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short-black-diamond · 1 year ago

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I HAVE IDEAS FOR SHES A PRO PART 5 !!

Imagine they had a break so they went to a mall w Yena to see what she's into right??

( Cuz they're all DOWN BAD for her )

And Yena knows they r😘

SO!! She decides to tease them w a somewhat revealing fit🤭

IMAGINE :

Corset type of top

Hair down to flex ✨

Tight jean shorts around upper thigh

Thigh high socks or stockings?

WITH PLATFORM BOOTS💋

(MAYBE A LETTER JACKET?? 👀)

Her thighs be looking THICC

( isagi w the thigh fetish😱😍)

After that, the boys can't keep their eyes off of her, they also cant keep it in their pa-

Yena obvi teases them calling them a perv and (MAYBE??) get kaiser and ness to pay for her stuff (CUZ THEIR RICH🤑) and they do it because

Yena : 😘😚

Everyone : 🙏😋🧎🧎‍♂️

You can add wtv else u want!! :))

AYO YEASSSSSSSSSS THIS IS WHAT WE'RE TALKING ABOUT

MAKE IT GOOOOOOOOOTHHHHHH💀💀

Is it okay if I try to bring an OC into this? it's a boy btw

However, I'd like for yena to not know that the bois are simping for her, so I will build up the tension and then let her find out!! Also I don't want Kaiser to pay for her stuff because she kicked him-she kicked ness too but he forgave her, you know? So I'd rather have Reo pay for her or she pays herself because Yena (you are) is a strong independent woman.

I DID NOT PROOFREAD

warnings/summary: you and teieri become besties, has Nagi a foot fetish?, jelly Rin, slurssss, you a bad bitch, soft/angst moments with kunigami, otoya whimpers and you have butterflies in your tummy from that, you meet kiyora, kurona and niko for the first time

Word count: 6.6k words wtf..

Just a quick and gentle reminder that everything I write is in headcannons and good fun, and if it bothers anybody, then they should stop reading this series.

---

"Yo, she's a pro." ...part five

part one, part two, part three, part four

You had tears flowing down your eyes, but you were also smiling with a blush. you loved seeing Rin smile, it just made your worst days more precious. you sighed as you closed Rin's door and made your wy to your dorm.

You were just rounding the corner when you nearly bumped into Teieri. She was just about to speak to you, so it was a good thing you two met. "Ah, yena, I just wanted to speak to you!", she said in a cheery tone, though you took a few steps back with a frown.

and...were you trembling...?

She flinched before she waved her hands around. "N-no! It's nothing bad this time, Yena! Please calm down! I just wanted to tell you that you'll be able to go and have some free time now. The weekend is free, so you can do whatever you like on saturday and sunday!", she exclaimed in a rush, not wanting the only other female in this facility to be scared of her.

you sighed in relief. "Thank you, ma'am. And will you have some free time too? I guess not...", you mumbled, feeling bad for the manager. she only shook her head wiht a smile. "It's all good, really-" "I heard there's a discount on the women's articles this weekend...", you interrupted her.

She pressed her lips together with a frown. "If you want to, I could look at some stuff for you. What is your style, teieri?", you asked politely. you felt bad for the woman and buying her something she liked would for sure come in sweet.

"w-well, I really like cute stuff and all...", she started, but you only raised your hand. "Cute stuff, got it. Let me surprise you.", you then said with a ghost of a smile before you retreated. She huffed in amusement at you.

"Oh, and yena?" "Yea?"

teieri smiled at you. "You know that you're holding the boys in a chokehold, right?", to which you turned to her completely.

"Hah?"

She giggled. "Yena, none of these players had shown this much enthusiasm and motivation to train until you came, you know? I think most of them got a crush on you~", she mused and poked your sides.

You squirmed with a blush. "N-no way that's true...", you wheezed as she started to tickle you. "Oh yes, Reo, Nagi, Rin, Bachira, Isagi, and all the other boys you've interacted with!" Anri was truly the mother you wished you had.

you may not look like it, but you were just the sweetest thing on earth...even if you kicked ness and kaiser in the groins and absolutely bruised Otoya up by shredding him with a ball.

She only shook her head with a fond smile before she went, you'd tell the others anyway.

---

"SHOPPING SPREE!!!", everyone cheered. more like reo, accompanied by Nagi who said it more sleepily and you in a monotone voice. rin only raised his fist. you were there with Reo, Nagi, and Rin. Bachira texted you that he was already checking out a store with Isagi, so it was just you four for now.

And, well, as you were strolling through the first few stores, disconnected from the outside world as your focus was directed towards a top which you were admiring... the boys only looked around sheepishly and blushing. They were all following after you like lost puppies, not wanting to part from you.

And now back to the top, it wasn't any type of top either. It was a dark green corset, with black embroidments and dark silver bones to uphold the form.

You were blushing at the piece. Something about this corset was just...so...etheral, so old-fashioned and pretty. you truly loved the victorian age and gothic aesthetic...and when they meshed...an impulse-buying Yena got born.

"This looks ravish...", you breathed as your eyes were wide, and you stood there for a moment before you quickly took all the other corsets you found and weren't similar to the ones you already had.

you felt like you were in paradise. You were glad that you came here early. you were glad that this shop was still nameless. you were glad that-

"Mind if I hold that for you?", Reo asked softly, tearing you out of your onslaught of praise to...no one. You blinked a few times before you dumped your items on him and went to the shorts section. you were too engrossed in what you were doing that you didn't even notice Isagi and Bachira come into the shop as well.

Rin's eye twitched when he saw Bachira's grin and Isagi's smile, both blushing when they saw Yena at the pants section. "what are you guys doing here?", the dark haired boy asked in a mean tone as he watched the two with a disgusted face.

Isagi and Bachira only frowned at him. "Yena invited us!", Bachira cheered before he slung his arm around Isagi's neck with a grin.

Rin groaned internally. you were a sly witch, he had to give you that. Wanna know how you managed to get him to go shopping? Chat:

Rin - Morning, Yena. You - Hey Rin. Wanna go out? Rin - (5 min later) In what way...? You - What do you mean what way, if you don't wanna hang out just say it damn😒 Rin - Well I'd like to know if it's Rin - Just the two of us You - WE CAN MAKE IT IF WE TRY~ JUST THE TWO OF US Rin - Or where we are going (WE CAN MAKE IT IF WE TRY~ JUST THE TWO OF US) ↳ Rin - Really? You - What that song slaps harder than you can score a goal👆🏻(middle finger*) Rin - ...ok You - also ye, we're going to that mall if you're ok with that. I need new clothes... Rin - ok, let's go.

Never in his life would he have thought that you meant only the first fifteen minutes alone with him, because right after the fifteenth minute ended, Nagi and Reo rounded the corner and he was surrounded by other boys who were crushing on you. And it also helped even less when Bachira and Isagi came.

He started to hate Bachira when he saw how you and Bachira were dancing with each other the day prior. Rin never danced with you, even though he was your childhood friend and knew that you did ballroom dancing before you turned into a soccer protégé. However, he knew your clothing style best out of all the males around you.

He was your childhood friend, after all. So, he made it his mission to look at other stuff you'd like, and he stumbled upon the jacket section. He rememberd vaguely that you once mentioned of wanting to have a leather jacket because you liked biker dudes and wanted to impress them (he started taking motorcycle riding sessions), which is why he looked at the one which would suit you the best.

Nagi watched as you were checking out some shorts when he caught sight of a white one. "How about this?" "ew, I don't like white, Nagi."

Cue him looking at you with a hurt expression. "...what?"

You looked at him with a raised brow, confused to his reaction. Then it dawned to you.

nagi had white hair.

"NO! No Nagi, not like that! You have great hair!", you exclaimed and shook his shoulders, trying to convince him.

He still pouted as he averted his eyes. You could make out the blush on his cheeks though. you remembered how he sometimes turned red when he was angry. "hey....Nagi, you're not mad at me, right?", you asked softly, genuinly feeling bad now.

"'m not mad...", he spoke quietly before taking the white shorts. "I still want you to try them out though. I want you to have a white outfit. Please.", he pouted.

You sighed deeply before you nodded. "Alright...make me a pastel goth.", and he quickly went away to pick you light coloured clothes, with you deadpanning at him.

Reo shook his head in amusement before he got another pair of shorts. Isagi stood next to him, looking through some skull shirts. "They're pretty cool...!", the blue eyed boy gushed, holding one up in the air. You turned around.

"Mhm, that would suit you, actually...", you said, a finger on your chin in thought as you took a step back after you took the shirt from his hands and held it in front of his torso, getting an image of him wearing it. You were having a serious expression on your face as you frowned at him and the shirt.

"Yeah, along with some eyeliner and a few rings on your fingers and earrings, you'd make a good goth.", you said before handing him back the shirt. "try it on later, alright?", and with that last question, you went away with Reo following you. Isagi held the shirt close to him with a precious grin and blush at your words.

You let your eyes wander through the shop before you found what you wanted. Thigh highs with boots right next to it. Perfect.

You went to the aisle with determined steps, but a voice caught your ears. "Yena?", Ness' voice asked and you turned to the boy. "Oh Ness, hi."

(everyone forgot to put away the earpieces, so everyone could understand each other, but not that you needed earpieces because you could speak japanese and german.)

Ness blushed a little when he saw your street outfit. As it was getting rather warm at the moment, you simply decided for a gown with a long vest and converse shoes, your hair put in a high pony. You didn't really look like a goth at the moment, but you were shopping, so maybe he could see what you'd wear on any other day?

At Blue Lock, you also wore a uniform, and that pastel pink dress (once) or your pijamas.

"You guys shopping as well?", Bachira asked with a grin and a red cheeked Isagi followed before frowning at Kaiser, who also came.

"Yeah...thought we'd check out some stores...", Kaiser answered, having a stare-off with Isagi. You were gone to let the boys attend to their meet.

'Whoah...look at the pattern! And the boots are to die for!!!', you thought as you glared at the thigh highs and boots you fetched quickly. 'Okay, now only changing the clothes to see if they fit and quickly before Nagi-' "Okay, I have everything.", you heard Nagi's calm voice.

You huffed under your breath. you really didn't want to wear something light, but if it was for Nagi's sake...

"Okay, I'll change. Gimme."

...

"Yena, please come out now.", Nagi spoke loudly, with Kaiser and Ness sitting next to Reo, Nagi and Bachira. "Why are you guys still here??", Rin asked after he came back with the (in his eyes) perfect leather jacket for you.

He saw Ness and Kaiser talk to the others and got a vague idea on their personalities, and he especially kept an eye on Kaiser. However, he was also looking out for Ness, who fidgeted with his hands and also looked down at them nervously.

"U-Um there was a snack shop Yena's been mentioning, and there were...um..."

"Penis waffles!", you yelled, opening the curtains violently as you looked at Ness with an excited grin. His mouth stood open and trembled as the german looked at you with a flustered and red face. you had white clothes from head to toe, and some strands adorned your face which fell down when you put on the shirt and thin vest.

you wore a tight white top, a white vest which went down to your knees, and a pretty white shirt, along with white thigh highs and also white high heels. You were surprised how fast Nagi purchased these items. Wait, he bought them...

"Nagi, did you already buy them?! Ah- HEY, STOP TAKING PICS OF ME!!!", you yelled in embarassment as you threw your high heel at Nagi. He caught it and then he examined the shoe. "Your feet are very small."

"Do you have a foot fetish or what."

nagi stared at you. You just closed the curtains again and changed your clothes. time for the second set. the better one.

the gothic one.

Nagi stared at the shoe. Reo leaned back. "Nagi...that's too much, even for you.", the purple haired guy spoke softly, and Nagi whipped his head towards him. he had a slight frown, and his face was beet red.

"I don't...", he only said softly.

Reo didn't believe him. Isagi didn't believe him. Bachira didn't believe him. Ness didn't believe him. Kaiser didn't believe him. Rin didn't believe him.

"uh...can somebody come in and help me for a sec?", you spoke as you held the strings to your corset. it had a different way of getting closed, and you didn't want to tear the threads apart.

There was a short moment of silence before you heard shoes shuffle, some voices, grunting and cursing, saying "fuck off!" "I wanna do it!" "I'm her childhood friend, I should do it."

However, all their efforts to come to you came to waste when a taller frame -taller than Nagi- came to view. he was a muscular, handsome and mature looking man. he had fierce black locks which made him look all the more etheral looking, like a greek god, and he stood in front of your curtain. "Yena.", he said in a calm tone. no emotions, just your name.

you flinched before you opened the curtain excitedly. "Victor!? what are you doing here!?", you exclaimed before you pulled him inside. He took care of the corset, pulling together the strings as you babbled away happily, although in another language. However, since everyone still had earpieces on, they could hear every word inside the cabin.

that didn't mean that they were okay with you chatting with a stranger or random dude. Ness's eye twitched and he bit his lip, Kaiser only glared at the boy man who stepped inside the cabin, Reo stared in shock, Nagi frowned slightly, Isagi and Bachira pouted while Rin stared at the guy who dared to come in as well.

they were all jealous of the "Victor" guy. what did he have that they didn't? Sure, he was taller and more muscular than them all, and he actually wore a suit, his blazer/jacket in his hand. And now, he was pulling the strings.

Rin was angry. however, his anger dissipated when you opened the curtains again, and you wore your goth-outfit. The dark corset from earlier having tightened your waist and pushed up your boobs, the black shorts which made your thighs spill out, making Isagi gulp down his oncoming stream of saliva, the thigh highs you wore only spurring his thigh fetish on more and also the black platform boots you wore had that little something which made the guys swoon for you. also, your hair was more disshelved and open, and Victor seemed to have given you a pair of earrings, because instead of the usual black diamond studs, you wore earrings which had a spider dangling from a thin chain on either earstud.

Still, you looked hot and cool at the came time. everyone blushed. However, they all had sour faces when they saw Victor who smirked at them. "Yena, who's this guy actually?", asked Rin.

He was the closest, and glared at Victor. you just tapped Rin's peck. "oi, no glaring. it's Victor. he's my ex.", you said in a nonchalant tone, and Rin, as well as everyone else turned surprised.

"you...had an ex?", asked Reo. you had never mentioned you were dating anybody. Nagi stared at the taller guy. Rin gulped. he never heard of a Victor.

why was there suddenly a Victor?

Bachira and Isagi, as well as Ness and Kaiser were dumbfounded. looking at the reaction of Reo, Nagi and Rin, it seemed like you kept your relationship with the guy a secret.

Victor stepped forth, out of the cabin and turned to you.

"Yena, would you be amenable to a wardrobe alteration? Numerous establishments in this locale await your perusal, and I am eager to explore them with you.", he spoke in a gentle, sophisticated tone, and you nodded before you walked back and closed the curtains.

Victor now stood in front of the curtain as some sort of warrior.

"Allow me to introduce myself as Victor Manchester, who, for a duration of two years, occupied the role of Yena's significant other. Regrettably, I opted to terminate our association before her involvement with Blue Lock ensued.", he said in a monotone voice before his expression turned into a solemn smile.

"I find myself harboring a wish that circumstances had unfolded differently.", he said softly.

"...why did you break up with her then?", Kaiser asked, and everyone else was dying to know.

"I must admit to possessing a rather pronounced inclination towards jealousy, and the prospect of remaining in a relationship with her while observing her amidst the company of other gentlemen proved untenable for my sensibilities. The strain upon my heart would have been insurmountable.", he explained, and he also had a pained expression on his face.

"The divergence in my emotional landscape was negligible when she transitioned into a state of singularity, despite her proximity to you. If anything, witnessing her in the company of your collective presence served to exacerbate the anguish in my heart.", Victor muttered, a slight frown on his face before he closed his eyes and sighed.

Everything about him screamed Yena's type. A calm, smart, mysterious lover, who took care of his body. His most noticable trade-mark must've been his piercing icy-cold, light blue eyes. Victor Manchester was nothing if not perfect. the way he spoke in such a deep and soothing, as well as overly sophisticated tone, or how he raked a hand over his jetblack locks, the slight blush when he spoke about you...Victor was still smitten for you.

These past months must've been hell for him, Reo thought. He really had guts to break up with Yena and destroying his life like that. how could he even just--watch her interact with a few boys like that?

Victor suddenly spoke again.

"May I inquire whether the young gentleman with tangerine-hued hair, by the name of Kunigami, is presently in attendance?"

"uh, no, he is not presently in attendance.", Reo spoke, trying to sound as sophisticated as him. Victor sighed softly before he had on a small smile.

"My apologies for any confusion. As a recent entrant into this milieu, I've been privy to information about Rin, Sae, Nagi, and Reo from Yena. However, my understanding is incomplete, as I am yet to acquaint myself with the other gentlemen in our collective. I would be grateful if you could facilitate introductions to the remaining individuals, as Yena has only shared details about Reo, Nagi, Sae and Rin.", Victor spoke again, and Bachira looked at Isagi.

"did you get a word he said?", Bachira asked, but Isagi only shook his head.

Rin stepped forth this time.

"I am Rin Itoshi, a longstanding confidant from Yena's formative years. Intriguingly, she has never relayed any mention of a figure by the name of Victor Manchester in the course of our discussions.", he said, and the others were surprised by how well mannered Rin spoke.

He stared at Victor, and Victor felt Rin's aura. they seemed to have a stare-off now.

"Indeed, Yena and I, by mutual agreement, maintained a discreet stance regarding our relationship, influenced by my inherent shyness in the presence of unfamiliar faces. Despite this discretion, my sincere desire is to cultivate a deeper understanding of your collective camaraderie, as an assurance that those with whom Yena associates are individuals of admirable character."

Victor then smiled at Rin, who glared at him.

"I can assure you that I am Yena's most trusted friend, but what about you? tell us about yourself. where do you come from? what do you do at the moment? are you at high school or studying? I don't know a damn thing about you and it's giving me the creeps that she'd hang out with somebody I don't even know.", Rin answered, still having his glare set on Victor.

"I hail from Great Britain, currently enrolled in studies at Harvard. My portfolio includes the oversight of several thriving business ventures. A notable aspect of my preferences lies in a genuine affection for biscuits."

Rin narrowed his eyes at Victor, but before Rin could say anything else, you stepped out with the items. "okay, Let me buy them real quick, you guys can go and check out the other stores.", you muttered as you checked if you had everything you needed.

the boys, however, didn't budge. Ness, Kaiser, Isagi, Bachira, Reo, Nagi, Rin and Victor only looked at you. Victor and Rin were the first to take the clothes from you. Reo and Nagi, as well as Kaiser and Ness were the first ones to take out their wallets to pay. Isagi and Bachira just stood there dumbly, not knowing how to please you or confused as to what the others did.

...

"I can pay for myself, you know?", you grumbled as you sat there with your chocolate milk in your hands as you huffed. the four boys were having a big slight argument over who got to pay for you, and they decided to split up the bill.

Bachira and Isagi were seated before you, Rin and Ness on either side of you, and Kaiser next to Ness, with Victor sitting next to kaiser, and reo and nagi between Rin and Bachira. You guys were sitting at a big, round table.

Everyone bought a small thing for themselves, Isagi also bought the shirt you told him would look good on him with a smile and blush. Nagi was content that you didn't give away the white clothes. Victor was stealing glances at you with a blush as you were grumpy. Rin waited for the food. so you guys were all just basically scrolling on your phones and waiting for the food at a restaurant.

"Huh, and here I thought you dissappeared, Victor!", an utterly high pitched voice broke the pleasant silence. You freezed, frowned, and turned to Victor. He looked at you in horror before he turned around.

Rika Shinkamu.

the blonde bitch he slept with.

Victor cheated on you with this japanese pick-me girl. her body screamed Barbie, with blonde hair, blue eyes, a thin body, but it seemed like she went underneath the knife, because she looked like shit. flared up tits, BBL on her butt, and also syrenged lips.

somehow, her body looked unnatural. she looked weird.

"Oh? and if this isn't Yena Hideyo...! wait...did you leave me, your girlfriend, alone to spend time with that slut?!", Rika exclaimed and stomped on her high heel.

Victor glared at Rika. "You're not my girlfriend, stop being so delusional.", he said, and his sophisticated demeanor was gone, instead a cold shoulder apparent.

ness, Kaiser, Isagi and bachira and the others just sat there, cringing at the girl. You sighed and rubbed your temple. They all however, didn't let Rika's comment slide.

