a leather vest, and accessorized with a spiked collar around his neck and a spiked bracelet on one hand. Both of them looked stylish, but it was clear who had captured Gwen's attention.
‘’Hey guys—Gwen, you look… good. Great! You look great!’’ Miles said as the two of you walked up to him. He stared at her with wide eyes, and Gwen nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Ahem!" Hobie cleared his throat, nudging Miles and snapping him out of his trance. Miles turned his gaze towards you and flashed an awkward smile.
‘’Oh, and you too y/n! You look good too!’’ Miles said scratching the back of his head.
You rolled your eyes and smiled brightly. You all began walking towards the party as a group, Miles and Gwen ended up walking ahead, while you and Hobie walked next to each other. He offered you his arm, ‘’M’lady?’’ he asked with a grin on his face.
"Why, thank you, good sir!" you exclaimed, putting on a posh and snobby voice as you slid your arm under his.
The two of you ended up walking together talking and joking, a few of the jokes being about the two people in front of you. Occasionally, Miles would cast a hesitant glance back, only to be met with a reassuring smile from Hobie, who silently encouraged him to be confident. With the sun having set, the city revealed its enchanting beauty under the night sky.
Finally, you all made it to the party, it was being held in a house in a more suburban area of the city. Once you all made it inside you ended up splitting up. You and Miles went to get some drinks while Gwen and Hobie found a place to sit; a comfortable distance from the music, allowing you to have a conversation without it blaring in your ears, yet still able to hear the rhythmic beats.
You made your way towards the kitchen, greeting a few people you knew from school along the way. Once you entered the kitchen, you effortlessly grabbed two ciders, while Miles swiftly retrieved two red cups.
‘’You know—‘’ Miles began awkwardly, ‘’You always see these red cups in movies where there are parties happening. I don’t even know what they are called haha. But they’re always… always there.’’ His voice gradually becoming more quiet.
‘’They’re disposable beer pong cups, Miles.’’ You said with a smile, faint amusement on your face.
‘’Right— right! Cuz... that’s what you do with cups. Besides drinking of course. Uhm—‘’ He began again and you chuckled.
‘’Miles relax, just take a deep breath’’ You said putting a supportive hand on his shoulder.
Miles nodded a few times taking a few deep breaths. ‘’I’m good, I’m cool. Thank you y/n. I’m just nervous man… don’t tell Gwen—‘’ You held your hands up running one of them over your lips in a ‘’my lips are sealed’’ motion.
"You want my advice? Just relax and have a great time. Tonight is all about being with her, surrounded by good music, drinks, and friends. Just be true to yourself," you said, pouring two drinks in to the cups.
‘’Everyone keeps saying that, You, Hobie my Mom! Just be yourself. What does that even mean?’’ Miles says with a bitter voice.
‘’It means; be the nice and funny guy we all know and love. Be Miles, be yourself.’’ You said with the same reassuring smile.
Miles looked at you surprised before smiling, he nodded his head and poured the drinks motioning for you to follow him. ‘’Thanks y/n. Oh and… don’t tell anyone about the whole mom thing?’’
‘’My lips are sealed, Morales.’’ You said with a wink and he just chuckled shaking his head at you.
The rest of the hour was fun, and you found yourself playing the role of the beer maid, fetching drinks for everyone. You didn't mind, though. As you returned with drinks in your hands, you noticed that Miles and Gwen had stepped to the side to hang out. You walked over to them, handing them their new drinks, shooting a playful wink at Gwen before leaving them to talk.
As you walked away you glanced around the room in search of Hobie, your eyes eventually landed on him leaning against a doorway. You were about to walk over to him when you noticed that he was talking to another guy you didn’t recognize. You watched as Hobie leaned over towards the guy and whispered something in his ear, most likely as the music was loud. The guy looked a bit flustered and Hobie ran his hand over the guys hand, causing the guy to blush and smile up at him. You realized that they were flirting and awkwardly darted away making sure you didn’t third wheel.
You made it over to a bay window, sitting down and leaning back against the window frame, enjoying the music and sipping on your drink. Glancing around the room you saw a few people you knew and smiled their way. In one corner you saw Reilly leaned against a wall flexing his muscles. You internally facepalmed as you watched the group of girls surrounding him fawn over him, or more specifically his physique. He flexed his arms and slapped his biceps inviting anyone to touch them if they dared. You shook your head, that guy was such a dork.