Rin's eye twitched when he heard Rika call you a slut, when Rika looked like one, and a real ugly one at that.

"Can somebody please knock out that whore?", Rin asked, but he only stared at Victor, as if silently demanding him to leave with Rika.

"Hah?! The fuck did'ya just say?!", Rika scoffed before she turned to you. "All I'm saying is that Victor fucked me instead of you, which means he likes me more, and you're the one who is surrounded by boys! So, you're a slut! And look at your body, small boobs, eyebags, and your hair is sooo uncharismatic!", she exclaimed in a sassy tone before she whipped her blonde hair back and looked you up and down.

Victor stood up abruptly. You huffed in amusement. "I'm not going to argue with a person who had to undergo surgery for her body to look like mine.", you stated, and Rika glared at you.

But, you were not finished. "also, these guys are my friends, and I wasn't a whore or slut before I settled down with Victor, unlike some pathetic and poor excuse of a woman.", you said, and looked back to your phone.

everyone was silent after that. It was true what you said though. Rika has been hopping from male to male before she 'settled down' at Victor. Victor himself stood up and sighed.

"I'm sorry for ruining your day, I will leave now.", he said before he quickly went away, with Rika following after him, telling him to wait with tears in her eyes, her high heels being too much for her to actually go after him.

"that was...cringe.", Kaiser spoke, and you all agreed. Reo and Nagi, as well as Rin looked at you with either betrayal, concern, or both.

"What was that girl's deal, anyways? Starting a fight with you all of a sudden?", Ness asked as he pouted. you just sipped some more on your chocolate milk before the waitress came and served you guys your food.

"Long story short, I've been dating Victor for two years, but he cheated on me because he didn't really like me, and the person he cheated on was that blonde Rika. it seemed like they broke up, but Rika is just---delulu delusional and thinks Victor still likes her? she should go and seek therapy.", you muttered before you bit into your food.

Bachira huffed. "that's still no reason of her to call you these insults." "but Yena told Rika off good!", Isagi exclaimed after Bachira's words, and everyone agreed and you smiled softly. "thanks, guys."

"she looked like a fricking character from those old movies where the women look so weird...", Reo spoke with a frown, and again, everyone agreed, and laughed as well.

Rin then looked at you before leaning down to whisper in your ear. "please don't let anything get to you, Yena. you're the prettiest girl in the world.", he said quietly, and you blushed a bit. "thank you, rin.", you said back softly with a smile.

RIn nodded before he kept eating.

...

after everyone was done, and Kaiser and Ness bid their goodbyes, Bachira and Isagi had to leave too after a while to hang out with the others, and it was now only you, Rin, Reo and Nagi.

They all froze in place when you walked into a pink shop, with pink and cute accesoires. they blinked before they looked at each other with panicked expressions.

"Did she just--" (Reo)

"huh-" (Nagi)

"Y-yena!?" (Rin)

Yeah, they were all concerned. All three boys walked in after you, very concerned looks. Rin and reo took either side of your shoulder and pulled you back.

"quick, let's get her to the hospital!"

"Dial 911!!!"

"guys...it's for Teieri.", you spoke up with a huff. Rin and Reo let go of you, and Nagi forgot about his mission to take you out of the cutecore store as he looked at cute keychains.

"...cute..", the albino haired boy muttered. Nagi was at the other end of the store as you three were in front of the entrance.

"oh, sorry.", Rin coughed with a blush and took a step back to give you some space.

"but it really scared us when you went into the shop.", Reo exclaimed softly and with an apologetic smile.

you just shook your head. "it's alright, really. now I really wanna buy something super cute for Teieri..."

"I'll help you!", Rin and Reo spoke at the same time a determined expression on their faces.

You looked at them for a moment. They haven't really bought a lot of stuff, and you shook your head. "c'mon guys, go buy yourselfves something."

Nagi then came with one of the super cute keychains. "is it okay if I have this keychain? it looks...cute...", he mumbled with a small blush as he looked down on it at his hand.

Reo and Rin snorted, and you did too. "Of course, Nagi."

Reo and rin then left the store, and Nagi kept browsing through the aisles. you hummed in thought as you looked at the variety of goods.

'hmm...what would Teieri like...? I think I'll get a...a sweet notebook...with a cute pen...maybe an adorable pencil case? Hm!...and a few t-shirts would be nice too for her...oh, some of them have flowers...huh, it's actually good...I think I'll get her an M size...because of her...ahem...chest...', you thought with a blush as you put many products into a shopping bag.

Nagi appeared again. "I think this one looks better...no, this one...maybe the first one...? uh..such a hassle...Yena, help.", he spoke in his monotone voice and pouted.

you looked at the keychains. one was black and the other one white. "would you like to have one? you don't have a keychain yet..."

"huh, you're right actually...okay, I'll have the black one. and I think I'm done buying stuff for Teieri.", you muttered as you looked at the full bag with cute stuff.

nagi nodded and took the bag from your grip. "what are you doing?" "Don't want you to carry it. it's heavy...a heavy hassle..."

You only rolled your eyes playfully before you pai- no. Nagi paid.

you only shook your head.

...

"wha....wha...!? Wha-!?!!", Teieri exclaimed when you were over at her room as some sort of girl's night and smirked proudly when she looked at the different items with an excited expression.

She fell in love with each thing you bought. Pens, pencils, pencil sharpener, sweet jewellery, clothes, hair pins, an adorable hairbrush, a few plushies, you bought it all. anri cooed at everything.

"waaaaa! Thank you, Yena!", she exclaimed happily before she hugged you tight. you grunted before you hugged her back softly. "It's the least I could do, Teieri."

she took all the shirts and went to her cabin. "I-I'll put it on and show you, okay!?", she yelled in excitement and you threw a thumbs up.

You were scrolling on your phone as she changed and raised your brow. 'a message from Ego...one month left at blue lock...oh...', you thought as you read through his message. so you could only go to france, england and italy, because currently, you were slowly finishing it with spain, and you were at bastard münchen already.

thirty days. ten days with each team. then you're gone...unless...?

Victor said he had some businesses, and some of them included football. 'wait...he wouldn't, would he?', you frowned, but your train of thoughts vanished when Teieri jumped out of her walkable wardrobe to show you the t-shirt you bought for her.

"what do you think!? Super cute, right?!", she exclaimed with a blush and a huge smile. you smiled back at her softly. "yes, super cute."

you liked the fact that even grown-ups felt safe enough to act childish around you, and you huffed in amusement when anri hopped back into the changing cabinet to put on another shirt.

today was a sweet girl's night.

...

"Nine months, huh?", Kunigami muttered after you answered his question on how you became so good at football, and you explained it to him in the same way you did to barou. you and Kunigami were sitting together in the cafeteria and were now on your way back to the halls. you two would have to say goodbye to each other soon.

"yep, but there were also other games I played, nine months, however, was my absolute fave.", you said calmly before you looked at him.

'damn he's so fucking hot...' "what did you do this weekend, actually?", you asked. you were a bit down when he had rejected your offer to go to the mall with him, as he was the first person you asked. (you wanted it to become a date.) he said no and you went with Reo, nagi and the others instead.

"I spent some time with my family...I...I hope you bought some nice stuff for yourself?", he asked in a shy tone and blushed when he thought back about you wearing that pink outfit.

"yeah, I did actually. it was really fun at saturday, I wish you came."

Kunigami averted his eyes with a red face now. "N-next time..."

You blushed more. "...promise?" You asked gently and softly. Kunigami blinked a few times, looking to the ground as he did so, and nodded only.

You were celebrating in your head as you smiled at him. "I'm already looking forward to it."

Suddenly, Victor came to view as he bid Ego farewell. you locked eyes with him, and he smiled. "Ye-", he stopped when he saw Kunigami. He stared at him.

Kunigami raised his brow.

You frowned at Victor, not really wanting to see him at the moment. "Come on, Kunigami, let's go somewhere else.", you muttered and walked into the other direction. Victor, however, wanted to talk to you.

"w-wait, Yena! Please, let us speak for a moment!", Victor said urgently, as he took his steps to your direction. you sighed before you looked at Kunigami. "could you leave us alone for a moment?"

Kunigami switched his gaze between you and the stranger, then he huffed. "sure..", he mumbled and left.

"I'm sorry that I took your time away from...him...", Victor muttered, as he glared at the orange haired wild card's retreating form.

"Is it about saturday?", you asked with a raised brow.

"Yes, I-I'm sorry about what happened...Rika...she stalks me...", he sighed. Sucks for him.

"is this the only reason?"

"No, I...I wanted to ask you if we could be together again."

you just looked at him with a blank face, before you laughed your ass off. "AHAAHAH...HAUhahahahahahahajdwjjah.." and you kept chuckling for a bit.

Victor looked at you awkwardly, and with a hurt expression.

"no.", you said, and turned around to leave.

And...well...Victor...he...

he made the mistake of touching you without your consent.

the moment you felt his "soft" grip on your wrist, you gave him a roundhouse kick to the cheek, and he got kicked to the side. you glared at him.

"how dare you touch me without my consent? how dare you come back again after we resolved this peacefully, ah!?", you seethed angrily, as you looked down at Victor who held his cheek, looking up at you in fear.

"I'm not going to be together with you again, ever. now get the hell outta here.", you growled, and walked away.

still, Victor was persistent. "L-look, I'm sorry Yena. I'm sorry for having had intercourse with Rika when I was together with you. I'm sorry for having taken you for granted. Please, just give me one more chance..!"

you only scoffed. "you think I want you after you were inside another woman? you think I want to get back to a guy who didn't want me at first? keep on dreamin', bitch."

and with that, you left. you weren't in the mood for that, even less considering getting back together with him. Victor didn't follow you this time. you were glad.

Kunigami was waiting around the corner, his eyes closed. you blushed. "god he's pretty..."

oop-

Kunigami opened his eyes as he looked at you and blushed. "thank y-you...", he muttered and looked to the side sheepishly.

you were frozen. 'did I...did I just say that out loud...I did...'

"ah- s-sorry, it just slipped out-" "I-it's okay, I enjoyed the compliment, really! Y-you're pretty too!"

you two looked to the ground with red faces, being complimented by each other, and giddy smiles.

[get a room for fuck's sake...]

"so...you will leave in a month...did I get it right?", kunigami spoke softly after a while, and you two leaned against opposite walls on the hallway.

"yeah...", you answered, feeling sad.

kunigami sighed before he stood straight and walked towards you. you looked up at him, confused as to why he was walking to you.

he was blushing. even his ears were red.

"Yena, I li-" "Yena! Yena come quick, you've gotta see that!", Oliver exclaimed, having appeared from nowhere.

liver would've pulled you by the wrist, but then he remembered how you were, and he also saw you beat that guy.

Oliver held a save distance from you.

you frowned. "why should I?"

"Otoya has made a cool ninja trick but ended up hurting his nuts, now come on!", oliver yelled with a mischievous, but also childlike grin. Kunigami was glaring at Oliver.

"heh, serves him right. Kunigami, what did you want to tell me though? you "li-"?", you asked as you looked up to him.

Oliver scowled.

Kunigami averted his eyes in embarassment. "ah..i-it's not that important."

Oliver smirked. "alright, let's go then!!"

'I thought he wanted to confess...how stupid of me...he must already have a girlfriend waiting for him..', you thought, and walked away with Oliver.

once you two rounded the corner, Kunigami slid down the wall, his head looking up, and he covered his eyes. "why did I chicken out...? was it because of Oliver...?....fuck..."

...

you were wheezing.

ringing for air.

otoya was laying on the side as he curled up in a fetus position, both his hands on his crotch.

"y--you...huhehuehheuheehueheue...y-you...oh go-ho-hoooood...!", you wheezed as you pointed around in his dorm. Karasu and Oliver were chuckling at Otoya, and Yukimiya was still training.

otoya had made the mistake of wanting to do a backflip on a chair, and hi nuts collided against it's back when he landed.

"that's what you get for being such a dumbass, moron."

"shut the...fuck...up, karasu...oww...", he whimpered.

something stirred inside you. ()

oh yeah.

you were crazy for whimpering boys. you looked down on Otoya.

"Otoya, let me help you.", you said in a serious tone. he looked up at you through teary eyes. "Really?", he mumbled softly.

you were an angel in his eyes right now. 'maybe she'll massage them...hehe..'

never in his life would Otoya have thought that you'd kick his nuts. He was moaning, and mewling in pain, and curled up even tighter. he was now crying and whimpering on the ground.

Karasu and Oliver laughed more.

"this is for the sauna incident.", you lied. you just wanted to hear more of his whimpers. he had a good whimpering noise.

you looked at Oliver and Karasu, and both stopped laughing, holding their crotches. "We're sorry" "We're very sorry", they said.

you walked out of the dorm with a satisfied hum.

Then you encountered Kurona, Kiyora, and Niko. the cutest boys of blue lock until now. you didn't meet anybody else yet. "hellyu."

"hello, Yena." "Hi." "..."

ah yes, Niko Ikki was the shyest of those three. so cute.

"is everything okay with you guys? are you about to train or.."

"train, train.", Kurona spoke. Kiyora looked at you, having a small blush on his cheeks. "please train with us...", and niko nods with a heavier blush.

'huhgewfjwifjiejiofjqiowjfijiwofjo THEY'RE SO CUTE WHAT THE FUCK THANK YOU GOD FEIFJJFIWJIFI', you thought with a blank face, and nodded. "sure, let's go."

They were decent and humble players. Kiyora jin put up a respectable match, kurona was a great teamplayer, and Niko was also great with his vision. they all were.

you praised the hell outta them.

---

jeowefowfowp sorry guys I'm such a simp lol

@meryqi, thought I should tag you, love :}

guys if you want another part please tell me, or more interactions ejifiwjfiejwifjwi

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sissy-princess-maddi-femme · 1 year ago

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Hi ladies! Sorry it took me so long to post this, but here it is, it's caption contest time! Just as a quick heads up, this is going to be a little different than other contests that I've seen in Tumblr cause I'm trying to kinda do my own thing and not copy others, but with that being said, feel free to give suggestions and everything as this gets going, I'm totes open to making things better however I can! Anyways, here are the big changes from what I've seen on Tumblr previously:

1.) Instead of everyone using the same pictures, I am going to post 30 cute/sexy photos after this for you all to choose from. Please also feel free to use any that you may have as well, if you want to participate, my pics are just for a jumping off point.

2.) As far as posting, feel free to post them on your own blogs obvi, but if you lovely creators are alright with it, I'd love to compile all of the amazing caps on my Tumblr with all of you cuties tagged so that there is an easy place to find them all. If you sweethearts are alright with this, just DM me your amazing works and I'll take care of the rest. (Again, feel 100% free to post on your own too, I don't want to step on any dainty feet there lol and if you want to only post on your own Tumblr just use the same tag on this post along with whatever else you'd like)

3.) Lastly, I'm hoping to continue to do this every so often (If there is enough interest obvi, so we'll see), but with that I think maintaining a theme will be important. So with this being a sissy blog, and it being close to Halloween 👻🎃 please keep it at least somewhat Halloween related if you can, as well as sissy related too. lol I won't turn anyone away if you don't, just sort of a suggestion.

4.) Oopsies, lol one more, I may write a few of my own, but to challenge myself a bit and have some fun with non captioners too, if any of you beautiful humans have ideas but you don't want to write the captions yourself, send them my way and I'll do my best to make your ideas a reality!

Sorry for the long post girls, but please feel free to reach out with any questions and again let me know if there is possibly any additions you sweethearts might think would be good! I think it would be fun to have all of these captions together and posted on Halloween for a little treat lol, so if you are going to send me ideas please try to send them to me before the 27th, and if you are going to make captions and send them to me to post please have them to me by the 30th! I hope you're all excited, and please, have fun! Sissy captions are fun and sexy so enjoy yourselves ladies!

-XOXO Maddi

#Maddi's Halloween Caption Contest

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yuttikkele · 1 year ago

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do you guys think the omegaverse exists for werebeasts in the monster high universe?

yes that’s a really funny statement, but I’m taking it seriously in this post, so BEFORE we go any further: STOP thinking about omegaverse as a fetish. STOP thinking about it as a sexual thing. ABO has such interesting potential, so before I say anything else, I need everyone to be on the same page that it does NOT always involve sex. This post is NSFW FREE!! YOU HEAR ME!!! Especially since they’re CHILDREN!!!!

ahem. Anyways

It makes sense. It would be an interesting concept and sort of an add-on to separate werecreatures from other animal-inspired monsters.

anyways I have a bunch of headcanons about it under the cut. these are specifically for G3, but take them however you like! also, there’s a huge text wall under the cut, just so you know.

Clawdeen is an alpha. In every universe. She’s specifically the born leader alpha. She’s humble and is all “no, no, I can’t lead it’s not my thing,” but she seriously fits the role of leader like a glove. She’s also subconsciously wants to have control over every little thing, but she consciously knows that’s not how things work. She’s one of the more aggressive alphas, though she doesn’t notice and won’t admit it to herself.

Clawd is a beta. He’s. Just a dude. And he’s quite good at it. He’s very good at calming people (namely Clawdeen), and generally very mellow. He’s protective of his sister, obvi. That’s like a mix of older brother syndrome and beta-will-watch-over-the-pack-itis.

Howleen is also a beta. Howleen is one of the more aggressive betas. She knows her time is coming when Grandpa Romulus will get too old, and she’ll be leader of the pack. She likes to fight for the formality of the title, but she actually doesn’t mind Romulus being the leader. She’s very comfortable with it!

Romulus is an omega. Yes, he’s an omega, and everyone (at least all the werebeasts) knows it. He’s the leader of the pack, and he takes pride in that title. He’s very insecure about being an omega, so that’s why he fights for any ounce of dominance he can get. This does cause him to be a nuisance, though. It’s not that he minds being an omega; he just doesn’t want others to treat him differently, which is fair. The tough show is just so people don’t automatically think he’s weak. He does need to realize that all of his friends believe him, though, so he can stop being such a self-protecting bonehead now.

Barkimedes is an alpha. Some people find it odd that the werewolf pack has its omega as the first in command, beta as the second in command, and its alpha last as third in command, but Barkimedes likes it this way! He’s never really been one to tell others what to do. Lots of people are surprised that he’s even an alpha because of how much he’s bossed around. Well, those people are wrong because Barkimedes is the alpha that ever alpha’d (whatever that means…)! Barkimedes is more of the protective type. If he senses his friends are in danger, he would do literally anything. He is REALLY overprotective of the pack, and they probably never notice it (Example: You just barely insulted Romulus and Howleen. They’re telling you off while Barkimedes stands behind them with the most menacing look on his face. Romulus and Howleen look back at Barkimedes, and suddenly his face is as sweet as an angel. They turn back to you, and he is growling at you again). If he sees you messing with something his hindmind considers “his” (like his friends, or maybe his slice of pizza), he’ll go feral on you. However, he’ll never use his alpha “powers” (such as his alpha voice) unless it’s an emergency. He’s just chill like that.

Toralei is a beta. I was debating saying she’s an omega, but beta just makes more sense in my mind. No one knows she’s a beta. Everyone thinks she’s an alpha. She acts and tries VERY hard to present as an alpha for the validation. Her mom, Catarina, is an alpha. As she is a terrible mother, Catarina is an elitist and also a sexist. Catarina thinks that betas are no better than “useless” omegas. Possibly even more useless than omegas since they don’t do “anything special.” She was very disappointed when she found out that Toralei was a beta, despite that not being something Toralei can control. Toralei will sometimes make fun of Romulus being an omega, and she will always feel bad immediately after. She does take medicine that she really shouldn’t take so that she can mask and smell like an alpha. Whenever the topic of second sex comes up, Toralei tries to back out of the conversation as soon as possible. She really needs to be comfortable in her own body and stop caring what her mom thinks.

Purrsephone and Meowlody are either betas or omegas. I don’t know which one they’d be, but they’re definitely not alphas.

Mouscedes is an omega. I don’t know much about mousedes, but from what I can tell, she’s pretty dependent on others. She’s not ashamed of it either. Whatever works, queen!

Teez I have no clue. We really don’t know much about him yet. I have no idea what he could be.

Frankie conveniently has a werecreature hindmind researcher brainbit, so they spout random facts sometimes and occasionally can help out (depending on what they can conveniently recall)!

A lot of the other monsters don’t actually realize that werebeasts have a second gender. Clawdeen didn’t know at all until the pack told her, and it explained a lot about her sudden aggressiveness.

The second gender is also a second sex. It’s basically just like us separating gender and sex. The werebeasts just have another pair!

Werebeasts can find out what their “assigned second gender” is at birth, but a lot of parents decide not to worry about it. 1. It’s way simpler to use one’s first set of gender/sex. 2. The rest of the monster world isn’t even gonna care about your second set.

The second gender reveals itself on its own right when puberty starts. It’s usually the first sign of puberty in werebeasts.

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rookfeatherrambles · 11 months ago

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i did promise.

I did promise a bit of the Jonelias Wip, didn't I? Here you go~ MAG 200 BUT JE. SPOILERS, OBVI (UNFORMATTED and just dumped from a google doc, be warned) Jonathan Sims hesitates. The knife is a terrible weight in his hand, the handle hot and sweaty in his palm.

*Where had he even gotten it?*

Some Slaughter domain, most likely. Just taken, with no thought how he would carry out his task. Driven by his anger, lit from within by the righteous fury of a man driven by revenge and revenge alone.

Jonah Magnus had hurt so many people. He deserved to die!

But here and now? Faced with the man himself, begging for Jon to reconsider, to *talk* to him, trying to reason with him... Jon hesitates.

Martin wouldn’t hesitate. Jon knows this. Martin, if he was here, would take his hand, and guide him forward, and together, they would plunge the knife into Jonah’s heart, and they would face entropy together, as well as whatever came after.

But that was why Martin wasn’t there. Because Jon knew he wouldn’t hesitate, and because Jon can’t do it.

He can’t look away from the fear in Jonah’s eyes, the man who ended the world full of the exact same terror and weakness he'd sacrificed everyone else to avoid. Jonah was cold, he was self-serving, he was horrible and awful and utterly human, and Jon hated him for it. Nothing made more sense to him now, than plunging the knife into his chest and finishing this, as he was always meant to. But Jon was just as human, if not more so. And Jon was also in love with him. He cannot hide it now, why he dragged his feet the entire journey to London, why he tried his best to avoid the subject of killing Elias every time Martin brought it up. How were they going to fix the world, anyway? Anyone could see it was broken beyond repair. And then, they’d gotten there, and Jonah had looked … he’d looked like a puppet, a vessel, and Jon was so overcome with feelings. He was envious, yes, even Martin could see that. But it hadn’t only been because he wanted to take Jonah’s place, no. Yes, He wanted that blissful ignorance, the cessation of shame he’d get only when he became The Great Watcher's Pupil. But most importantly, he’d felt…. Slighted. Not once had Jonah even registered they were there, though Jon knew he knew. Was he simply that unimportant? Just a tool, after all. Martin saw that too, which was why he left. They had a fight, and then everything fell apart after that. Annabelle Cane gave them another option, and Jon knew he had to go through with it. He couldn’t let Martin be the one to wield the knife, it had to be him, no matter the consequences that would come after. But here he is, the hour is now, and he is frozen.

His hands begin to shake, the sound magnified by the enormity of the space they’re in, and his breath quickens, his chest tight as the panic sets in, his throat closing. *I can't do this. Oh, god. I can't do it!*

The knife clatters to the floor and Jon covers his face with his hands as his eyes, all of them, tear up, and he breaks. "No, no, *no!*"

Jon is aware Jonah is staring at him, but he's lost in his grief, in his wretchedness, a coward. A failure. The world will suffer eternally until entropy consumes them all because Jon cannot take Jonah's life. Death is less than the man deserves, and he can't raise the knife.

Jon moans, shaking his head, his long hair falling into his face, and then his hands grip himself, a tight squeeze that does nothing except bruise his skin.

He doesn’t move when he hears Jonah’s hesitant steps coming closer over the stone floor, but when a pair of very real, very warm, very human arms wrap around him and Jon is pulled into a soft chest that smells of sandalwood and well pressed linen, he lets out a wounded noise and openly weeps, clinging to Jonah's fine shirt like he is drowning and soaking it with his tears.

Jonah holds him, and lets him cry it out, his free hand stroking against the back of Jon’s long, dark hair. It’s streaked with grey and silver, like starlight, and tangled, rough from not enough care and apocalypse grime.

He deserves a bath, Jonah thinks. When Jon is done crying, Jonah will run him a bath, little thanks for sparing his life, but he knows just how warm, pleasantly scented water can change a person's perspective. He will wash the journey from his Archivist’s skin, he will carefully brush the snarls from his hair. The image is so domestic and soft, Jonah is slightly taken aback by how much he wants it to be real.

Jon eventually quiets his sobs, and his voice is hoarse and hitched when he speaks. "I'm s-sorry..."

#the magnus archives #tma spoilers #jonelias #jonathan sims #elias bouchard #rook writes

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astroboots · 2 years ago

Note

Feel free not to respond to this, but I have a question as someone who is new(ish) to tumblr etiquette: when you post a story, do you as a writer like it more when someone reblogs (which should be a given action obvi) with or without adding tags? I thought about this bc godDAMN Cherry Lips is excellent and I immediately hit that reblog button, but I didn’t leave tags bc part of me worries about being intrusive, if that makes any sense? What are your thoughts on how you like people to interact with your work? Do you like comments? Dms? Reblogs with tags?

Sincerely,

Someone who is bad at tumblr but loves your writing

Hi lovely!

Firstly thank you for your kind comment on Cherry Lips!! You are an absolute sweetheart!! 😍 🥰

Second, this is a really good question! Tumblr etiquette can really differ from blogger to blogger. I personally think there is no wrong/right way to interact so long as you try to be kind and polite. Beyond that, I'm a proponent of just have fun with it!

My own experience with tags, is that I love them? It's such a fun and quirky tumblr function and I use them myself a lot. I know that some readers prefers reblogging with tags, cause that way it doesn't clog up their own dash. So please feel free to use them if you like using tags there is no wrong/right way. 💖

As a writer it means the world to me when I get feedback. There's something very special as a writer to read other people's view of how they felt when they read my words. Whether it's in the form of emojis, keyboard smash, tags, reblogs or comments, they're all very special to me. Likes are also special to me because it's an indication that someone took the time to read something I wrote (or that they're bookmarking it for a later read). It's a wonderful feeling as a writer to know that something I wrote resonated with someone else.

I am also very conscious that we all have different relationships not just with tumblr but with online social interaction in general. Some of us are more comfortable interacting with others, and some of us are shy. Sometimes, some of us are here to read because it's a place to get away from the stress of real life, and it's a solitary act and the last thing we want is to interact with someone else. All of these situations are valid and there's nothing wrong with that. I myself was a lurker reader for years because I was very shy about online interactions (I grew up with my mom warning me of stranger danger and telling me everyone online is a scam artist trying to catfish me 😆).

For these reasons, feel free to interact with my work/me in whatever way makes you feel most comfortable? I just hope you have a good time when you're here.

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emofrog69 · 2 years ago

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obvi i get why everyone hates brendon now but im so confused at all the posts about panic! saying “omg ryan ross is free now yasss he must be so happy” as if they arent best friends and ryan didnt willingly leave the band in fucking 2009 over 10 years ago due to a creativity difference in ryan wanting to contiue the beatles esque sound and brendon and spencer not wanting to do that and gave them permission to continue panic! without him while he formed his own band. i Love pretty odd and am perplexed when i see panic stans say its their least fav album and im even more perplexed seeing people claim to miss and love ryan sooo much but … dont even like pretty odd or listen to ryan’s solo stuff LMAO like i just dont get it sorry… if ur gonna claim ryan is better and he hates brendon or brendon stole panic or whatever else then at least support ryan like you claim to lol

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years ago

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Apologies if this has been asked for a prompt, but how about one where they discover the real origins of the curse (like how they do in the last one) but in 1978 so they’re able to save Tommy? Can we also pretend it’s early on so he doesn’t end up killing anybody A very dramatic yet happy ending as Cindy ends up living but obvi the reader and Tommy are together and they get their own 70s version of “burgers and the pixies” :)

Hello :)) I love this prompt and this is also technically a semi-sequel to "are you in there?" where basically they tie him up and Cindy and Alice do what they need to in order to break the curse :)

Pizza and Aerosmith (Tommy Slater x Reader)

Warnings: major character death, blood mention/described, axe violence mentioned, devil shit mentioned, cursing, betrayal, attempted violence, minor angst, kissing, not proof read sorry

Word Count: 4.9k

"Her body wasn't there!" Alice yelled, throwing down her trowel and her walkie talkie. They'd told you about ten minutes before that they were heading back to the cabin, and you'd expected them to be carrying a bag of bones in tow. You and Arnie's heads snapped to her and Cindy, and your mouth fell open for a minute as you tried to think of what to say. Of what to do.

That night, your boyfriend had been possessed. If it had been six hours ago, you wouldn't have believed it yourself. But, after the four of you had found his name carved into solid stone and he nearly went for an axe to chop up Arnie, it was hard to deny.

You'd dragged him to your cabin. You weren't supposed to be supervising color war, so there was no reason anyone should've come to get you. And, well, you couldn't exactly let your boyfriend near anyone. You'd had to tie him up and leave him on your bed, where he continuously squirmed and tried to harm pretty much anyone within a certain distance to him. That alone made you positive that this wasn't your Tommy.

"Well, what do you mean it wasn't there?" Arnie asked as he stood up. They were talking, explaining, too fast for you to catch up. The body was there. The body wasn't there.

"Maybe you dug in the wrong place." You said, trying to be hopeful, and Cindy proceeded to lift up a rock. Written on it was, The witch forever lives. Shit, alright. Maybe they didn't dig in the wrong place.

But, that left the four of you in a deep pile of shit. What were you supposed to do? How would you find Sarah Fiers body? It had been over three hundred years, and Nurse Lanes diary was about the only insight you had! You sat on the bed, ignoring Tommy's jerking and grunts. You reached out to place a hand on his arm as you stared at the wall across from you.

You'd promised him you'd get him free of this. That the four of you would do what you needed to in order to help him. Alice and Arnie had already suggested- You weren't even going to think about it. You didn't care if finding the body sounded impossible. You'd successfully found the hand, and not even Nurse Lane had been able to do that. You could all find her body too. You went over everything you knew of the curse in your mind, and interrupted whatever fight Alice and Cindy were having to say,

"The blood." And they both turned. You looked up, at the three of them. "The blood. Blood falls whenever Sarah Fier is near. We just have to walk around camp and wait-"

"Wait until one of us gets a nosebleed? Are you serious?" Alice interrupted, and Arnie was quick to join in.

"That could take all night!" Arnie said, and you gave each of them a look. It was better than their idea. And, even if Arnie and Alice did seem particularly cynical about everything, for a second- Just for a second you'd seen how much they wanted to end this. For Tommy, for Shadyside. And there was really only one way to make this go faster.

"It wouldn't if you had more help."

***

At first, they'd thought just you and Arnie, but your plan stretched farther than that. It was why Joan, Gary, Ziggy, and, to all of your surprise, Nick Goode, stood in your cabin, staring at the tied up form of your boyfriend.

"Y'know, when Joan and I were talking about the curse earlier, we were just messing with you guys." Gary said, and part of your stomach sank when Joan agreed with,

"Yeah, this is way trippy." You knew it was going to be hard to convince them. You knew it was a long shot in total darkness but what else could you do?

"We know this sounds crazy," Cindy started, and you were happy she was the one taking over. Out of all of you, she was the one that would never play a prank like this. And if she believed it- Well. "We can even show you what we found, but we have to do it quick. Tommy- From what we know, he doesn't have a lot of time and-"

"I believe you." Nick interrupted, and you watched as Ziggy was quick to turn to him.

"What?" She quickly asked, an incredulous look on her face. And, while the sisters were as different as could be, you could see the resemblance between them when it came to their skepticism. Nick looked at her, even reached out to place a hand on her arm.

"Look at him, Ziggy. That's- That's Tommy Slater. He couldn't even kill the rat they found in the kitchen earlier in the month and now he's-" He glanced over at him just as Tommy let out a particularly hard thrash, and you tried to calm him. You shushed him, pushing his hair out of his face. His forehead was sweaty from all his exertion, his arms straining against the rope. Having more people in the room seemed to aggravate him more, and you watched as his teeth bit the gag in his mouth. "And Nurse Lane attacking him? Really, is it so hard to believe that it's all connected? That it's all..." He didn't need to finish for you to know where he was going, but he did anyways. "Sarah Fier?" For a moment, you nearly swore that you wanted to hug the kid. You glanced back over, watching as Ziggy looked between you and Tommy.

You'd never been close to her. Sure, you were friends with her sister, but, from what you'd heard from Cindy, they were hardly close either. But, you gave her a tilt of your head and you watched as she let out a small sigh and a roll of her eyes.

"What do you even need us to do?"

***

Cindy and Alice were going to take them to see what they'd found, to convince those that still needed an extra push, and then go find the body of Sarah Fier. You'd explained to them that at least two people needed to watch Tommy at all times, and that's when Nick Goode surprised you again.

"I can stay with him." He offered, and you'd given him a confused look. You and Arnie quickly shared a glance. The two of you had been watching Tommy all night, had an unspoken bond, a similar one to the one Cindy and Alice were building, already. "Arnie can go with his girlfriend and I can stay here." And you didn't miss the glance he sent towards Cindy. She'd been glaring at him the second he seemed just a little too familiar with her sister. You supposed he didn't want to spend the rest of the night caught in her group, and, well, part of you couldn't blame him. Especially when she quickly agreed. While the groups got ready to part ways, Arnie quietly asked you,

"You okay with this?" And you bit your lip for a moment. You should be. The Nick kid, while you didn't know him well, was always the nicest out of the Sunnyvale counselors. And, well, he was the only one that actually believed you. Completely believed you. And you knew that if you were in Arnie's shoes, you'd want to tag along with Alice. Really, you couldn't think of a reason to say no. So, why did you have a pit in your stomach?

"Yeah, sure. Just- Get this over with quick, okay?" You asked him, and he gave you a nod and a smile. He held out his hand for a fist bump, and you gave him one. Last second, you handed him the second walkie talkie that you'd given to Alice before, and quietly told him, "Keep it on, okay?" And, while his eyes had been confused, he'd given you a nod.

You'd been trying to conserve the batteries all night, but, with the pit in your stomach, you didn't want to take any chances.

***

Cindy, Alice, and Arnie took the others to see the room they'd found. That alone was enough proof the show that they weren't fucking around. That this wasn't some sort of sick prank. Though, as they walked out of the room, Ziggy still had questions,

"Well, yeah- I get this being a curse and all, but who lit the candle? Who wrote his name?" And Joan was quick to add,

"Yeah, like, you guys were with Tommy all day so it's not like he wrote himself." And the three of them paused. They'd been so caught up in trying to break the curse, in trying to save Tommy, that they hadn't really thought about who'd doomed him in the first place.

"This is so weird. And why Tommy? Tommys- Tommy. Why would someone choose him?" Gary asked, and the three of them were stumped. Tommy wasn't a jerk that made enemies with a lot of people. He was nice to everyone, even those that weren't nice to him. And why would they choose a camp counselor? Didn't they know that he'd be surrounded by children?

"I- We don't know." Cindy said, and the six of them walked through the little storage room. Cindy shined her flashlight in front of her as she thought, wondering just who would choose Tommy Slater to be the next Shadyside Killer. Cindy couldn't stop thinking about it even as they broke off in pairs and started looking for the body.

As she walked with her sister, she glanced over at Arnie and Alice, who were heading a different direction. She watched as he played with the walkie talkie in his hands, and, for a moment, she had a small sinking feeling in her chest before she pushed on.

***

At least with Arnie, you kind of knew what to talk to him about. You were at least sort of friends, since both of you were Shadyside counselors. You could talk about how stupid color war was, about the places back in town. Arnie had even asked you a few questions about Tommy, which you'd been happy to answer.

But Nick? You'd thanked him for staying, and then the pair of you sat in silence as you tried to keep Tommy calm. Gently, you pat him with a wet washcloth to try to cool down his fever. You tried not to think about what Nurse Lane had said as you did. One way or another, you're gonna die tonight. You wondered what would happen if he continued to resist the curse, and your heart tightened at the idea. You shook your head. You weren't going to let that happen. The others had been gone for awhile, almost two hours, so they were due to check back sooner rather than later. Hopefully, one of the groups would have good news. You ran the wash cloth over his cheeks as you said,

"After this, we're gonna get pizza and listen to Aerosmith all night. Watch a few movies, maybe. You like the sound of that?" You asked, even if he couldn't respond. Even if the only thing he sent you was a nasty glare. With a sigh, you wished for the moments where he'd look at you like you put the sun in the sky.

You turned around when you heard something fall, and you stared in confusion as you watched Nick reach for Tommy's bat. He'd left it here once, and you'd put the axe he'd gotten from that room right besides it. You stood when you watched him grip it.

"Nick?" You asked, and you watched as he turned around. He had a smile on his face, the same charming smile he'd given Ziggy, but the pit in your stomach returned. You glanced down at the bat, just as he started to explain,

"Oh, y'know- In case, he gets free." He said, and you glanced down at the way he was holding it again. The way his hands changed grip. You didn't like what he was implying, first of all. You didn't want to hurt Tommy, you wanted to help him. That was the point of all this. You'd lived in Shadyside all your life, and maybe that gave you a better bullshit detector than most. Or, maybe, part of you had become so used to things going to shit that now you could smell it. Quietly, you said,

"He won't get free." And you shuffled your feet. You stood in front of him almost defensively, but, part of you didn't think it was Tommy you needed to protect. He gave you a smile and a shrug, and then you glanced over at the walkie talkie you'd put on your desk. The second you did, the second your eyes left him, Nick moved. You didn't know what was happening, not truly, but you knew that it was bad. You snatched the walkie talkie and ducked out of the way of his swing. You turned it on as you hauled ass to the bathroom, side-stepping him as he tried to grab you, and slammed your back against the bathroom door to keep it shut as you fumbled with the lock. You heard him banging on the door, heard the knob moving as he tried to get it open, and then he stopped. It sent a chill up your spine to hear silence on the other side. Finally, you pulled up the antenna, pressed the button, and yelled into the walkie talkie,

***

"Code red! Code red!" Came screaming out in your voice from the walkie talkie so loud that Arnie swore he almost jumped a mile. He was quick to answer with a shout of your name, and a,

"What's going on? What's wrong?" And Alice backtracked from where she walked in front. They could hear the panic in your voice as you yelled back,

"Arnie! Thank god! Come back to the cabin right now it's-" And the line went dead. You must've taken your hand off of the button, and the silence sent a chill up both of their backs. The only thing they could hear was the sound of crickets and wind. They hadn't even stumbled across a camper yet, and the woods felt empty and ready to swallow the pair of them.

Alice and Arnie stared at eachother for a moment. They'd been walking aimlessly, the maps Cindy had made up in their hands. A second of unspoken words passed between them, and then they were both sprinting back towards your cabin.

***

When Ziggy stepped on the red moss, she made a noise of disgust and lifted her foot. It has stained her shoes, and she quickly asked,

"Ugh, what is this stuff?" And Cindy looked up from her map. She'd carefully given each pair a third of the camp to search over. With two people to comb through each section, they should've been able to find it at least within the night. They were supposed to check back She looked around at the red moss, recognizing it as the same moss from the outhouse. From the caves under the outhouse. She glanced around, looking where it grew.

"Holy shit." She said, and quickly walked towards the rock. She looked around, and her sister arched a brow at her. In disbelief, she asked,

"Did you just swear?" And Cindy quickly waved her off. She was spinning around, quickly stepping through the moss with a big smile on her face. She probably looked insane, but Cindy didn't care. They'd needed another sign, another thing to look for. She felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner.

"The moss!" But Ziggy gave a small shake of her head. She didn't understand. Cindy pulled the hand out of her bag and held it up. She pointed at it as she said, "We found this in the red moss. This," She said pointing around. "Might be apart of the curse!" And Ziggy's eyes widened in understanding. Quickly, she echoed,

"Holy shit!" And the pair of them were quick to start looking. It only took a second for them to each get on their knees and start searching through the moss. It only took a few minutes for Ziggy to feel warmth dripping down out of her nose, and she swore she'd never been so happy to get a nosebleed ever in her life. Quickly, she called, "Over here!" And Cindy scrambled over. They started searching through the spot, and when they finally dusted the dirt off to find a ribcage, they were both so happy they could nearly scream. They cleaned it off further, completely unearthing the body of Sarah Fier. And, finally, Cindy held the hand in both of hers and gave Ziggy a look. This was it. Ziggy reached out, and together they out the hand back with the rest of Sarah Fier.