You suddenly froze, your eyes going wide as you realized who was standing, leaned up against a wall a few feet away from Reilley. The thought of Miguel being here hadn’t even crossed your mind, you had been so busy dealing with your aunt and uncle and Gwen and Miles that you forgot to even ask him.
What should you do? Should you even do anything? Are you leaning weird? You scooted further up the windowsill making sure to pull down your dress as you did. Your chest bounced up and you awkwardly caught a guy checking you out, it wasn’t really wanted so, ew. You shot him a nasty look and he seemed to catch on.
‘’Hey’’
You nearly jumped out of your skin when Hobie joined you, but quickly scooted over to create some space for him. He sat down beside you, settling in comfortably.
‘’Hey! having a good time?’’ You asked with a smile.
‘’Yeah, music’s garbage though’’ he said with a hint of a smirk.
‘’Oh yeah? Didn’t look like you were paying much attention to the music’’ you said with a grin.
‘’Oh! Was you watching me? Perv~’’ You lightly bumped into him, making him chuckle.
‘’I never knew you swung both ways,’’ you said while vibing to the music. You liked Post Malone, you thought as you sipped on your drink.
‘’Ah. Guy, Gall. It’s all calm, innit?’’ He said dismissively, you looked at him a bit confused and he shrugged.
‘’Don’t really matter what’s on the outside, you feel me? It’s what’s on the inside that matters.’’ He said while leaning back and inhaling through a single nostril before shrugging nonchalantly.  
You flashed a smile and nodded in agreement. "I like the way you put it," you said, and he responded with a smile of his own.
After chatting for a while, Hobie gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder and went back to the guy he had been talking to. They found a spot on the couch and picked up where they left off. Meanwhile, you pulled out your phone to check for any missed calls or messages. As you scrolled through your inbox, you came across Peter's name and frowned.
You glanced up and spotted Miguel still leaned up against a wall, talking to some friends. Your heart fluttered as you watched him laugh at a joke, his smile causing your cheeks to heat up a bit. Maybe the drinks you had been sipping on so far helped a bit but you were pretty sure it was mostly him.
Talk to him.
Biting down on you bottom lip you could feel the nervousness ripple through your entire body. Should you go over there? What would you say? He’s clearly over there with friends, but… you were also his friend. Why else would he give you, his number?
More like he took yours but, tomato potato.
That’s not how that goes… you’re tipsy.
You observed with a sinking feeling as a woman approached from behind and leaned against Miguel's arm. Her gaze met his, and they exchanged smiles while he took another sip from his drink. The once warm fluttering sensation within you swiftly transformed into an icy grip, a sense of disappointment and unease settling in.
Was he here with someone…?
Well, duh, he is a hot guy. Why wouldn't he be here with someone? You thought bitterly to yourself. In fact, you hadn't even considered the possibility that he might not be single. For all you know, he could have a partner, maybe even several. The cold feeling spread to through your chest, and it made you feel nauseous. The girl leaned against him asking him something with a devilish smirk on her face. Miguel shook his head and leaned down to whisper something in to her ear. For a moment it looked as if he might have seen you, if he had however, he didn’t seem to care.
Ouch.
Glancing back down at your phone, you noticed the visible tan line on your wrist and frowned. You grabbed your drink and finished it, feeling a bit uneasy. Sliding your phone back into your purse, you headed back towards the kitchen, the same frown still on your face. You decided to stay away from that side of the house. As you approached the kitchen, someone bumped into you with enough force to send you on your knees.
‘’Oops- my bad!’’ It was Reilly and as he apologized, he grabbed you by the arms and lifted you up without much effort. Holy crap he was strong!
‘’I don’t realize how strong I am, sometimes it’s really more of a curse than a gift.’’ He laughed as he let go of you.
You let out an awkward laugh dusting off your knees and pulling your dress down a bit.
‘’Do I know you from somewhere?’’ he asked inspecting your face with a hand on his chin.
‘’Oh uhm, we have some classes together, mainly Spanish’’ You answered awkwardly.
‘’Oh! Right! Ehl-span-hjol!’’ he said with a grin and you had to fight the urge not to visibly cringe. ‘’I thought I recognized you from across the room’’ he continued while leaning against the kitchen counter.
You grabbed another drink and turned to him surprised, ‘’you were watching me?’’
He shook his head opening a beer and taking a big sip of it, ‘’Nah nothing creepy like that, I just noticed you because, you know, you’re pretty and stuff’’ He said flashing you a million dollar smile.