***

Arnie practically ripped your screen door off it's hinges as they ran into your cabin. He wasn't thinking clearly, wasn't thinking about what he was doing. All he knew was that you sounded like you were in trouble and now-

He ran into Nick. The brunette grabbed him by the arms, and looked scared out of his wits. The words were leaving his lips so fast that Arnie almost didn't have time to process.

"I thought I heard something outside so I went- I went to see if it was one of you and then I heard screaming and now-" And Arnie cut him off.

"Where's Tommy? Where's y/n?" He demanded, and Alice was right behind him now. She gasped when she saw the mess of the bathroom door. It had been axed nearly in half, before being pushed open. She was quick to run towards it, and Arnie pushed Nick away from him to the same. There was a mess of wood over the floor, but there was no blood. And, when they spotted the open window, a glimmer of hope went through both of them.

You were resourceful and smart. Of course you'd gone through the window. It dimmed a bit however when they saw the broken walkie talkie. Alice picked it up. The antenna was barely hanging off of it and the body looked crushed, stomped on. Getting in contact with you was now near impossible, but they had hope that you were still out there. Arnie turned back to watch as Nick paced, seeming to lose his mind over what had happened. He looked like a ball of nerves, and Arnie could understand why. He'd been gone for one minute and everything had gone to shit. Though, as Arnie looked back at Alice, he saw something there. She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, and Arnie wasn't surprised when she asked,

"Did you look for them? Do you know what direction they went?" And, when Nick shook his head, his story started to make a little less sense. The pair of them shared a look, and they had a brief moment of silent communication. How did Nick come back when he heard screaming and not see where Tommy went? Axing down a door didn't take a matter of seconds, it took minutes. And you sure as hell wouldn't have started screaming just before Tommy got the door open. So, the real question was, how did Nick miss you? The couple glanced over at Nick, but didn't say a word. Instead, Arnie asked him,

"So what do we do?" And they were relieved that at least his first idea was to get all the campers out of there.

***

Your thighs burned as you hid. Outrunning Tommy simply wasn't an option, but your mind was on hyperdrive as you tried to process the last five minutes of your life. Nick Goode was a dick. Whatever he'd been trying to achieve, it had ended up with Tommy getting loose. You thought maybe he was going to do what Alice had suggested at the very beginning of the night. Take care of Tommy to make sure no one else got hurt. Instead, now, you were trying to keep yourself from getting axed by your very own boyfriend. Not to mention, you were trying to keep him away from the direction of the kids. Sure, yes, you were hiding and running from him. But, you were also making sure that you were the one he stayed in pursuit of. It was a fragile balance, and you glanced around before you stood up to find a new hiding place.

You nearly screamed when you ran into someone, but you quickly ripped Ziggy and Cindy down behind a bush. The words left your mouth in a quick whisper as you started,

"Guys, I have so much to tell you. Nick Goode-" But Ziggy was finishing your sentence.

"Is a total douche." Her voice was laced with venom, and she sounded pissed. Betrayed, even. And you gave them each a confused look. You looked between them and asked,

"You know?" Your surprise was laced in your voice. How did they know? How could they know? But, Cindy was quick to explain.

"When we put the hand back with her body, we saw the truth."

"We saw everything." Ziggy added, and you looked back to Cindy when she continued,

"The Goode family is the reason for the curse. They made a deal with the devil, so Sunnyvale could prosper and they've been feeding him Shadyside blood!" And you stared at them. Really, hours ago, you would've thought they were both on drugs. But now? After watching your boyfriend get possessed, finding a creepy bone hand, and getting almost fed to your possessed boyfriend by the Sheriff's son? You'd believe Santa was real.

"Nick Goode just completely fucked everything up, and now Tommy's loose." You whispered, and their eyes widened. The three of you looked between eachother, and then around. You couldn't see anything in the dark, but you felt like an ant trapped under a magnifying glass as Ziggy whispered what you were all thinking,

"Shit." And you gave her a nod. Now that you were thinking about it, you had no idea if Nick even knew. He'd tried to kill your boyfriend to save everyone, and it turns out his family was the reason for the curse? God, how the hell were you going to explain that? You gripped each of them as Cindy continued again,

"But that's not the worst of it." She said, and you gave her a confused look. What could be worse than all of this? Nothing could've prepared you for the words she said. "Nick Goode picked Tommy. He's the reason Tommy's possessed." And you felt white hot anger replace every ounce of your fear.

***

When Arnie and Alice watched Ruby Lane climb out of the grate in the middle of the kitchen, more of a black sludge becoming the figure of the dead serial killer, they thought tonight couldn't have gotten any weirder. The only way to make it worse was that Nick had run out of the room, and Arnie had to knock his shoulder against the door to stop him from locking it behind him. They had already guessed that he was a back-stabbing little bitch, especially when they had to force him to stay to wait for the rest of you instead of getting on the bus with the campers, but this? Oh, they were going to kill him if they got out of this alive.

When she started to walk towards them, they were quick to head towards the door, only to watch as you, Cindy, and Ziggy ran inside. And guess who was only a few feet behind you? Tommy.

"Shit!" Alice said as they slammed the door closed, and they quickly did their best to stop him from pushing it open and getting inside. But, to their surprise, they watched as you practically snarled,

"You." At the brunette. You ran, tackling him to the ground before he could try to escape. Even if the crazy bitch from the sixties was quick to come out of the kitchen and you had to roll off of him before she slashed you with a razor. You dodged the milkman as Nick tried to run, as the killers quickly turned on Ziggy and Cindy. You knew, to some degree, you were the best person, one of the only people, that could go after him. You'd seen it when you ran from Tommy. He'd specifically tried to go after them, completely ignoring a prime opportunity to swing at you when you tripped on the way over. Because of whatever the Berman's had seen, it was like they had a target on their back. And you had a pretty good idea as to how you were supposed to end all of it.

"Watch out!" Ziggy yelled as you tried to get away from who you quickly realized was Ruby Lane, and as a man in a jumpsuit with a knife tried to slash Cindy. Cindy threw you her shovel, even as she dodged and ran from the man. She yelled,

"Don't let him get away!" And you knew what you had to do. You ran after him, seeing that he was climbing down into the hole below. He looked up just as you went to swing, and, you watched him panic. You watched as he lost whatever grip he had, as he fell into the hole rather than climbed down. You were about to climb down after him, about to make sure this was finished. Instead, you heard- a laugh?

You and the rest of your friends stood above the hole in the kitchen, staring down at it. The killers had disappeared, gone in a poof. The kids were safe on the bus, already heading back to town. And Nick Goode was dead. When he fell, he must've hit his head. Broken his neck. It was a quick death, one that could've happened to anyone. If anything, it could be labelled an accident.

"Should we check?" Alice asked, and the five of you looked between eachother, and then down at the hole. It was tempting. To see the body of the man that had done something so evil lay lifeless. It was Cindy that answered her.

"Nah, just let him rot down there." And, ultimately, you agreed. Arnie reached to close the grate, sliding it in place. The five of you nearly jumped out of your skin when Gary and Joan barged in the kitchen door, and paused when they saw you all standing around it.

"Why's Tommy knocked out outside?" Gary said, pointing with his thumb, and you gave him a smile as the others started to laugh out of relief.

***

You and Tommy sat on the rock in the middle of the woods. It was the one Cindy had labelled on your map. You'd gotten a large pie of pizza, and his little radio was blasting Aerosmith as you enjoyed the summer afternoon.

The camp had closed, and the News ran with the story. An axe murderer had wandered onto the camp grounds of Camp Nightwing, but, due to the heroism of it's counselors, not a single camper had been hurt. Tommy Slater, in particular, was famed for having distracted and fought the killer long enough to let the campers escape, to the point where certain counselors had at first thought he was to blame. And, when the police asked the only eye-witnesses to the crime, all of them had said one name.

Nick Goode.

It wasn't until a week later that anyone had found the body of Nick Goode in the caves, and the police hadn't known what to make of the discovery. With eight eye-witnesses and a cave full of occult shit, it was hard to cover up or deny. So, now, the News circled with the story of Nick Goode, the first Sunnyvale Killer.

Tommy handed you a bag of fries as the pair of you ate, and you smiled as you looked over at him. In the sunlight, the copper in his hair shined and his eyes practically glowed. The look in his eyes had returned, the one that he gave you. The one where he looked at you like you put the sun in the sky.

"So, this is her, huh?" Tommy said, pointing with his foot at the red moss. You nodded, taking another bite.

"Yeah, she saved us." You said, a small smile on your face. You wanted to visit for that exact reason. To silently tell her thanks, and to meet the girl that saved your lives. Tommy knocked his shoulder against yours, and you looked up at him.

"No," He said with a small shake of his head. "You saved me. You never gave up on me." He said, and your eyes softened. You looked at him, leaning in as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I heard you, y'know. Fighting for me. And I'm sorry I-"

"No, don't apologize." You told him quickly, reaching out to hold his hand. "That wasn't you." You told him, and you watched how the words made him tilt his head. How they soothed whatever ache he still had in him. Whatever regrets. You knew he was hard on himself, that part of him probably blamed himself for giving in. For what he could've done. Softly, you added, "Did you hear all the times I told you I loved you?" And you watched how he smiled, how the clouds of his regret seemed to fade. He gave you a small nod, and you smiled back. He leaned in to kiss you, and you met him halfway.

#fear street tommy slater #tommy slater fear street #fear street tommy #tommy fear street #fear street #fear street 1978 #tommy slater #tommy slater x reader #thomas slater x reader #thomas slater

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sk3tch404 · 3 years ago

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UPDATED RULES 💜

BEFORE REQUESTING: Please do just know this blog is my hobby more than anything else! I love interaction of here, but I hate feeling overwhelmed. That's why with requests, I see them more as fun suggestions. Not to say I don't value everyone's time or ideas, I personally don't want to pressure myself with work at the cost of my own happiness! Thank you for understanding. :)

JUST A GENERAL RULE FOR ALL MEDIA: Please know that I am only into darker and more logical themes rather than fantastical ones. While i do enjoy your wild imaginations, I don't find myself interested with things such as, "Reader has so and so supernatural ability." Or, "Reader is from a desolate and faraway place." I personally dislike having reader be so mysteriously whimsical and having physical mysterious powers or attributes. Same goes for characters. No hate or shade to any of yall! This is just my preference. I've just have never been into themes that stray off of canon or realistic storylines! Rather, don't be scared to send in an ask that deals with darker subjects! It's my favorite!!

I do drawing and writing requests! Please specify if which of the two you'd like if you request :) Also, I only do character x reader! Commissions can be character x character.

RED indicates the fandoms I'm most willing to do atm!

DNI List: Inc3st enjoyers, Proshippers, racists, transphobes, homophobes, and people who age up minor characters for lewd purposes ESPECIALLY. Tbh just 😟😟 people

Y/n will always stay gender neutral until requested otherwise

THINGS I WILL ACCEPT:

Remember, as long as you keep these rules in mind, feel absolutely free to send in whatever kind of ask you'd like! It can be tame or very dark, your choice!!

Noncon Touch (No nsfw)

Yandere!!

Suggestive actions (Again, no explicit nsfw)

Heavy subjects (mental health, grief, and such)

Violence (Dont be afriad to express your ideas, but just keep in mind, no EXTREME gore or things like that)

Poly relationships (no more than 2 characters requested)

THINGS I WILL NOT ACCEPT

Extreme g0re or extreme domestic abu$e (violence against reader is fine. I just hate yans beating their darlings 💔)

Any form of incest

Adult x minor

Non human x Y/n (Exceptions can be made if the character has human traits and human behaviors, an example could be Luchino from Idenity V)

Smut/nsfw

Kinks like Scat, p!ss, daddy kink, ddlg, etc. (feel free to indulge in other depraved subjects, just nothing of that sort explicitly!! Also I hate fics that deal with like... Ped0 coded stuff, so yeah.)

Skins/costumes (sometimes they have back stories/origins and I like sticking to the original/staying as canon as possible)

Hybrid/furry reader or character (Sorry, I dont really know how to do those kinds of scenarios. I don't really enjoy treating characters as other than human most of the time)

Broken/emotionless Y/n ( I just feel like theres no thrill or emotion to be held in a situation like that. It's lil obvi on my part lol)

FANDOMS I'M INTERESTED IN:

Identity V

Demon Slayer

Jujutsu Kaisen

Hunter X Hunter

Tokyo Revengers

Genshin Impact

All Saints Street

Record of Ragnarok

Arcane

Metal Family

Psycho Cuties

Jojo's Bizzare Adventure

CHARACTERS I WILL DO

Demon slayer: Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Rengoku, Tengen, Mitsuri, Douma, Kokushibo, Genya, Sanemi, Obanai, Giyuu, Hantengu clones, and Akaza

Identity V: Naib, Eli, Aseop, Norton, Mike, Victor, Andrew, Edgar, Ganji, Joseph, Wu chang, Jack, and Antonio

Jujutsu Kaisen: Yuuji, Megumi, Gojo, Miwa, Geto, Hanami, and Nanami

Hunter X Hunter: Kurapika, Chrollo, Phinks, Nobunaga, Uvogin, Shalnark, Feitan, Pakunoda, Machi, and Illumi

Tokyo Revengers (All timelines): Takemichi, Chifuyu, Baji, Smiley, Angry, Mitsuya, Hakkai, Sanzu, Kazutora, Taiju, Shion, Hanma, Kakucho, Kokonoi, the Haitanis, Takeomi, Mikey, Izana, Draken and inui

Genshin Impact: Kayea, Diluc, Childe, Itto, Xingqiu, Zhongli, Tighnari, Cyno, Alhaitham, Pantalone, Capitano, and Dottore

All Saints Street: Ira, Nini/Neil, Damao, and that angel dude

Record of Ragnarok: Buddah, Shiva, Loki, Thor, and Hermes

Arcane: Silco, Jayce, and Viktor

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure (Parts 1-6) : Jotaro, Kakyion, Young Joseph, Josuke, Rohan, Terunosuke Miyamoto, Yoshikage Kira, Giorno, Bruno, Abbachio, Narancia, Fugo, Mista, Risotto, Melone, Ghiaccio, Proscuttio, Diavolo, Doppio, Weather Report, and Anasui

Metal Family: Glam/Sebastian, Ches. Dee, and Heavy

Psycho Cuties : Doctor Masacrik

I ask you to be respectful and understanding when discussing things with me or when sending in requests. If I seem to delete your ask by free will and decision, acknowledge that it was my right to do so as a content creator and as a person. You will be blocked or reported if you are continuously rude or are behaving in a inappropriate way (Sending in comments or ideas that contain a bit of thirsting is fine, just be appropriate and mindful!) All I want is for everyone to have a good time with my works. Thank you so much.

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softxsuki · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! Welcome to the Jujutsu Kaisen fandom! ☺️✨ May I request headcanons for Sukuna and Nanami with an asexual reader? :3

Sukuna and Nanami (Seperate) with Asexual Reader

Pairings: Sukuna x Gn!Reader, Nanami x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex (no actual sex obvi), kinda suggestive language FNJEANJF, uhh I think that’s it idk, let me know if I need to put something else here lol

Genre: ??? I honestly don’t know, kinda fluff? no idea

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 490

Summary: How Sukuna and Nanami would react to you being asexual

[A/N: Thank you for the warm welcome and for my very first JJK request anon! Ok so, I did some research on what it means to be asexual, because I have a general idea, but I wanted to make sure I had the specifics right. From what I found, it’s different for everyone; some people can even do physical touch, and others can do some forms of sexual pleasure and even the actual act of sex (based on what I read). BUT PLEASE, if I have done a horrible job of writing about it and if this offends anyone who is asexual, please let me know. Educate me so I can change whatever needs to be changed! With that being said, this is my first post about JJK, so you reading this, yes YOU, if you’d like to see more of JJK on my blog, then feel free to send in more requests! I only have one other request for JJK, so send as many as you’d like :D. I hope you enjoy! (sorry it’s not that long :3)]

Sukuna:

When he finds out you’re asexual, I think he would feel frustrated at first

I just feel like he’s very handsy and possessive and exudes high “sexual energy” if that makes sense

So when he first tries to jump the gun and progress things a little, he notices your apprehension

“What? You don’t want this?” he’d ask

You felt nervous telling him, knowing that he’d react like this, but once you explain things to him a little, I think he’d be more understanding (only for you though because man’s doesn’t have a soft spot for anyone BUT you)

He’d get a little distant at first, because hi, yes, you’re the person he loves and mans can get a little heated and out of control around you

He doesn’t want to scare you away and accidentally do something that would make you uncomfortable

Sit him down and explain to him every little detail of what being asexual means and tell him what’s okay and what’s not okay

Is kissing okay? Can he touch you? Can he hold your hand? Just tell him where to draw the line

He will 100% respect you and will find a ton of other ways to show his affections for you :)

After a while he’ll get used to it, and being the King of Curses, he’d find pleasure in making you happy without needing to have sex with you

He takes it as a challenge and will continue to find new ways, that you’re comfortable with, to show that he loves you

Nanami:

I’ve seen it traveling around that some think that Nanami is asexual, and I honestly can see it despite how sexualized he is in the fandom

He has no problem as all with you being asexual, since he see’s no need in showing his love for you in the sheets

Unlike Sukuna who distances himself, Nanami just continues to act as he’s always been acting

He’s never had the unnerving desire to jump your bones, and would probably be fine with never having sex as long as you are happy and comfortable

Literally all he cares about is your comfort

If he ever initiates too much physical contact that makes you pull away, he wouldn’t even bat an eye; he’d just make a mental note of it and never do it again unless you initiate it first

He’s forever learning more about what you like and don’t like, and makes mental notes of it all, adjusting things to fit your needs and desires

This is so random, but he’d knock out anyone that made you feel uncomfortable or pressured about sleeping with him

“You guys haven’t slept together ye-” BANG, irrelevant person bonked on the head as he moves on somewhere else with you

He honestly just enjoys spending time with you, so it doesn’t matter what the two of you do together, he loves you and he knows you love him too :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D (send some in, I’m low on jjk requests)

Posted: 8/25/2021

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whosjunglejim4322 · 4 years ago

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Umbra | J. Seo (m)

》 Genre: vampire au! Smut, fluff, minor angst and mentions of violence, This story also features Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Mark as his coven members

》 Warnings: spitting, dry humping, mentions of blood obvi, mentions of feeding, strong boy trying not to fuck you into oblivion, his eyes get black he's when he's hungry/horny, disgusting amount of fluff, omg sorta strength kink? Johnny is very in love w you and very protective cause some of his brothers are out of pocket, Jungwoo wants to b ur bestie lowkey, Yuta is a lil shit

Chapter 2

There are many things that Johnny loves about you. He could spend all his time showering you with professions of his adoration, and he'd never grow tired of it. Though, his concept of time and yours are slightly different.

He's patient, excessively so sometimes, in your humble opinion. But, he also never expected in his three hundred and forty five years of existence, to find someone who manages to warm his cold and stagnant heart in the way you have.

Now, anytime away from you is a bit bothersome.

It's just, he never knew humans like you existed. In his world, there are either those who lust after his kind and the benefits in which their heightened senses and skills provide, or those who see him as a complete moral abomination.

Even now, in a society that has to live in conjunction with vampires, there are still so many people who fear him. Well, they fear what they think he is. A creature of the night, a demon, something that is only greedy for strife and nothing more.

You were the first person who genuinely throttled him, curious and wide eyed, completely fascinated by him. And not in a way that made him feel like he was under a microscope, but in a way that made him feel as though he was something...to be admired.

Your heartbeat, even after a year, still flutters like the wings of dragonfly whenever he displays his strength; swinging you up into his arms like you're made of feathers and all things delicate.

At first, he thought you were scared, weary, perhaps, about his abnormalities. He couldn't find any other explanation for the way you seemed to shrink in his presence whenever he'd dip his head below your chin to grace your throat with his lips, cooling your hot skin.

It didn't make sense. Not until he realized there is a direct correlation to your change and scent, and these moments in which he can be himself around you.

You like it. You like that he's different, a complete opposite to what you'd find in the common world. If he thought he could be any more enamored, anymore breathless than he was before (no pun intended) he was wrong.

Even now, with you lying with your back against his hard chest, playing with his slim fingers, your voice is nothing but earnest. Curious, in your own little world that consists of just you and him.

He thinks, no he knows, that if he had a pulse it would be racing every time he's around you. Every time you ask him a question that would normally repulse anyone else, even when you place his cool palm against your blazing cheek, giddy about the difference in temperature. He can tell that you just want to know more about him, about how he exists in the world. He simply can't resist indulging you.

"So...everyone doesn't taste the same? I always just assumed that blood is, well, blood." He smiles to himself as you trace shapes into his palm, before flipping his hand over and grazing your fingertips over his protruding knuckles.

The feeling of your skin against his is so pleasant he almost gets distracted.

"Well, it depends, really," his free hand strokes up and down your arms, savoring the softness. "sometimes the difference is slight, like someone who's A or B negative, but other times it can be quite stark. It's about chemistry really."

He can already see your expression in his head, furrowed brows, lips pursed in a manner too cute for your own good. He absentmindedly pushes you further against his chest, reclining slightly against the pillows as to make it more comfortable for you. You hum in satisfaction.

"Chemistry? Like how you feel about the person?" He can't quite pinpoint what is laced within the lilt of your voice, he answers nonetheless, chuckling warmly.

The sound is like pure velvet, causing your skin to tingle. You shiver, and he pulls your blanket over you, worried his lack of body heat may be disturbing your comfort. He doesn't realize how wrong he is.

"It's more like, how that person has lived. Their natural...how do I say...essence? Yes, their essence sometimes can determine how desirable some ones blood is to us."

He doesn't miss the way your heartbeat falters in rythm. He grins, as you take both of his hands in yours and intertwine your fingers. He twists his wrist and brings your knuckles up to his lips, kissing your skin.

You shift underneath the covers, suddenly thankful for his cool temperature. You know that most of the vampires that exist in society use blood bags from the banks provided, but you still wonder...

"Am I...am I desirable to you? Like, my blood, or whatever." You wish you could say you usually aren't so bad at speaking when you're around him, but that would be a blatant lie.

It's the most endearing thing he's ever witnessed.

His hands are gone from yours and elsewhere in the blink of an eye, one strong arm locked around your torso as his free hand reaches down to cup your chin. He turns and lifts your head towards him, gently, and the look in his eyes has your breath stalling momentarily.

"Of course you are, silly," he says it as if it's the most obvious thing ever, leaning down to peck your nose. Butterflies swarm violently in your belly. "I desire you in every way there is to desire someone, it makes me want to keep you all to myself. No one else should be allowed to even think about you, or your blood, in that way."

He looks lost in thought for a second, pupils almost darkening the whole of his irises, before he seemingly brings himself out of his daze. You turn in his hold, adjusting your position so that you're practically lying on top of him, chests touching and your legs cradled between his hips. He holds you effortlessly in his arms.

"Well it wouldn't matter anyways, cause I'm all yours." His pearly teeth show from behind the pillowy surface of his lips, as he leans in to kiss you in a manner that has you reaching out to wrap your hand around the nape of his neck.

"Mhm, all mine." He murmurs, nose nudging against yours as he shifts back and forth from your top lip, and then your bottom, tongue exploring the surface of each.

Kissing you, is another experience entirely for him. He wonders if it feels for you as it does for him, like pure intoxication. It brings back memories, memories he didn't think could still be reachable in the depths of his mind.

A time where he was warm, where life thrummed through his veins like the rushing current of a river. You are springtime on his tongue, the rays of sunlight that once heated his skin, the smell of flora in the air that mingles with the fleeting breeze.

He almost whines when you depart from his mouth, yearning already heavy in the pit of his stomach.

You look almost nervous, suddenly finicking with the front of his shirt as you sit back on his lap. He can hear the acceleration of your heartbeat, can smell the anxiety that is almost as heady as your desire.

He reaches out to cup your cheek, something he often does as a comforting gesture. You smile softly, meeting his curious, tepid gaze.

"So...I have a question," your voice shakes and you huff. "I mean, I was just wondering," he senses your struggle, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up so that your chests are nearly touching again, his palms splayed against your lower back.

"You can ask me anything, sweetheart. You know that." His voice, as sweet as honey, calms your racing pulse for a moment. Until you actually say the words out loud, wincing as if preparing for a scolding.

"Well I know you have a family, of sorts, from what you've told me. And I know you've always been really...hesitant to tell me more about them? I mean I've never been over, to your home or met them,"

Understanding washes over him, hands rubbing your back soothingly as the glint in his irises provokes an odd sensation within your belly. Like he knew this conversation would have to be had one day.

He lets you finish speaking, though your voice has even more of a tremor than before, now.

"Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, I understand if you don't want me over there."

Urgency calcifies in his chest, the sad lilt to your soft voice making him feel ill. The way you say it is as if you think he doesn't want you in his space, like he's keeping you away from there because of something other than rational reasoning, doesn't sit right with him.

He cups your jaw, firmly but gently.

"I want you with me as much as possible, never think that I don't want you. That is not at all why I haven't brought you over there," You have no choice but to believe him, when he's looking at you with such a passionate gaze far heavier than what you're used to in a normal setting, his words concise.

"I am...well I'm old, and so are they. I've spent a long time being alienated, far before we were even accepted in the new world. We've settled here since before you were born, so you won't remember what it was like when people were forced to live along side us."

You hate hearing the unusual grain of what seems to be dejection in his tone, though you listen fervently anyways, his hands still comforting you despite the fact that his eyes are the ones cast down. You want to kiss the furrow between his dark brows.

"I've accepted who I am, furthermore I've accepted who I want to be. I realized that, it would do me no good to be a monster if people were willing, even if begrudgingly, to accept our existence. But my brothers,"

Your stomach sinks at the way he says it, knowing without a doubt that this is the answer to your original question, that his stance had to be explained before he told you something like this.

"they don't feel the same way as me, so they are stuck in their ways beyond coercion. They live very different lives, they are what our kind refer to as nightcrawlers, it's sardonic inside joke for those of us that would rather not conform to the new age of mutual concurrency."

"They are still a bit resentful for the fact that they can't exactly give in to their natural instincts. They don't see the humans acceptance as welcoming, they see it as a mockery. Do you see where I'm coming from?"

You look a bit out of it, like maybe you're frightened and he's suddenly worried he's gone overboard, that he's scared you in a way that can't be fixed. His eyes are suddenly frantic.

But then you speak, and you don't sound vexed, nor unsettled. Your question is simple, your thighs tightening around his waist as if to draw yourself closer to his comfort, arms looping around his shoulders.

"Do they all feel that way?"

He smiles, muscles untensing as you play with his hair in the way you usually do. Your eyes never leave his, and he wonders how he got so lucky.

"The youngest, well the youngest in our years, they're a bit less malicious about it. They don't cross anyone unless someone crosses them, but they can be excessively territorial because of their youth."

The tension, despite talking about a topic so heavy, is light again. You feel a bit silly now, understanding why he might not want you in close proximity with his coven.

But, still, knowing that there are people, for lack of better term, that have been in his life unimaginably long; a completely different, solidified version of a family, it makes you more nosey than usual. Could they really be that different from him?

"And...you're sure that if I were to meet them, it would end badly?" His eyebrow twitches in an inquisitive manner, surprise coloring his sharp features.

"I- well I thought you were just curious, I didn't think you'd actually want to meet them. Especially after all of that,"

It's as if he's speaking to himself out loud, his pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips. You resist the urge to kiss him so suddenly.

"but I don't suppose so. It's already established that you're mine. If there's one rule we follow, it's that. They know how I feel about you, despite our differences."

The sturdiness to his voice when he speaks of you being his, has your belly filling with heat at an irrational rate, and you suddenly remember how it felt to see him before you actually got to know him.

He's incredibly intimidating on the surface, firm and stoic. You can't see how anyone would want to anger him.

"So then I'd be safe, meeting them. And I'd get to see if you guys really have furniture."

Despite not needing to, he swallows. It's hard impossible to say no to you, when you look at him like that and sound so genuinely interested at a prospect that would make any other person run for the hills, even cracking jokes.

You're soft, and too innocent for your own good. He should say no, but to risk seeing a pout form on your soft lips, or having to hear the disappointment in your voice, it's unbearable.

"You really want to meet them, don't you?" He can't fight his smile when your face lights up like that.

"Well, I think it's important. They're your family, one way or another." You're gentle when you speak, honest.

"You're safe with me, you have to know that. But they're...not used to being around humans that aren't just accessories. The last thing I want is for one of them to say something that makes you uncomfortable."

It's evident in the low timbre of his tone that he's serious, and any smart person might listen. But as he said, and as you believe wholeheartedly, you're safe with him. Safer than you'd ever be.

And, as wrong as it may be, you want to see what other vampires are like. You're really only used to Johnny, the exception, where as most modern vampires only come out when absolutely necessary. Meeting him, and falling in love with him, has given you a brand new sight towards the world. Is it that insane to want to meet his brothers that have been so close to him for so long?

"I'll be with you, so it won't matter. I'll bet they're not even that scary, no ones scarier than you."

Your triumphant, playful smile has him grinning from ear to ear, leaning down to capture your lips between his own. Even though you're wrong about them, he's weak. Too weak.

"Yeah? Afraid I'll eat you for breakfast?" His breath is suddenly against your earlobe and you shudder pleasantly, grasping onto his shoulders before regaining some sort of composure.

"I'm definitely dinner, breakfast is really overrated. Unless it's breakfast for dinner, that's way better for some reason?"

He's kissing you again, despite the fact that he's smiling too hard for his own good, swiftly flipping you over so that you're caged underneath his body. His weight is barely perceptible even with your chests touching, forearms holding himself up.

"You'll be the death of me, you know that?" He has a hard time speaking without strain due to the way his throat has suddenly tightened with need, your legs wrapping around his trim torso and pushing his hips further against yours.

"Not possible, unless I've suddenly charmed your heart into beating again." You tease, though his eyebrows remain furrowed in concentration as he kisses you between words, dangerously sensual. You smell too divine.

"Very possible, actually. If you only knew how you make me feel."

Your belly lurches at the desperation that flows from him, his aura downright fever inducing. Without thinking, your crotch nudges his, bucking with the slightest of movements. But it's enough, enough to have his jaw clenching and a habitual breath of restraint leaving his nose.

Five fingers grasp your chin, so he can kiss you, hard. His hips begin to roll as his teeth nibble your bottom lip, the fabric of his jeans an arousing juxtaposition to your soft lounge shorts, your lack of underwear making it all the more satisfying.

He's hard, too. Knowing his dick is just underneath, hard for you, it'll never not give you whiplash. It gets you drunk, knowing your effect on him is as overwhelming as his on you. You're whimpering against his tongue, rubbing yourself on his bulge.

"Mmm, fuck." He growls, capturing your wrists in his palms before your next breath, raising them above your head and making sure they're comfortable against the pillows.

He's inches away from your face now, and his expression alone is enough to have your walls pulsing around nothing, desire seeping into your chest and hardening your nipples, goosebumps forming across your skin.

He looks at you like he's hungry, nostrils flaring avariciously. He tries so very hard to fight the darkness that fills his sclera like ink, knowing how very monstrous and unlike himself it makes him appear.

But he hears the way it makes your heart race. He can practically taste the thrill that seeps from your pores, the unbridled arousal that drips from your cunt like syrup. Your neck cranes upwards to try and reach his lips, and he smirks before meeting you halfway.

"Do you want me to keep rubbing your pussy like this," he looks down between your bodies and purposely rolls his hips in an accentuated fashion. "or do you want my dick?"

His voice is brusque, but caring and accommodating as it always is, his plump lips quivering slightly from the way his mouth waters.

"Can I have your dick, please?" You return, his mouth quirking up into a sideways grin.

"Such good manners," he kisses you again, sloppily, the sounds lewd and causing you to shiver against his unwavering body. "how could I ever deny you?"

You blink, and cool air is breezing against your wet slit, the nakedness sending a wave of tingles through your nerve endings. Before you can look down, you feel his cock against your clit, smooth and rounded tip gathering wetness from your hole before circling it over your clit.

He uses one hand to keep your legs parted for his viewing, fingers softly gripping your flesh as he sits back on his haunches. You feel impatience crawling up your throat, toes already curling as your bud throbs and your walls ache.

He's so pretty, he is raven hair against olive skin, an onyx sky against shimmering stars. Your hands reach out for his hips, delicate but fierce in their strength. He rubs his shaft against your folds, before prodding at your entrance.

He always watches your expression when he first slides in, the way your mouth falls open and you are suddenly this beautiful, agonizingly worked up thing. He bites down on his bottom lip as his eyes flicker from your pussy, lovlier than a flower and welcoming him with a squeeze, to your face.

Your eyes are bleary as they stare back up at him, your breathing already erratic. His lip curls with the need to hiss, to ravage you. But he takes it slow, he loves watching you fall apart too much. And you're so wet around him, moaning his name like it's the only word you know.

"Johnnyyyy, oh - umph." He rocks into, gracefully and with a deliberate curl. You claw at the front of his tee shirt, pulling him down to your face.

He eagerly obliges, meeting your lips with a soft smack, the angle only pushing him deeper within your body. His pace has increased, the front of his thighs colliding with the back of yours. His mouth somehow remains steady, as if he's not fucking you like he is.

He's parting from you sooner than you'd like, but you know he likes to fuck you like this, able to see all of you and savor it. It's still the most incredible thing he'll ever witness or experience, he's sure of it.

He can't believe a creature like him could be so lucky, here with his manhood buried to the hilt inside of someone so breathtaking, so innately divine. Your essence is thick and wet, coating his shaft each time he pulls out.

"Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin' pretty baby." His voice is gruff, nose twitching and eyes black. You wrap your fingers around his strong, sturdy forearms as his hands grip the softness of your waist. His lips purse and a string of spit dribbles down your clit.

"Ungh, oh my- ohhhhh Johnny please please." You're not sure what your begging for, and it doesn't matter. Because he'll give you whatever it is you need before you know you need it, already hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, gripping your jaw and pushing it up so that he can mouth at your sensitive neck.

"Mmm, I got you baby, I'm right here," he takes your earlobe in his mouth before marking your throat, licking and sucking. "I can already feel your belly tensing sweetheart, gonna make a mess for me?"

All you can do is nod, eyes squeezed shut and hands exploring his firm abdomen while he pushes himself all the way into you; rocking his hips back and forth to make sure the tip of his cock is rubbing that sweet spot inside of you. Your clit is being stimulated in the process, and you know you're not going to last long.

He knows it too, and his thumb is suddenly on your swelling bud, rubbing you in circles faster than you can comprehend, but with just enough pressure to have your nails digging into his back with fervor. Having unbreakable skin must be a plus, in his case.

You're tensing more now, twitching even. Your energy is buzzing around him, electric. Your heart pounds like a drum, rattling against your ribcage and causing blood to thrum viciously throughout your veins. His thrusts become a bit more frantic, his senses completely overcome with you.

He's so lost in his own pleasure he doesn't even hear you cum. He feels you go limp underneath him, back arching off the bed and your walls spasming around his cock.

He realizes now that you're trying to shove your face in the pillows, a silent sob ripping through your body. He's pulling you to him, and you're suddenly in his lap, as he comforts you with a soothing coo.

When you move your face from the crook of his neck and he's met with your teary eyes and damp skin, he's thrown off the edge.

Your forehead is against his as he bites back a snarl of sorts, pumping into you from below with as much restraint as he can muster as to not overwhelm you since you've just cum as well.

He has to move his hands away from you for a quick second, opting for the bed sheets instead while you cling onto him and kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. He feels selfish, but he also doesn't want to crush your hip bones in such a state.

Your breathing is still uneven, even after several minutes and once he's sure that he's in his right frame of mind, his arms are around you again.

Your body is sweetly ravaged by his mouth, lips leaving a wet trail over too much skin in such a short amount of time. You're still sensitive, wincing as his enthusiasm causes you to shift on his lap.

"Oh." He uses one arm to wrap around your middle, slowly pulling you off of his dick and lying you down against the comforter.

You whine at the loss of contact as he disappears, returning in a blur with a warm, damp cloth. He's in between your legs, wiping away your shared mess and muttering soft sorrys when he's just a smidge too rough. You're still embarrassed by his need to take care of you like this, bashfully looking away.

You don't realize he's gone and returned until the covers are being thrown over your body, his arms securing you to his solid chest and his lips against your ear.

"You need sleep, don't argue." He kisses the back of your head and you smile to yourself, snuggling further against his figure. You feel like you're being warmed from the inside out, despite how cool his skin is against yours.

"M'not gonna argue, you made me tired," The thump of your pulse and the shy lilt to your voice satisfies him, and he wishes that he could make love to you all over again.

"When will you take me to go meet the others?" Your speech is already slightly slurred with sleep, a yawn following. He sighs, kissing behind your ear.

"Give me until tomorrow night, I need to discuss a few things. Then we'll go, I promise."

He wishes that this could be a more exciting prospect for him, that in the back of his mind he weren't, for the first time in a long time, genuinely worried about how his brothers might react.

It's got nothing to do with his capability. Without question he will keep you safe, his strength is comparable to the eldest and he'd forge fire if it meant having you whole and in his arms.

But his coven, they're different than what he knows you're expecting. He knows that because of primal, and ancestral rules that they will not lay a hand on you.

If he's honest, it's more so what might come out of their mouths that worries him. He can't have them slip up and say something they're not supposed. It'll kill him if there's even one crease of worry or sadness etched onto your pretty face. He won't allow it.

But if it's important to you, it's important to him. You're here, asleep in his arms, and he's certain that if he had a soul, he would trade it if it meant another lifetime of your existence.

•

Johnny isn't next to you when you wake up, which isn't a particularly uncommon occurrence. It's just that normally he'd let you know beforehand, even shaking you awake sometimes just to mumble a be back soon in your ear, despite the fact that you're half asleep.

You reach over to your bedside table to grab your phone, clicking it on and feeling a bit less tense realizing he's left you a message. You smile.

Sorry I had to leave so early, sweetheart. I'm speaking with my brothers and getting some things taken care of. Don't worry. I love you and I'll see you soon. xx

He must be serious, about the way they behave. It's not that you don't believe him, you'd just rather see the positives, in whatever way you can. It's a little bit startling to think about today, if you're honest. Especially after such an all consuming night, the sun now too bright in your eyes, the scent of Johnny still on your sheets and clothes.

You feel anything but dark and dreary when you think of him. That's not to say he's not quite scary if you don't know him. Broad and towering, gaze low and piercing in a way that'll have you looking away nervously if he were to make eye contact with you.

But you can't imagine him as anything but what he is, beautiful and lively and kind, soft around the cold hard edges.

You stretch as you rise from your bed, joints popping as you pull yourself onto your feet. You wince slightly, realizing between your thighs is still fairly sore, ghosts of his touch lingering on your heated skin.

You and Johnny don't have sex incredibly often, at least not by normal human couple standards. It's pretty obvious why. His ability to control his strength, his desire, his thirst; in that state, as he has explained, it leaves him a little bit frayed.

It's not like you're not satisfied anyways, he's more than generous with his mouth and fingers, and despite the fact that he holds nearly half of his full vigor back when the two of you are intimate, it's still a little bit throttling for you afterwards.

The day is boring without him, quite frankly, but despite whatever you may think about it, you still respect his decision to plan ahead for your visit.

You do get it, it's not that. If anything, you just feel too safe with him. To the point where you sometimes feel invincible in his arms.

It almost makes up for the fact that you don't get to show him off as much as you'd like, as silly as it sounds. His kind can go out in the sun, but it's a bit bothersome after a while from what you've heard. He is almost a cliché in that department, most days either spent with him in doors or at night.

Sometimes, though, you wonder what it would be like if he were human. It wouldn't make a difference, you're sure of that, because he'll always be your Johnny. But the thought does venture into your mind every now and then, because of the way he speaks of his humanhood. As if he's trying not to admit how much he misses it.

You often wonder what he must have looked like when he could blush, with his vibrant smile on show, and dimples high on his soft cheeks.