Before you had a chance to respond, another guy swung by with a tray of something. He placed the tray down next to the two of you and shouted something about putting down a vase, and that if it broke his parents were gonna kill him. Must have been the host you thought to yourself.
‘’You gotta try these, they are A- MAZING!’’ Reilly exclaimed, holding up a tray filled with small glasses of Jello-O. As you inspected them closer, you couldn't help but be intrigued.
Shrugging you grabbed one and threw it back, it was super fruity with a hint of something bitter. ‘’They’re nice’’ you said with a faint smile.
‘’Try a green one, they are the best! Or was it orange…?’’ Reilly said inspecting them.
In the end you ended up having at least one of each, maybe eight or nine of them in total. You let out a mix of a burp and a hiccup. Reilly made a joke that made you laugh. You found this guy to be so darn funny!
‘’Anyways that’s how I beat a horse in arm wrestling, well more like leg wrestling but that’s not the point’’ he said with a smirk.
‘’A horse kicked you in the chest?!’’ You asked both confused and surprised.
‘’What can I say, he was a sore loser’’ He shrugged and flexed his right arm.
You laughed loudly, slapping his arm a few times in the process. You could not believe how funny this guy was! Was- was he always this funny?
‘’These Jell-O candies are really good, but I think I’ve had enough.’’ You awkwardly laughed.
‘’Shots’’ He corrected while looking down at his own biceps.
‘’Sorry?’’ You asked confused.
‘’They’re Jell-O shots, you know—the drink but Jell-O?’’
‘’There’s booze in these?’’ You asked with a frown.
‘’Ya, not much though so you should be fine. Unless you’ve been drinking a lot before this.’’ He said shrugging his shoulders. ‘’Oh! There’s Stacy, I will see you—‘’ he said winking and clicking his tongue, clearly checking you out ‘’--later!’’ Before chasing down another girl.
You quickly descended from the counter, but as your feet hit the ground, you cursed as the room seemed to spin around you. You had to catch yourself on the counter to steady your balance, feeling a bit disoriented.
You knew there was a reason you found that idiot funny!
You took a moment to steady yourself and made your way towards the living room, your head and vision was spinning a bit and it felt as the more time passed the worse it was getting. You glanced around the room for any signs of Hobie.
You check the couch but instead of Hobie, the girls that were surrounding Reilly earlier were sitting on it. They saw you and eyed you before whispering among themselves and giggling. You frowned feeling very self-conscious as you made your way back to the window.
You couldn’t see Hobie anywhere nor could you see Gwen or Miles, last you had seen them they were heading upstairs, and there was no way you trusted yourself to walk upstairs at the moment.
Getting back on your feet, you decided it was best to head towards the door for some fresh air, even if you were feeling a bit unsteady.
Leaning against the wall for support, you slowly made your way, contemplating whether leaving the party in your current state was a good idea. Perhaps it would be better to stay inside and find a place to rest?
As you weighed your options, fate intervened, and suddenly, you tripped over something and stumbled forward, bracing yourself for the impact. However, to your surprise, pain never came.
Opening your eyes, you found yourself in the arms of a tall, slim guy with glasses. He had come to your rescue and helped you back up on your feet. As you steadied yourself, you couldn't help but notice the shared state of drunkenness between the two of you.
‘’m’sorry’’ you mumbled straightening up.
You leaned against a nearby wall, letting out a huff as the guy stumbled and fell against you. He mumbled something about being embarrassed and how much he liked you; Olivia. Last time you checked however your name was not Olivia. You tried to move him off you but he wouldn’t budge. He shifted his head closer to your ear, continuing to mumble about his feelings for you and how you made him feel. It reminded you of the moments when Miguel used to whisper things in your ear during Spanish class, but this situation felt entirely different; this was making you feel nauseous.
As you desperately attempted to free yourself, you realized he was forcefully pressing against you, effectively trapping you between his body and the wall. An overwhelming sense of sickness and panic surged through you, leaving you trembling with fear and unease. You felt his hand come up against your thigh gripping you painfully, his thumb slid against the inside of your thigh and under the hem of your dress.
‘’Please get off me…’’ You let out a trembling whimper as a wave of fear washed over you, causing tears to well up behind your eyes.