A small, selfish part of you envies the people who might have gotten to witness him like that. Warm, a little uncoordinated maybe, eyes topaz in the sun. He must have been a sight to behold, throughout his human life.

Deep down, a part of you knows that, that is what this whole thing with his brothers boils down to. You're not just curious, you're madly in love with him. So much so that when he's away, it does feel uncomfortable. You never believed people when they spoke of love that way, you always thought it to be quite gross, actually.

And maybe you're just a silly little human with silly little feelings, to be so smitten after a year. But there's no going back now, he's a part of you, so of course you think about how much of him you've never gotten to see. Of course you want to meet any tangible part of his incomprehensible life, his family. Even if it's not conventional.

It leaves an odd pit in your stomach, thinking of him young and youthful, thinking of his mother and father and the life that they had created so many lifetimes ago.

You think of him at eighteen, maybe still plush in some areas not yet tainted by the work of adulthood. Had he ever been in love, back then? You swallow back the irrational bitterness you suddenly taste.

You think of him at twenty, and what he might have been passionate about. What life was even like for him. You think of his first kiss, and him at twenty four, a year before his life as what he is now, began.

Truthfully, you don't know a lot about him. It's a strange, sudden realization, but it's just never really mattered in all honesty. Because you know him, how he is now, which is all you'll ever get and is more than what you could've ever asked for.

You've always felt like it's different because his existence in itself has been so tremulous, and in a lot of ways very hard to talk about without it getting uncomfortable because of all that he has lost, or subsequently reminding him of what he is.

Never things he'd admit out loud, but definitely something you've picked up on in his expression or the wistfulness in his voice. It doesn't matter, to you; the bad parts. He's yours, and somehow you two have found each other despite so many centuries vouching on never having met one another at all. You wish you could truly express to him how nothing would ever stray you away.

You've showered and eaten an inadequate dinner by the time Johnny shows up, presence barely perceptible until he's wrapping his strong arms around you from behind.

You're used to it by now, not even flinching anymore. You melt instantaneously, placing your hands over his that are resting around your waist.

"Hi." He whispers, lips against the shell of your ear. You shiver and let out a giggle, turning in his grasp to get a kiss. He's on your lips before you even have to lift yourself on your tippy toes.

"Mm, hi." You mumble, hands cupping his jaw. You hum as he pulls you closer, spinning you so that you're pressed against the counter, his hand on the small of your back blocking you from the hard edge.

"We could stay here, you know," he smiles against your mouth, half teasing and half serious. "a change of plan never hurt anybody."

The idea is actually tempting.

"But I just showered." You pout, and his hands are rubbing your sides, eyes contemplative.

"You're right, you shouldn't go over there smelling anymore enticing than you already do, anyways." He says it with a grit of his teeth, as if the mere thought bothers him.

You're too distracted by his face to really absorb what he's saying, smiling up at him, practically beaming. Before he can quirk his brow and boop your nose with the tip of his finger, you kiss him again.

It's chaste, but it's sincere.

"You're so cute when you're all disgruntled." You state, throwing your arms around his neck. He snorts, shaking his head and licking his heart shaped lips lips out of habit.

"I'm not disgruntled, I just want this to go well." He replies, broad shoulders slumping. You unhook your arms from around him to grasp his hands, large and welcoming in yours. He intertwines your fingers.

"It will. Because I'm with you." It's simple, and undeniable. He knows that, and accepts defeat when he sees how truly bright the gleam in your eye is. You're his own little sun.

During the drive to his home, Johnny takes this time to give you some much needed insight on the creatures you’ll be meeting. He gives you their names, some key characteristics so that you won’t be startled by their behavior, but he doesn’t give you their ages. He simply refers to the one named Yuta as the oldest, and Mark as the youngest.

“Youngest and oldest in vampire years or..?” You ask, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile at your interest. You forget to focus for a moment, tracing the planes of his side profile with your eyes.

“Yuta was my age when he was changed, but he is, in our terms, the eldest. Mark is the youngest both in the factors.” His thumb strokes the back of your knuckles where your clasped hands rest on the center console, though it doesn’t soothe all the burning questions that you’ve decided need to stay in your head, for now.

You think of mark first, something about his youth, despite the fact that he is centuries older than you, seeming a little bit less intimidating. Almost abstract, in a way. As he describes the youngest, it’s easy to picture a boyish smile, innocence. Until he throws in the fact that the ones that get changed before the brain is fully developed, tend to be the ones with more of an unsteady grasp on their more potent emotions. You can guess what that means, and he suddenly regrets ever opening his mouth.

Johnny almost debates whether or not he should turn the car around and forget about this occasion all together, growing anxious at your monotone expression and the way you are chewing the skin of your bottom lip, and not realizing you are just lost in deep thought, not perturbed or uncomfortable.

Really, you are just trying to make out what his brothers may be like. Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung. For some reason, it’s the thought of meeting Yuta that seems the most daunting. Despite the fact that he is Johnny’s age, not technically but anyways - knowing that he has been around for so long has you wondering how a person like that even thinks.

Maybe you should've listened to your boyfriend. No, you're brave. But sometimes you are not very smart.

You are pulled for your reverie of sorts when your surroundings become darker, gloomier in the way that the trees seem to shield the road ahead from the sun, forming a canopy from above and casting misshapen shadows across the ground.

You don’t realize you’re clutching his hand tighter until Johnny turns to look at you with worried eyes, all the stars and every wish that he could ever grant you swirling in his chocolate irises.

“Are you alright? We can turn around and-”

You shake your head in defiance, determined. You aren’t going to back out now, not when you can already see the house from around the bend, pillars high and spiraling, a wide balcony peeking out from behind the trees.

“I’m perfectly fine, promise.” you give him a soft, reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but he knows you’ll likely scowl at him if he keeps insisting on your indifference, so he takes the car just a little bit further, rounding a bend and stalling before cutting the engine.

The house is a lot more grand that you’d previously expected, the outside still kempt but not as pristine. Mostly, you thought that it would offensive to coin their home as something dark and menacing, not wanting to contribute to the cliché. But, it does in fact feel as though you are walking into a lair.

It’s beauty is undeniable, though, despite the lack of real warmth that it exudes. Upon entering, wide open space greets you, black marble flooring underneath your boots and a staircase straddling either side of the entryway. Above it is a balcony, hanging over the foyer from the second floor.

“So I was correct, about the furniture.” You murmur, pressed against his hard side with your arms wound around his forearm despite the fact that the house is seemingly empty. You know that it’s not, though. Any living being who walked into this house would be able to feel it, the static that seems to raise the hair on the back of your neck.

“You'll have to forgive our complacency when it comes to interior design,"

The voice seems to appear out of nowhere, melodic and smooth and echoing off of the walls in a way that makes the direction of the sound imperceptible. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone making their way down the left staircase, gliding more so than walking.

"So many years leave us comfortable, rather than fashionable."

Two figures float behind him, while three others descend down the opposite staircase. You could've sworn you'd only glanced at Johnny for half a second, before they suddenly materialized.

The man is suddenly right in front of you, and your eyes act as if they have no choice but to meet his, your breath stalling. It reminds you of the first time you saw Johnny, how shocking it was to be faced with such inhuman beauty.

"My name is Taeyong, it's lovely to meet you." The creature flashes a bright smile, something unreadable in his sharp eyes. His quaint lips are mischievous, or maybe you're just paranoid.

You don't have a chance to respond, already surrounded by a group that seem oddly eager to meet you despite what Johnny had warned, their gate an obvious contrast to your boyfriends.

They seem to sway effortlessly rather than stand perfectly still, their proximity closer than that of strangers. The energy around them feels unpredictable, and without thought your hand tightens around Johnny's.

"Wow, she smells good." A voice muses from the group, and you follow it to find a face that you somehow automatically know belongs to Mark. His face is youthful, eyes wide and full of glee and then a bit amused, due to what you can assume is from your boyfriend glaring at him sharply.

"No wonder he's so attached." The boy beside Mark, with dimples as deep as you've ever seen, hums to his friend.

"Please, don't be so crude, children. She is our guest." This voice is authoritative, the timbre low but the tone gentle like the stroke of a feather.

The group seems to make way for him without thought, and again, you're instantly struck with recognition simply by his presence alone.

He approaches you without caution, you blink and he's suddenly right there. His hair is longer than the others, curling around his prominent chin and framing his elegant features.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, we've heard so much about the little human that's enamored our dear brother." You can't look away from his cunning face, his eyes are almost wild in excitement, plush lips stretching across his face to reveal a million wat smile.

He extends his hand towards you, with a bit more reserve now - and the first thing you notice are the sharp, glossy black nails that are more akin to claws, formed into stilettos at the tips of his delicate, slender fingers.

"Careful." Johnny mutters to his brother through his teeth, the man giggling in amusement as he gently takes your hand in his. You hadn't even realized you'd extended it back, his skin almost colder than Johnny's if possible.

"Tsk, so worried. For what reason? Look, I'm being as gentle as a hummingbird. Her hands are so soft."

Yuta. It's undeniable, he's too confident, bemused by this whole ordeal and even more so by the way his brother has stiffened beside you, pulling you back just a fraction of an inch.

The elder sighs wistfully, allowing your hand to drop from his. He meets your eyes once more, your skin buzzing oddly.

"My name is-"

"Yuta. I-I know, I mean I guessed."

It's the first word you've spoken to any them, and your voice is shakier than you'd like, throat dry. The mans lips twitch into a grin, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he clasps his hands together in a stunned manner.

"Wow, perceptive you are. So sure, despite appearing so meek."

You can't decipher his tone, worried that maybe you've messed up by interrupting him. He seems a bit perplexed, in a curious way. You're grateful for a new voice introducing themselves, directing your attention elsewhere.

"I'm Jungwoo," His voice is the most welcoming. "your skin is so pretty. Is that weird to say?" He mutters the last part to the slender, inquisitive man beside him, who's features are similar to that of a feline. He seems indifferent.

But, for the first time since you've arrived, you smile, an odd sense of relief flooding through your nervous system. You feel Johnny relax as well, and you glance up at him for just a moment, to see him already looking down at you.

"It's nice to meet you, Jungwoo," The jubilent vampire flashes you a smile. "all of you, really. Thankyou for welcoming me into your home."

"Of course, doll. Should we give her a tour?" Yuta speaks and Johnny responds almost a heartbeat after the elders suggestion.

"I can do that, give her some space." His voice is polite but firm, and Yuta giggles again, while the others back up a bit. Johnny readjusts his grip on your hand and begins moving towards the right staircase, turning his head to send the rest a look you can't see.

He leads you down the left corridor into a massive hallway, the walls a deep shade of plum, floors white marble instead of black like the ones downstairs.

Once you're out of view from the rest, he stills, turning towards you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

"I'm sorry about that, really." His eyes are apologetic and you snort, embracing his middle and kissing his chin.

"Sorry for what? I'm fine, they were fine."

He lets out a sigh, broad shoulders slumping as he does so. He believes you enough to not keep on, pressing his lips to your forehead before continuing his non informative tour.

"I wish they'd keep at least some of their thoughts to themselves," you're turning, brought down another lengthy hall with a massive picture window framing the north wall. Heavy burgundy curtains keep the sun from shining through the glass.

To the left is another set of stairs, small in comparison to the ones you've seen so far, framed with elegant railing. "this is my room, up here." He points to the door that sits right at the top of them, lonesome and heavy looking.

Your heartbeat is suddenly loud in your own ears, excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospect of being in a space that belongs to him. He senses this, and smiles to himself as he wraps his fingers around the doorknob and pushes it open.

Everything about his room is inherently Johnny. It's simple, but so very him.

The atmosphere is completely different to what the rest of the house provokes, the floors a deep cherry red, hardwood. A round, red rug sits in the middle of the room, a leather sectional nestled in the corner to the right. Beside it hangs rows of shelves with a multitude of books, more than you'd normally see lounging in some ones room. He's probably read them all three times over by now.

He has a television, which shouldn't make you giggle as it does. It's far bigger than necessary, taking up almost all the space on the eastern wall. There's a door almost adjacent to the one you entered from, which you presume is the bathroom.

"I love it, it's so comfortable in here." You muse, trotting towards the sectional and throwing yourself on the massive sofa. He chuckles, sauntering towards you and lifting your head so that he can place it atop his lap.

He can't lie to himself, it makes him ache in the most pleasant of ways to have you here, in a place that has been his only real peace since he's met you. Well, scratch that. You are his only safe haven.

"Yeah?" He replies, scratching your scalp lightly, studying the softness of your features as you gaze up at him, elated.

"Mhm, it feels like stepping into a different house entirely. Not that I have an issue with the interior design." You playfully mock his brother Taeyong’s earlier words, and laughter bubbles from your boyfriends throat.

"You don't think it's too melancholy? The house, I mean."

You shake your head indifferently, hair ruffling against the material of his jeans that are covering his thick thighs.

"To be honest it is quite....vampire-y, but it's elegant. And big. And knowing you live here makes it not seem so dark."

His hands are suddenly cupping the area just underneath your arms, effortlessly pulling you up so that you're straddling his lap. Your thighs find their place immediately, knees squeezing his torso.

"You're too good. Too pretty to be in a place like this." Despite his tone his eyes are formed into crescent moons from his smile, and you don't fight the urge to kiss him.

"Shush, or I'll battle you to the death." You mumble, his nose nudging your cheek as he tilts his head to move in a steady rythm with your mouth.

"Mm, think I beat you to it." He teases, and you can feel his smile. You're not in the frame of mind to scold him for that one.

Naturally, without even thinking, your body heats up fast from the way he kisses you. Even if he's trying to be chaste, it always ends up with a flame being fed by his tongue. His scent, the sensation of wholeness when you're surrounded by him.

Especially now, in the comfort of and quiet of his room when all you can hear is the smack of your mouths, steady and calculated. You're encapsulated by everything that belongs to the person you love.

A soft push to your shoulders has you humming in confusion, you're still not back on earth when you break apart to see the contrived, reluctant expression that twists his face.

"We can't - not here." He strains, very much so aware of way your hips are planted so firmly against his, the sweet scent of blood that rushes like a current through the area between your thighs.

You pout, and instinctually he's cupping your face between his palms, kissing it away. His fingertips graze the shell of your ear.

"Don't give me that look, you know why I'm saying no. If they thought you smelled good before, you'd be the finest of dining options if you walked down there wet."

Your body pulses with arousal, arousal that he can practically taste on the tip of his tongue. A petulant whine slips from your throat, while your palms graze his hardening length through his jeans, and his cock twitches.

Fuck. He really can't deny you, can he?

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scented-morker · 4 years ago

Text

⇢˚⋆ ✎ first "I love you's" with en-maknae line

*:･ﾟ✧ genre : fluff

*:･ﾟ✧ description : established relationship, bf!enhypen, gn!reader, first time saying I love you headcanons :D

*:･ﾟ✧ here it is!!! this is- pretty long, just a heads up 🤪

┈─ ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ─┈

ଘ Sunoo ~ˊˎ-

He was having a hard time lately with all of the stress from the comeback and everything

He tried to hide it from you but obviously you noticed, like you were on FaceTime and he wasn’t even showing his face 😞

So obviously you were like 🤨 “Where did my sunshine baby go?”

Which actually made him show his face it was red asf

So when he hung up you were like k time to cheer up the love of my life

Which is exactly what you said in your brain and then had a nervous breakdown because ??the love of your life??

But you decided to push that away for now so you could get everything you needed together

You texted the boys and told them you were going to come over

They had noticed his change and thought it would be a good idea so they agreed, and some of them left while others promised to stay in their rooms

When you knock on the door the next day you hear “Sunoo can you get that?” from somewhere in the house and you know they’re doing their jobs

Sunoo wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he opened the door, maybe a manager or a crazy fan, but it wasn’t his s/o with a bag on their shoulders and holding a little bouquet of flowers

“Y/n!!” He immediately engulfed you in a hug, and you smile at his excitement, you definitely made the right plan

He pulls away, asking a “why are you here” to which you shove the flowers at him

“These are for you, um I hope you like them”

Your words came out kinda squished, most people don’t get their boyfriends flowers but you thought it was a really good idea, except now that you’re in front of him you feel kinda dumb, what if he doesn’t like them

“Thank you!! I love them!”

His eyes are sparkling and he tells you that he’s never been given a bouquet of flowers like this and that he’s so happy you got him some

And with your renewed confidence you tell him the rest of what you have planned, a self care day with movies and snacks and skin care and cuddling, lots of cuddling

And he just !!!

He gets so excited 🥺

Like “okay let’s start right now” and then picks you up and goes running the the couch, and you’re laughing almost directly in his ear and he can’t get any happier

So you spend all day together, just messing around and doing whatever

And then he falls asleep, right on the couch on your lap which like 🥰

He looks so peaceful and calm you can’t resist, so you stop playing with his hair like you were originally and lay your hand on his face, tracing his cute lil nose and all that

You start talking to him, quiet so you don’t ruin the mood or wake him up and you’re just like spilling your heart to this dude while he’s asleep, er, “asleep”

Like straight up “I was so worried about you, you were just acting different and I really hope you’re taking care of yourself like you should. My brain knew I had to do something, it specifically said ‘time to cheer up the love of my life’, which was also scary because love is scary you know”

He’s just laying there, eyes closed, trying not to lose his mind and just tackle you in a hug and kiss all over your face, but you don’t seem to be done talking yet so he waits

“But I love you, I really do. And I think that makes it not so scary, because it’s you”

He opens his eyes and at first you don’t even notice because you’re looking off into space but he kinda shifts in your lap and you just 😳

“I love you too, like a lot and it took everything in me not to cut you off and just attack you with my love”

“Well I’m done talking now so you wouldn’t be cutting me off”

And he does exactly what he was planning, tackling you in his arms on the couch, laying there with you while giving you sweet lil kisses and whispering about how much he loves you

He’s definitely back to himself

ଘ Jungwon ~ˊˎ-

Now our dear leader is a lil shy, which we all love him for, but that meant y’all had been dating for like a year almost

An ‘I love you’-less year

And you were a little worried like ‘is this not a serious relationship to him’ but you kinda brushed it off because you’re pretty young and you would never want to rush him

And then it became very obvious that he was serious when he freaking INVITED YOU TO A FAMILY VACATION

Not like a board the plane were going to Hawaii for a month vacation, a thankfully more chill like family camping in log cabins together for a weekend vacation

And obviously you were terrified because ya know meeting the ‘rents (I am so sorry why did I say it like that)

But you weren’t gonna say no to your boyfriend especially when he was so excited

So flash forward to you and jungwon, fresh off of a 3 hour car ride (where you obvi played 10 months like 80,000 times), walking up to a cute little campground with like three big log cabins next to each other, real cute

And you walk into the main one where everyone is meeting and his family is like SCREAMING like absolute chaos and there are little cousins running around and everything

And for some reason it feel comfortable and one of his little cousins comes up to you and asks you to play obviously you do

By the time his family realizes he’s here and greets him you’re surrounded by children

Cue his older cousins like “I knew they were fake” “you don’t have to lie wonnie, it’s okay to be single”

But then he points over to the living room and you’ve got a little kid on your back and another on your lap and someone has used their play makeup to give you blue eyeshadow

You give him a really big smile when you see him looking over and literally everyone just 🥺🥺🥺

He thinks you’ve never been more perfect even tho you literally end up with a glitter mustache

Eventually his aunts make their kids leave you alone and you help them wash up to eat (as almost scream when you see your reflection because their first impression of you was of you looking like a whacko)

But then you sit down at the table where he’s saved you a spot and they’re all so excited to meet you and ask you all sorts of questions

You’re holding his hand under the table because you’re nervous but then he’s got your hands in his lap fiddling with your fingers and you aren’t nervous anymore

Literally every single person in his family gives you a hug before you guys go to the cabin you’re sleeping in and you ask him ya know like

“Do you think they like me”

And he’s like ??? They literally like you more than me and my cousins tried to fight me to the death for a seat next to you at the table

But he just goes “they love you just as much as I do”

And you just combust

“You love me???”

And it wasn’t even an accident, he was just like “yup, like a lot”

Then bam “I love you too”

And they lived happily ever after more like his aunts overheard and screamed to the rest of the family what just happened

ଘ Niki ~ˊˎ-

Niki had begged you all week to come over and visit and you finally found a day that you were both free on

You knocked quietly, announcing your presence before letting yourself in like the boys had told you to do

Once you had set your things down and taken your shoes off you set out on a mission to find your lovely boyfriend

Which really didn’t take long because you could hear him screaming in the living room as soon as you walked in

Apparently he was losing at whatever video game they were playing and was not happy about it

You went over to his spot on the couch, squeezing in next to him and he gave you a lil side hug and a kiss on the temple to say hello

You settled down in your spot, leaning on him with his arm still around your shoulder as the next round started

Although it was a bad idea because when he lost again you almost got elbowed in the head

After a few more rounds some of the boys decide to go out and get food even tho he definitely begged them to stay because he wanted to win at least once

“No bud, we’re hungry, and you kinda have a significant other you’ve been ignoring for like an hour” thanks heeseung

So they leave (except for jake who got stuck on babysitting duty)

And you’re like well he seems to like this game even tho he sucks at it so might as well play it if that’s what he wants to do

So you’re all like “hey bub what if I play with you” and he’s already shoving the controller in your hand and explaining how it works

He loves that you try to take an interest in the things that he likes, and he also likes that you’ve never played it before because that’ll make it easy to beat you

Which it definitely was, sorry you kinda suck at this game (even more than your boyfriend)

“Yes!! I did it!!! I won!!”

Cue the trash talk because he’s a little devil spawn sometimes

“See that I woooooon, you didn’t even stand a chance against me, I’m a master at this game”

And you’re just sitting there like you hadn’t seen him get absolutely demolished by everyone else literally like 30 minutes ago, just shaking your head

“Ya know you’re lucky I love you or I would have smacked you by now”

You laugh when you say it and he joins in before going dead silent after like 3 seconds

“Wait you what?”

“I said you’re luck I lo-”

And then you go quiet too bc dang did you really just say that and now you’re all nervous

But then he just goes

“Yeah I kinda love you too”

And then he makes sure to spend some actual time with you, not just beating you in video games for the rest of the day

“WAIT ‘KINDA’???”

┈─ ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ── ꕀ ─┈

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunoo #sunoo scenarios #enhypen jungwon #jungwon scenarios #enhypen niki #niki scenarios #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #sunoo fluff #jungwon fluff #niki fluff

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years ago

Text

Like The Stars Hold The Moon

Written By : @katnissmellarkkkk

Prompt 59 : "Katniss dad is a victor, he won his hunger games and is a mentor. Peeta is reaped for the games and Katniss begs her dad to help him win the games. [submitted by anonymous]“

Hi! It feels like there’s so much I need to say here and I can’t remember any of it now! This is obviously–if you read the summary, which I assume you did and that’s why you’re here hahaha–an EFE prompt. It was submitted by an anonymous person, so I don’t know specifically if this is what you wanted but I really hope this is good enough that you’ll be fulfilled?

I don’t think there is much more to say? I hope everyone who reads this has a good day! I wrote plenty of this on Easter so I’d like to thank Jesus for rising again. And I feel like the prompt alone is a sufficient summary but just so you know, this heavily features Katniss, Peeta (obvi), Haymitch and Katniss’ father, Hunter (I named him, that’s not canon, I know).

This fic I likely going to be a three-shot with an opportunity for a sequel three-shot. Oh and also, thank you to the anon who sent the prompt!

Oh and this got really long, so I’m just going to submit the first part on here and then I’ll add a link at the bottom to continue reading on AO3. I’ve never done this before so I don’t know if I’m doing it right?

Okay, if you read all my talking, bye now!

Rated T for the canon violence.

At the reaping for the Forty-Seventh Hunger Games, Matty Knick drew out the names of a ”very special boy“ and ”a very special girl“ from the reaping bowls. She read them off in a bright voice and matched the sentiment with an out of place perky smile. The girl’s name was Heather Branch.

And the boy’s was Hunter Everdeen.

Of course, everyone knows the story of Hunter Everdeen.

Year of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games.

"So Hunter,” Caesar Flickerman leans toward the victor, absolutely electrified, and says, “tell us, tell us. How excited are you for the games this year?”

The camera focuses in on gray eyes, the color of a storm cloud or a cleanly polished knife. Dangerous and hard and cunning.

Or protective and frightful and angry.

Or warm and loving and kind.

“I’m about as excited as I always am, Caesar,” he shoots back, not a trace of even so much as a smirk on his face. Not even so much as a lift from the corner of his mouth.

And still, the crowd of Capitol idiots burst out in laughter, as if they just heard the funniest joke in the world, as if this was Hunter’s desired response to the words.

As if the conversation wasn’t about teenagers—and some as young as twelve—killing other teenagers.

“And what about you, Haymitch?” Caesar asks next, segueing from one aggravated man to another.

“I’m looking forward to the free drinks,” Haymitch says while tipping back dark gold colored liquid into his mouth. Almost as an afterthought, he gestures wide and sloppy to the crowd, igniting cacophonous sounds from the population once more. “And of course, the social interaction with all you lovely people.”

No one in the audience recognizes the insult. No one understands the blatant sarcasm at their expense.

Here in District Twelve though, we do. As exemplified by Peeta’s laugh, vibrating against my back. “Shh,” I hush, laser focused on the enormous television screen before us.

“Daddy’s not speaking anymore,” Prim reminds me from the other room, where she’s currently flipping through a magazine our father sent.

“Well, be quiet before he does,” I snap, elbowing Peeta when he rolls his eyes now. “Stop it, I haven’t seen him in weeks,” I complain, fixing him with a fierce glare.

“I know,” he murmurs agreeably, gently kissing my temple. “But he’ll be home in a few days.”

As if they could hear our exchange from inside the television box, Caesar turns his attention back to my father. “Hunter, how excited are you to get home to District Twelve?”

At that, his eyes genuinely light up with ferocity. “I’m counting the minutes,” he replies, but still manages to keep his tone cool. He adamantly refuses to give away his true emotion to even a single soul in the Capitol. It’s his way of withholding power from their greedy, glitter covered hands.

But I see the change in him. Prim, from her position against the doorframe, sees it. I’m positive my mother, who’s watching with our brother from the comfort of our house sees it as well.

Our father’s eyes are now alive again, the permanent frown his mouth resides in on every televised appearance loosens a bit, his brows aren’t knit so closely together any longer.

Caesar Flickerman sees the change too evidently.

“Look at those silver coins!” He bellows, gesturing for the cameras to put my father in a close up now. “They just lit up like the stars when talking about home. Tell me, Hunter Everdeen, how’s the family back in District Twelve?”

At that, my father makes a considerable effort to transform his entire expression into a mask of indifference. “They’re good,” he states evenly, his tone clipped. Making it blatant to even the airheaded Capitol citizens that he refuses to speak publicly about his family.

“Because you’re not property of the Capitol, baby,” he told me once, while on a walk in the woods. “You’re not anyone’s property.”

“What about you and mommy?”

“You’re our responsibility, but not our property.” He’d knelt down to my height, which happened to be the shortest in my second grade class. “Property implies ownership, Katniss. And no one owns you. No one owns you or your sister. Remember that for me. And never let yourself forget it.”

“You’re daughters are both old enough for the reaping, am I right?” Caesar presses further, and my sister and I automatically sigh. Knowing the response that’s bound to come.

“What’s wrong?” Peeta asks, as he still remains completely clueless. I shake my head instead of offering an explanation though, leaning further into his chest.

Peeta won’t understand. He was raised in town by merchants—the owners of the bakery, to be specific. He’s never understood the fierce protectiveness, the instantaneous fury, the irrational tunnel vision, that appears when a victor’s child is mentioned entering the games.

Peeta’s never even met my father. I’m not impatient by any stretch of the imagination to put the two of them in the same room, to watch my father chew my boyfriend up and devour him alive, to abide by his rules and regulations that will surely come with dating.

He doesn’t know Peeta and I have even so much as shaken hands. I’ve never so much as left him even the slightest hint. Not even when I’ve accompanied him to the bakery for the occasional trade with Peeta’s father, the baker himself.

Like both Prim and I predicted, our father is now on edge, his breathing uneven and his nostrils flaring. “Yes. Both my girls are of age,” he says after a long beat, his tone hard and jagged.

Caesar though is either oblivious or is extraordinarily practiced at appearing obtuse. “Well, wouldn’t it be something if either of them were chosen for the games? Am I right?” He directs his questions to the audience. “Don’t we all love a family story?” His words elicit cheers and hollers and a murderous glint in my father’s silver eyes. The camera only catches it for a moment’s time before quickly flitting away, towards the much more enjoyable image of the Captiolites chattering like chipmunks at the very idea.

And suddenly I feel Peeta’s arm tighten around me, the vision of me—the only person in the world he’s certain that he loves—being taken away from our home here in Twelve and tossed into an arena with kids twice her size, too much for even his naïve mind.

“Don’t we all believe in Mr. Everdeen,” the talk show host continues to push and I feel my typical annoyance with the odd man bleed into anger. “I mean, he brought home Mr. Abernathy here.” And with one single hand gesture from Caesar, the entire interview’s focus re-centers on Haymitch.

And unlike my father, he doesn’t even miss a beat before replying.

“Barely,” he mutters with a last swig of his drink, cleaning the glass. “And he was stingy with the gifts.”

Next to him, my father relaxes a bit. Haymitch always brings out a bit of levity in him, even on his worst days.

After all, in my father’s eyes, the paunchy drunk is a symbol of hope.

Haymitch is the only person my father’s ever brought him. He’s the only other living victor inside the confines of Twelve.

Not to mention his closest friend.

And my surrogate uncle, I note, a bit ironically. Haymitch and I have a far different relationship than he has with anyone else in my family but he’s always been there, has known me since the day I was born, often has dinner at our house, rain or shine, no matter how much he annoys my mother, and he’s an irreplaceable member of my family.

The audience is still riled up from Haymitch and howling with laughter—a bit too much, in my opinion—but my father can’t let the subject of his children go before adding one last sentiment.

“Don’t worry, Caesar. If either of my girls are reaped, trust me,” he states, louder and far more pronounced than anything else he’s said the entire interview. “They will be the victor. There’s not a tribute in the arena that would survive against my girl.”

For as long as I can remember, my father had taken me to the woods. He sometimes claims the first time he looked down at me in my mother’s arms, at a mere two days old, he saw a familiar hunger in my eyes.

Not a hunger for food. District Twelve is the smallest and the poorest in the country of Panem, but luckily, my family is one of the richest.

Unlike my schoolmates, I’ve never once had to worry about having enough to eat for lunch. My parents never worried that we’d starve to death or that Prim and I could be taken from their grasp by authorities. They never worried about supplying us with whatever we needed—they gave us more than we ever could have wanted—and they never had to fret that we’d be sent to the mines for work one day.

No, we were far too wealthy and far too famous for any of that.

But my parents had a far different batch of worries to keep them up at night. Not about food or finances or anything remotely common in Twelve.

No, they had to worry about cameras peaking into the privacy of our home and photos being taken without our knowledge and my face or Prim’s face being splashed across every magazine and newspaper in the country.

They worried about the almost insatiable thirst the Capitol seems to have for more family dynamics among the victors.

Especially after the recent back-to-back sibling victories led the hunger games to higher ratings and revenues in the Capitol.

When I was a child, my mother coached me to never go into town without my father by my side. Which sounds easy enough, until my father’s extensive vacations to the Capitol are taken into consideration. For as long as I can remember, my father would leave at random stretches of time, for weeks on end. To go play puppet for a population so dumb, so completely isolated from the rest of the country, that they took his anger for sarcasm. They took his bite as charm. They believed his glare was an act, was part of his appeal, when in reality my father had rebelled against performing for the last twenty-seven years.

When he was gone, our lives became strict. Bedtimes came earlier, curtains remained drawn day in and day out, our mother never wanted to sing or dance or even so much as smile with her husband gone.

But when he was home, sunshine peaked in our windows again. It danced on the floor and it swept us away with its gentle affection.

There was music and laughter and sweets and toys. He never returned from the Capitol empty-handed. He brought back expensive jewels for our mother, he built me and Prim a fancy treehouse in the backyard, put up a large, golden swing-set, went as far as purchasing as many cakes and breads as he could hold from the Mellark Bakery.

Peeta’s parents bakery.

Since I was two, further back than I can even retain, my father would take me out to the woods, would hold my hand and tell me old stories of District Twelve’s past, detail insane urban legends, teach me about plants and berries and trees and the direction of the wind.

And for as long as I can remember, I idolized him. He was so confident and so charismatic and so kind. For as long as I could remember, I wanted to be exactly like him when I grew up. It felt like an honor to me that I received far more his end of the gene line than my mother’s. She was regarded as a beauty in her youth, but he was one of the most magnificent people in the country. Having his coloring and the same silver eyes felt like a special gift, awarded every single time someone marveled at how similar we appear.

But my father was gone often and the unpredictable lengths of his stays in the large, foreign city was one of the only constants my family ever knew. So it really came as no surprise when my mother phoned the cabin only minutes after Caesar’s interview was over.

“I’ll get it,” Prim says flatly after a moment, throwing a sardonic glance at me and Peeta on the couch. Now in a much different entanglement than we had been while watching the talk-show.

“Thanks,” I murmur unintelligibly against Peeta’s mouth, before closing my eyes in pleasure.

“Don’t strain yourselves,” she can’t stop herself from tacking on the end.

“We’ll try not to while you’re still here,” Peeta murmurs cheekily, moving his lips downwards, towards my neck, right onto my pulse point. I let out a somewhat ridiculous squeak in response.

“Hello?” Prim says lightly into the receiver, already knowing it’s our mother. No one else calls this phone, inside this hidden cabin, located in the woods surrounding Twelve.

The woods in which officials fenced off years ago. The woods in which it’s illegal to enter. The woods in which my father has taken me to hunt for families less fortunate than ours since I was a small infant.

It’s not a typical cabin found in the outskirts of Twelve. No, ordinarily a cabin out here—a cabin anywhere in Panem, really—is nothing more than a broken down shack. There’s normally nothing other than an unsteady foundation, a freezing damp floor and an unlit fireplace.

But somewhere along the lines, in the years before I was born, my parents resurrected this place from the depths of despair and expanded it, rebuilt it, refurnished and redecorated and turned it into a vast, warm, safe second home for all of us to run away to when we felt the need.

Prim listens into the receiver for a long moment before she sighs deeply and beckons me. “Katniss, can you?”

Instantly, I break away from Peeta’s embrace, cupping his face and pulling him back from my collarbone.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as I scramble off the couch, my anxiety abruptly spiked. “Did something happen?” I search Prim’s eyes as I take the phone from her but, to my utter relief, all I find there is blatant, unmasked disappointment.

I already know what my mother is going to say before I put the phone to my ear. “Hi?”

“Hi, honey,” she murmurs, her voice both strained and higher than typical. Which indicates she’s trying to put up a front for us right now, when she’d rather be moping in bed. “Your father just called. Evidently Effie Trinket informed him he has more scheduled commitments to fulfill before he can come home.”

I deflate, already prepard, knowing this was coming. Isn’t it always coming inadvertently? My father has never been home when he was scheduled to be in my life. No matter the holiday, the birthday, the emergency or event, the Capitol demands that they comes first to him. Not even my birth could upstage his commitments. He wasn’t allowed to return home to Twelve, to meet his firstborn child, until his press events were done and over with.

It’s no wonder he refuses to put on show for those people.

“Okay,” I mumble after a moment, not even convinced my mother is even still there on the other end.

“It’ll be alright,” she says, as positively as she can. “He’ll be home as soon.”

“Yeah.” I try and fail miserably to match her tone. I inherited my father’s ability to act. Or inability, that is.

There’s the faint sound of crying in the background, and my heart aches a bit. “I’m sorry, honey, I have to go check on Archer,” she apologizes as a way of saying goodbye.

I make my way into the kitchen as soon as we hang up. Prim is standing by the counter, staring at the same magazine our father sent three weeks ago.

Peeta comes up behind me then, his hand rubbing my back in comforting circles. “Your father delayed again?”

I nod silently, as my eyes focused on my little sister now. She’s trying her best to hold back the upset that’s threatening to take over.

And without hesitation, my instincts to protect my family from anything and everything painful kick in. “Prim, it’s okay. It’s probably only going to be another week before he’s back,” I console, stepping closer to her small frame and touching her back.

It’s all the initiation she needs before spinning around into my arms and clinging onto me tight. “He’s never around,” she cries into my neck—I’m not much taller than her—as her shoulders shake with tears.

I feel Peeta’s eyes on me, measuring my reaction to Prim’s words. He’s heard me cry the same thing time and time again, he knows the familiarity of this scene better than anyone should.

“He tries his best, Prim,” I whisper thickly into her long, blonde hair. She’s fair and light, like our mother. Like a merchant or peacekeeper. Looking at my little sister, you’d never consider her to be the daughter of a man from the Seam.

But you’d easily believe that she was a girl raised in Victor’s Village and I suppose that’s what counts. Where we were raised and not where we could have been, if things had gone different.

“He’s never really going to be ours though,” she weeps and I don’t have words to comfort her now. Because she’s right.

Our father will always belong to the Capitol, first and foremost.

And not even his children can upstage that.

Prim leaves not long later, to head home to Victor’s Village and more than likely curl up with our mother for the night. They’ve both always been so alike, so much softer and more hopeful than me. I half expect every trip of our father’s to double in time, if not triple. After a lifetime of disappointments, I can’t help but prepare myself.

It’s not that they’re weak for believing. It’s that I have too much Hunter Everdeen in me. I have too much pessimism crawling inside my bones to ever fully trust that he’s really coming home until he’s already stepped off the train in Twelve.

Too many hours of my childhood were spent, wearing fancy stockings and warm, fur-lined coats, standing at the train station, only to welcome a load of cargo and no father in sight. Too many times were phone calls answered in tears. Too many night spent crying, clinging to my father’s hunting jacket, so disoriented by the hazardous schedule in which our lives were ran, waiting for my father to phone, waiting for him to walk through the front door, waiting for him to sneak up on us in the middle of the night or pull us from class on a school day.

That was the true constant in my life. Waiting for my father to finally come home, knowing every moment we shared was on borrowed time. Knowing that he’d never truly belong to us. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting to hear my mother’s bedroom door slam and lock, waiting to hear Prim cry or Archer wail, waiting to see that defeated glint in my father’s slate gaze.

I close the cabin door behind my sister now, knowing with confidence that she’ll make it home alright, even with the sun currently setting in the faded blue sky.

Our father never took Prim hunting like he did me, never brought her out to the woods and taught her to shoot a bow and arrow, never showed her how to trap and kill an animal. But even still, the path from the cabin to our home in Victor’s Village is imprinted in our brains, like a birthmark or tattoo. We’d be able to find our way to and from, even if we were sleepwalking.

As would Peeta. Considering this is the place he spends the majority of his time.

Considering this cabin may as well be his permanent address.

And if it weren’t illegal, it very well might be, I think to myself wryly as I walk over to where he’s leaning against the doorframe now.

“Hello,” I greet again, hopping onto my tiptoes and kissing his lips lightly.

He grasps my hips, smiling against my mouth. “Don’t you have to get home too?” He hesitantly asks, his desire to keep me here bleeding through every caress of his fingers, as they trail underneath my loose shirt, sliding upwards and causing an electric current to ripple through the core of my body.

But I just shake my head at his inquiry, moving my mouth from his to kiss down the side of his face, underneath his jawline.

“Mmm,” he moans after a long moment, before suddenly putting a few more inches between us. “Are you sure your mother won’t miss you?”

Peeta’s always been considerate of my mother. Too considerate sometimes, if I do say so myself. Bordering on obsessive.

He is obsessed with keeping her approval, with never crossing any invisible line, with never even so much as mildly exasperating her.

I suppose it’s only natural though. She is the only parental figure he has in his life.

I’ve never been too enthusiastic to introduce him to my father and he’s never pushed the issue too far. Hunter Everdeen is a practical legend around Twelve—and beloved across the entirety of Panem—but he’s the reason, I’ve always privately felt, that I was isolated from all my classmates.

Sure, I’m already not the most friendly person to start with, in anyone’s book. As Haymitch never hesitates to tell me. But there was already very little chance of me making friends in school anyway. Being the victor of the Forty-Seventh Hunger Games’ child dropped the chances of play-dates or sleepovers drastically. My father trusts no one. Not with his children.