The guy grinded up against you and you almost gagged, you turned your head away from him as he tried to go in for a kiss. His weight pressed down on you, made it difficult to breathe, let alone call for help. The room spun around you, but amidst the blurry figures and distant voices, you realized that no one seemed to notice the distress you were in. It was as if you were invisible, trapped in a nightmare with no one to save you.
You watched in horror as the guy continued to grind against your hip, his advances becoming more forceful. You couldn't bear the unwanted touch any longer, and a quiet cry for help escaped your lips. Desperation filled your mind as you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what would come next. And then, suddenly the weight on top of you vanished, along with the unwelcome hands. The fear that had gripped you was replaced with shock and confusion.
You opened your eyes, and to your relief, you saw the guy being forcefully pushed up against the opposite wall. A large hand held him in place, keeping his head pinned against the surface. The sight before you brought a mix of emotions—gratitude, confusion, and a glimmer of hope.
"Don't know how to keep your hands to yourself, eh cabrón?" Miguel spat, his voice filled with anger and disdain as he stared down the guy who had assaulted you. The intensity in Miguel's eyes was so fierce that it almost made his eyes appear red. It was a gaze filled with anger and protectiveness.
Miguel tightened his grip on the guy's skull, his fingers digging into the man's scalp like sharp talons. Gritting his teeth, Miguel applied more pressure, causing the guy to whimper in pain. The sound was drowned out by the thumping music in the background.
Suddenly, you felt a pair of gentle hands on your shoulders, causing you to flinch involuntarily. The arms wrapped around you, providing support and comfort. As you looked up, you met a pair of kind brown eyes that exuded warmth and compassion. The woman in front of you flashed a gentle smile, concern etched across her face. You realized that it was the woman from before, the one that seemed close to Miguel.
"You okay, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine care. The tears welled up in your eyes once again as you glanced at the guy who had just assaulted you and then back at her. The weight of the situation bore heavily on you, and you nodded, unable to find your voice in that moment.
Miguel leaned closer to the guys head, ‘’Podría aplastarte la cabeza aquí mismo, contra esta maldita pared.’’ He snarled.
‘’Miguel!’’ The woman called out.
Miguel turned around, keeping his hand pinned against the guy’s head. He glanced at the woman who gestured towards you, and as his gaze met your tear-streaked face, his expression shifted from a snarl to a deep frown. With a sigh, he slowly released his grip on the guy's face. Instead, he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and forcefully tossed him towards the door, watching as he flailed and crashed into it. Miguel then walked over and positioned himself between you and the guy, his back turned to the drunken assailant.
"Get the hell out of here, before I break every bone in that hand," he warned, looking down at you, his gaze fixed on your teary eyes. Slowly, he extended his hand towards your face.
"Oh yeah? Nnn'hat if I don't?" the guy slurred, his words barely coherent.
You watched as Miguel's entire demeanor shifted.
"Not a good idea, kid..." the woman warned, her voice filled with caution as she pulled you protectively towards herself.
Miguel whipped around to face the guy, the muscles in his shoulders and back tensing, his tall frame towering over the guy. His intense glare made it seem as if he was about to rip the guy's head off. "Do you want to find out?’’ ��he uttered, the words dripping with a menacing threat rather than a genuine question.
"Miguel," the woman called out again, her voice filled with concern. But Miguel remained motionless, his focus entirely on the guy in front of him.
The drunk guy, on the other hand, shook his head, stumbled towards the door, and hastily made his way out. The commotion had caught the attention of the surrounding partygoers, and now their eyes were on you and the aftermath of the incident. Feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief, you looked around awkwardly until your gaze landed on the woman who had been holding you. With a comforting smile, she offered you a sympathetic look.
Finally, Miguel turned around taking a deep breath, running a hand through his hair to slick it back into place. He faced you, and you cautiously looked up at him, uncertain of what to expect. As he gazed down at you, his face had returned to its usual state - a deep frown and furrowed brows.
The woman released her grip on you, and you tentatively approached Miguel, intending to apologize. However, your steps faltered, causing you to stumble slightly. In a swift motion, Miguel reached out and grasped your arm, steadying you. Without a word, he guided you towards the door, and you walked alongside him, feeling a mix of gratitude and awkwardness. As the door closed behind you, shutting off the noise from the party, the woman went over to the speakers and turned up the volume. It was as if a collective amnesia had taken hold, and everyone seemed to have forgotten the previous events.
Miguel abruptly spun you around to face him, and before you could utter an apology, he pulled you firmly against his chest. You froze in place, your arms hovering uncertainly as he enveloped you in his embrace. His protective arm rested on the small of your back, providing a sense of comfort and safety. With a touch of tenderness, his right hand gently stroked your hair, though his movements were slightly awkward. You felt a mix of emotions, unsure of how to react to this unexpected display of gentleness.
"It's okay, I've got you.’’ Miguel reassured you, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. Your shoulders began to shake, overwhelmed with emotion.
"You're safe with me. No one is going to lay a hand on you," he continued, his soothing tone soothing your frazzled nerves. Unable to contain your tears any longer, you began to cry against his chest, finding solace in his protective embrace.
The door slammed open, and a concerned Miles and Hobie rushed out, followed closely by a panicked Gwen.
"Oi bruv, what are you doing?!" Hobie questioned, stepping towards the two of you, seemingly ready to intervene. In response, Miguel raised his eyes with an almost bored and unfazed expression, although his muscular back remained tense, as if he was still prepared for anything.
"Woah, it's alright, man. It's Miguel. What happened?" Miles interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension. As Miguel saw Miles, he visibly relaxed.
"Y/n, oh my god!" Gwen cried out, running towards you with open arms. Miguel moved to the side, allowing Gwen to envelop you in a tight embrace. Meanwhile, Hobie glared at Miguel, clearly still harboring some animosity. Miles intervened, placing a calming hand on Hobie's shoulder and urging him to relax.
"Y/n, I'm so, so sorry! What happened? Are you okay? People were saying you were in a fight?!" Gwen's voice trembled with concern as she anxiously assessed your well-being.
"It’s been dealt with.’’ Miguel responded quietly, his gaze fixed on you.
"I didn't ask you," Gwen hissed at Miguel, her frustration palpable. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in exasperation while muttering something in Spanish.
As you mumbled something about Miguel saving you from the drunk guy, your body shivered in disgust, the memories still fresh in your mind.
Gwen expressed her gratitude and offered an apology to Miguel, who simply waved his hand in a dismissive manner, while shaking his head.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over you, and you bent over, vomiting into a nearby bush. Interestingly enough Jell-O shots taste the same coming up as they do going down.
Next thing you knew, Miguel had scooped you up in his arms, carrying you through the streets of the city on his back. As you looked down, you realized you were wearing an oversized shirt, and the bare skin against you felt warm and comforting.
‘’W- what’s going on?’’ You questioned confused and drunk.
‘’You are being taken back to your friend house.’’ Miguel said, his hands folded under your ass as he carried you on his back.
‘’Why are you naked?’’
‘’I’m not— I am not naked, tonto! I am just shirtless, thanks to you.’’ He answered bitterly.
‘’I got you naked?’’ You drunkenly slurred, a smile on your face.
‘’Ay, por dios… You threw up all over your dress! I am not carrying you with vomit all over yourself.’’ He said with a tired sigh.
‘’m’sorry Miggy~’’ You whimpered.
‘’Don’t call me—‘’ he sighed, ‘’don’t worry about it, dummy.’’ You let out a small giggle and he scoffed in response, shaking his head. You had your arms resting on top of his shoulders and as your wrist came in to his vision he stopped for a moment.
‘’No more bracelet?’’ he asked as he continued walking behind the rest of the group.
‘’Why’s everyone noticing it all of a sudden?’’ you asked frowning.
‘’That mean you finally over that kid?’’ He asked nonchalantly.
‘’s’not why I wore it….’’ You sulked.
He hummed as he listened to you speak. ‘’You’ll have to get a replacement then.’’
‘’I don’t want a replacement’’ you mumbled, sulking.
‘’What do you want then?’’ he asked curiously.
Thinking for a moment your mumbled:
‘’Would you get me one? From you?’’
Miguel went silent for a moment as he walked, you rested your head against his shoulder nuzzling in to the crook of his neck sighing contently.
‘’Is that what you want?’’ he questioned, had you been more sober you might have noticed how serious his tone was, but alas.
‘’Yeah, I want one from Miguel.’’ You said with a smile as you slowly drifted off to sleep.
‘’Lo tienes, cariño’’ He mumbled as he carried you back to Gwens place.
___________________________________________________________
· Podría aplastarte la cabeza aquí mismo, contra esta maldita pared - I could smash your head right here against this fucking wall.
· ‘’Lo tienes, cariño’’ – You got it, sweetheart.
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