And I didn’t mind for the most part. I’m too like him to enjoy people much anyway. This whole notion was much harder on Prim, who adored her fellow classmates and easily endeared herself to them as well. But no matter how darling my little sister may be, nothing changed our father’s mind and when he was set on something, it was practically written in stone.

I can’t even imagine how Peeta must feel, having to live in fear for the entire last year of our little secret being exposed. I may be nervous about how my father will react, but Peeta has to be outright petrified.

“My mother will be fine,” I murmur, rolling my eyes as I lean back against the wall now. “She’s got Prim and Archie to keep her sane until my father’s home.”

Peeta chuckles at me, a mirthful smile in his eyes. “And you got me,” he teases, tapping my nose with his finger.

I giggle in a way I withheld until Prim left. I wasn’t about to give her ammunition to mock me later on. “All to myself,” I add, matching his expression now. “For unlimited hours of the day.”

“That’s my girl, looking on the bright side.”

I snort. “Yeah, that’s me.” I’m the exact opposite of an optimist. I prefer expecting the worse and setting expectations low. Maybe it’s a learned behavior but, at least that way, I’m not crushed like my mother when things don’t pan out the way I want.

Peeta mistakes the look on my face to be one of hidden disappointment. “You’re father will be home soon, sweetheart. They can’t keep him in the Capitol forever.”

“Can’t they?” I mumble, not expecting an answer. Before he can offer one—because Peeta is nothing if not a fixer—I quickly segue to a new topic. “Where do you think you’ll go when my father does come home?”

He just shrugs the question off though, completely unbothered. “Anywhere but home,” he says simply, his stunning blue eyes clear as the sky they remind me of.

“Anywhere but there,” I agree, my smile twisting into a grimace.

A year ago, when I was barely fifteen, President Snow—Panem’s true Gamemaker, my father always said—demanded every victor extend their stay in the Capitol, even after the games ended that year. He gave no outright reason and my father was cagey to speak on the subject, but in the end, the president’s word was law and there was no room for argument. President Snow can demand of us whatever he wishes.

It was a cold, dreary autumn that year, with early snowfall, which was the leading cause to the significant increase in accidents and injuries. My mother, the born healer, had more patients than she could handle, and even while training Prim as her assistant, she required my help. I was to head to town and purchase a list of herbs from the apothecary shop her parents still owned. The people who disowned her, who had little to no interest in her after she married a man from the Seam, victor or not. The people who never cared to meet their own grandchildren, to acknowledge our existence even as we passed right by their shop, in their plain sight.

I was dragging my feet the entire walk there, already with a sour taste in my mouth, when I heard the loudest wail my ears had every registered. When I heard sharp words being screamed out, when the sound of a boy sobbing filled the air.

And my instincts took over, my every sense focused on finding the hurt and helping them, altogether forgoing the trip for my mother’s herbs.

I followed the commotion to the bakery’s backdoor. Right through the open threshold, it was crystal clear, the baker’s wife—the witch, as many of the kids at school referred to her—had beaten her youngest son senselessly.

He’s in my year, I’d realized abruptly, staring with an agape mouth at his bloody face. His eye was swelling and his nose and lip were smeared scarlet and the only thing that crossed my mind at first, was I recognized him as the blonde boy with the colorful notebook, who could never meet my eyes and always wore long sleeves.

Of course, I snapped out of the daze after only a moment. The witch turned and caught sight of me, snapping that no Seam brat was going to get any free handouts from her and to scatter before she called the Peacekeepers.

Something about the unmasked prejudice against the Seam, a place where people in Twelve had next to nothing and were seen as lesser than the merchants, jolted me into action.

“Get your hand off him!” I’d demanded, using my entire body weight, just as my father taught me, to push the door open as she tried to close it in my face. “Let him go or I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

At that, I heard an ugly laugh and the door flew open again, my exerted force throwing it back into the wall.

“I’m serious, child,” she snaps, her blue eyes narrow and her mouth in a snide smirk. “I will call the Peacekeepers to remove you from my shop-”

I didn’t even let her finish. I wasn’t one to be messed with. Not when I just witnessed something awful firsthand, not when I had it in my power to do something.

I knew then I couldn’t bring my father home. He was owned by the president and the Capitol. To an extent, we all were. And I knew I couldn’t stop the games from happening or the possibility of my name being pulled from the reaping bowl. I couldn’t always make my mother come out of her room or even out of her bed, when her illness struck bad. And I couldn’t stop my siblings from crying for our father at night.

But I knew that day in the bakery, I had the power over Mrs. Mellark and I wasn’t going to let her get away with hurting her son anymore.

“Call them,” I dared, not an ounce of insecurity in my voice. “Cray is an old family friend.” He was actually indebted to my father, who’d kept the man’s secrets for too many years to count. But family friend rolled off the tongue more effectively.

“Head Peacekeeper is now making friends in the Seam?” She spat in disbelief. “No wonder this district is so rundown.”

She laughed humorlessly, but my focus was pulled towards the boy. He was covering the left side of his face, as if it hurt too badly to release. As if he was trying to stop his eye from swelling, stop his nose from gushing blood. As if he could hold his now split lip together with nothing more than the palm of his hand.

The sight hurt my heart to see. It burned a fire inside of me that only a true injustice could set alight.

“My father is Hunter Everdeen,” I snapped in the woman’s direction, not even basking in satisfaction when her face drained of all color. The idea that a scrappy little girl with olive skin and dark hair was the child of the most powerful man in all of Twelve struck a cord inside even the witch. “Still wanna make that call?”

The woman’s face was caught between anger and shock when I glanced at her again. And I hated her for it. I hated her and every single person in this district who hurt their kids, who took out their grievances on them, who made them cower and quiver in fear. Who raised them to be afraid of those they loved in a world already so awful.

I know I live a privileged life but, deep in my bones, I know even if things were different, my parents wouldn’t have laid a hand on us. Even if we were so poor I had to take tesserae, even if we were starving to the point of no return, even if we were practically homeless in the Seam, my parents would never hurt us.

“Leave,” the witch spoke then, but her voice was void of all emotion.

“Not without him,” I refused, my eyes planted on the wounded boy in front of me. The boy who was doing everything to avoid looking me in the eye, too busy covering his battered face.

I heard a sound caught between a groan and a shriek, before a cutting board was tossed across the room. “Just go!” She shouted at her son, causing him to flinch severely. “Just go with her!”

On her order, which sounded more distraught than angry, the boy had stormed out the back door and into the chilly evening air, still covering his face desperately, still looking utterly ashamed.

But he waited for me to catch up with him. He waited for me to guide him away from that awful woman he was forced to call his mother.

He didn’t flinch when I touched his arm nor when I took his hand. And when I led him away from the town and towards the village, he followed me without complaint.

Actually, he followed me without a single word.

I realized this just as my house came into view. “You never told me your name?” I whispered, looking up at him gently.

He had tears leaking from his eyes that he was doing his best to ignore, the bleeding on the left side of his face had barely even lightened up, his eye was swelling bigger and bigger, and yet, he chuckled a little at the question. “I’ve been in your class since kindergarten, Katniss.”

I felt my cheeks burn pink, even under the darkening sky. “I know.” But I still peered up at him, curiously waiting for him to tell me.

“It’s Peeta,” he finally answered, maybe a bit satirical.

“Peeta Mellark,” I suddenly recognized.

“Mhmm. Figured you’d pick up the last name.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s printed across the bakery in huge letters?”

“Oh.” He chuckled at my ignorance, causing my blush to deepen.

And I realized immediately how much I liked the sound of his laugh. How I liked being the reason for the sound.

My stomach did a complete flip at the notion and my ears abruptly felt hot, but I tried to push all this away, needing to get him to my mother.

“Wait,” he halted before I could even reached the front door. “Is your mother in there?”

I shot him a confused look. “Yeah, of course? Who else-”

I didn’t even get a chance to finish though. “I really don’t want anyone else to know about this,” he pleads, his eyes looking as frightened as they did with the witch.

“Peeta-” I start, opening my mouth argue, to convince him to go into the house and let my mother treat his injuries. To let me get him help.

But one look inside his desolated, defeated, terrified eyes and I couldn’t make myself do it. I couldn’t put him through any more than he’d already gone through. Not when he’d eventually have to go face the witch again at home.

“Okay,” I whispered, and I felt him squeeze the hand I didn’t realize I was still clutching. “Let me take you somewhere else. And I’ll try to fix you up myself.”

I wasn’t a healer like my mother and Prim. I was a hunter, just like my father, just like his very name, through and through. But I had witnessed enough of what my mother did—my father had forced me to witness enough of what she did, in case I ever needed the knowledge—and I was confident I had the expertise to help him.

My decision was validated by the relief in Peeta’s eyes, by the visible exhale he expelled from inside. He was ashamed, I realized, of his abuse. He was embarrassed to let anyone know what was happening behind closed doors.

I guided him by the hand outside the village, through the Seam—a place in which he’d never been before—and to the fence line.

“Isn’t it electrified?” He asked, his grip on my palm tightening. I liked the sensation for some reason. I liked the way his big hand felt wrapped around my small one. I liked how he wanted to hold onto me in the darkness.

“Nope,” I say, and let out a proud giggle. Or maybe a nervous one. Whenever I think back to this night, I can never tell.

“How do you know?” His blonde eyebrows knit together, still afraid in a way I’d never had to be. My father had taught me everything there was to know about the woods from a young age.

“Listen,” I urge softly, leaning my ear towards the fence.

He cranes forward too, waiting for the buzz of electricity to fill his ears. Only, just as I knew, it never does. Because it never has. The fence’s electricity was shut off long before we were even born.

I watched as his face registered the silence, as he realized and trusted I was right. And I beamed at him, before showing him the way my father slips beyond the fence and guiding him through the trees, towards the cabin, buried deep inside the woods.

It took an hour to find, not because of the blackened sky, but because Peeta’s face hurt so badly that his gait was slowed. But I remained patient, even though that was never my strong suit either. I waited for him to pick up the pace, to be ready to move, to find our way through the tall green trees. I pulled all the branches I could see out of his path, used the moon as our flashlight and didn’t complain once when he stumbled along the way.

By the time we got to the cabin, it had to be past Archer’s bedtime. My mother would be worried sick for me, but I soothed myself that she had plenty on her plate. I’m her firstborn. The child she understands the least, the one who’s like her husband in body and soul. I knew I was probably near the bottom of her worry list.

The very first thing I did when we entered the cabin was order Peeta to sit down in the dining room. I gathered my mother’s first aid kit from the bathroom, wet a rag in cool water and I got to work cleaning the blood from his face.

“This has to be gross for you,” he murmurs after a long stretch of silence. His eyes betrayed how self-conscious he must have felt.

Trying to alleviate his anxiety, I pretended to shrug it off. “My mother cleans wounds all the time. At our kitchen table, no less.”

Peeta made a noise that indicated he didn’t buy my act of ease. “I heard at school that you run from the sick and injured.”

I raised my eyebrows at the comment. No one at school talked about me. No one knew me well enough to. People stopped trying to get close to any of Hunter Everdeen’s kids years ago.

The longer I stared at Peeta in disbelief, the more he seemed to lose confidence in his statement. “Maybe I didn't hear it,” he finally amended. I brought the damp cloth back up to his face again as a reward, tenderly wiping away the blood, before using the clean side to set against his swelling lid, hoping to offer some pain reduction there as well. “Maybe I saw it,” he added sheepishly.

I furrowed my brows, even more perplexed by the elaboration. “Saw it?”

“When Leaf Barker tripped and broke his knee in Physical Education last year? You were almost green when you bolted out of the gymnasium.”

His words conjured up a vague image. Still though, something about this felt odd to me.

“How do you remember that better than I do?”

At that, Peeta shrugged. “I guess, I notice you sometimes?”

“What do you mean, sometimes?” I pressed, none of his words suddenly making a bit of sense.

“Why did you stick up for me tonight?” He abruptly segued, his expression shifting into something of defense, like he’s trying to deflect.

But I’m not one to be deterred. “I wasn’t going to stand there and watch your mother hurt you,” I stated, my voice remaining firm. “Why?”

He continued to walk around my question. “Is tonight the first night you ever noticed me?”

I pulled my hand and the damp cloth away from his wounded face, reaching in the kit to grab a white cream I’d seen my mother and Prim both use on swelling before. “Yes,” I finally replied, because I don’t know what else to say. That I saw him glance at me sometimes and then watched as his eyes flit away? That I noticed how he doodled in math class, because he found the subject boring? That I’d seen him lift a sack easily over his shoulder at the bakery and watched him beat almost every upperclassmen at wrestling, even while three years their junior?

None of that seems even remotely relevant to mention.

“When was the first time you noticed me?” I shot back, still being careful to apply the cream with only the lightest pressure to his battered eye.

“Kindergarten,” he instantly blurted out, his tone simple and bold.

I stared at him in disbelief for a long moment before chuckling, catching the joke. “Funny.”

“I’m serious,” he refuted, peaking his good eye open, the sky meeting a silver dollar as our gaze locked. And I see that he is serious somehow.

“What?”

“The first day of kindergarten,” he continued, after a long beat of me just staring him. His confidence had wavered once again and he was looking a bit regretful that he’d put this out in the open. “You were wearing a red velvet dress and brown stockings. Your hair was in two braids instead of one and your ribbons matched your dress. The teacher asked during music assembly who knew The Valley Song and your hand shot right up. She put you on a stool and you sang it, clear as day, for everyone to hear. Even the birds outside stopped to listen. And from that moment on… I was a goner.”

I just continued to look at him in disbelief, unable to put the pieces of what he’s said together. Finally, I whispered, “you’re telling the truth?”

“I’ve had a crush on you for forever,” he admitted, his singularly open eye giving away his nerves at the admission. “And I know you probably don’t feel the same way. I know you didn’t even know my name until tonight but I just wanted to say, in case we never have the chance to speak again-”

“Stop,” I cut him off, my mind already about to explode. “Stop, um…” I refused to look at him as I spoke, furiously staring down at my lap. “I need more time to… process this.”

He had a crush on me since the first day of kindergarten? He’d heard me sing and from that day forward he held a hidden candle for me?

And he never once worked up the courage to talk to me?

Dozens of moments suddenly race through my mind.

Cerulean blue eyes finding me in a crowd countless times and then pulling away as soon as I meet them. The time I wanted to play a stupid game at recess and a stocky blonde boy volunteered to be team captain, and then picked me first. The stunning drawing I found in my locker last year on Sweetheart’s Day, that I was convinced was put there by mistake, though it bore a striking resemblance to the doodles on Peeta’s notebook.

And before I could stop it, I felt myself begin to shake with nerves.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he apologized, seeing my frightened reaction. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just… I didn’t know if I’d ever get the opportunity to tell you again-”

“Shhh,” I hushed, picking up the damp cloth once more. “Let me take care of your face. And then…” I hesitated again, unsure what to say in this situation. I had exactly zero experiences to compare this to. “Tomorrow we can talk more.”

Peeta nodded amicably, staying silent for the reminder of my ministrations. I felt a terrible pang of guilt for not responding the way he’d probably hoped, but there was still a part of me too stunned to even fully register the confession.

I was an outcast. I’d never fit in with the kids at school, neither town or Seam. I don’t look like the merchants and I’m too rich for the Seam folk. I would have been alone all the time at school if it weren’t for Madge Undersee, the mayor’s daughter who sat with me at lunch and partnered with me in class.

How could anyone have even noticed me to be anything other than strange? I barely spoke, even in classes where I knew all the answers. And I hardly participated in games or gossip. I had a father who insisted most days on picking me up himself from school, not allowing me to walk home alone like the other kids.

But the look in Peeta’s eyes was earnest. He wasn’t playing some elaborate trick on me, he wasn’t trying to coerce me into confessing something as well so he could humiliate me. He was being genuine in every way I could tell. And I had my father’s senses.

The same senses that helped him win his hunger games.

A new thought struck me out of the blue. Peeta seemed too kind and too considerate to have a mother who beat him like this. He doesn’t fit the profile of the kids in the community home, brought there by even less abuse than I witnessed firsthand tonight.

The insane urge to get to know him more, to learn more about this complete stranger who I went out on an impulsive limb for suddenly surges through my brain.

It wouldn’t be a good idea, I told myself. He’s a merchant and I’m the daughter of a victor. Two titles that seem not far apart in theory but are miles away from the other in practice. And I’m not experienced with people the way he is. I don’t know how to make friends or how to maintain them. I don’t know what he expects from me but it’s surely more than I know how to give. I don’t know what to say in a situation like this. Haymitch always tells me I’m as romantic as dirt.

But is that what I want to be? I asked myself as I finished fixing Peeta up. Do I want to be romantic? Do I want to be that girl who holds her boyfriend’s hand in the town square and kisses him under the moonlight? Do I want to put an embroidered ribbon in my hair and wear an expensive dress from the Capitol to go to the Sweetheart’s Dance? Do I want to sneak in through my bedroom window at the crack of dawn so my father won’t know I’ve been out all night?

If I could learn to be romantic, would I want to be?

And naturally, the answer I’ve always known automatically seeps through my brain. No. I’m not like my mother and Prim. I’m practical by nature, rather than fanciful. I’ve never truly obsessed about falling in love or fawned over even the most incredible looking men on the television.

But something held me back now. Something inside me said that answer, the truth I’d always known, is suddenly not entirely accurate anymore.

Because I find that I did want those things I just described. I did want to have someone to hold, someone to laugh with, someone who conjured up that same flip in my stomach as Peeta did earlier when he laughed.

I wanted the same kind of love my parents had. The kind of love that brought them both to life, despite the horrible circumstances they’d both separately endured. I wanted the kind of love that they showed me was possible, even in a world as bleak and as inhumane as Panem felt at times.

I only realized how long I’d been silent, contemplating my inner desires, when Peeta offered a minuscule smile and stood up slowly to leave.

I opened my mouth to speak but when his eyes met mine, every thought in my head was magically wiped away. I had nothing to say, nothing that could be of any sort of consequence, that could mean anything in comparison to his confession.

“I should head back to town,” he murmured, trying to appear nonchalant. “Face my mother. Hope she’s in a better mood now-”

But I couldn’t stand the idea of him returning to the witch, the idea of going to school tomorrow and acting like his words weren’t still spinning around my brain, the idea of even sleeping soundly tonight.

“Peeta,” I called just as he was about to reach the front door. “Wait!”

He turned towards me, looking puzzled by my outburst. “What’s wrong?”

And I don’t know what came over me. I still can’t place what made me—a girl who had never been decisive a day in her life—fling myself across the room and smash my lips onto his.

He didn’t respond at first. I caught him too completely by surprise. His lips hung there, frozen, as mine pushed against his, with too much force and an overload of desperation.

But I felt an incredible stirring in my chest, an odd sensation that felt akin to a giggle amplified.

And when he finally recovered from the shock of it all, his hands both came to rest on either side of my hips, his mouth began to move against mine, his knees bent to reach my height with more success, and the stirring turned to a fiery spark. I know he felt it too, as the kiss was swiftly disturbed by his wide grin.

“Don’t go back home tonight,” I gasped out, looking up at him, wide-eyed and breathless.

His gaze melted as he took me in, he head bobbing in agreement without even needing to consider my request.

“Okay,” he’d whispered with a dazed smile, his blue eyes impossibly wild and sleepy at the same time.

His expression, his spirit somehow, was contagious, and I found myself somewhere stuck between a laugh and a blush when I replied.

“Okay.”

After that night, Peeta rarely went back home. I had called my mother and let her know I was staying at the cabin, but intentionally eluded telling her that the baker’s son was joining me. We’d spent the entire night talking in front of the fire, making each other laugh. The bashfulness I felt from my unexpected kiss stayed in my gut, causing me to bubble up with embarrassed laughter every so often.

But instead of that making things awkward, it cut the tension pretty smoothly. It was only months later did Peeta confess he’d felt just as nervous and just as shy about spending time with me. He was charismatic, I realize even that first night. Ironically funny. He was nice, in a way I rarely have found anyone to be. And, the more time went on, the more my desire grew to stay close to him. The more often I was around him, the more painfully I missed him when we were apart.

It was only a matter of time until my mother found out—not least of all, because my siblings accidentally caught us kissing in back of the school, a month to the day we first spoke.

I always imagined she’d be strict on me, the firstborn, when it came to dating. Especially in the world we lived in. Especially with my father’s position. I truly thought she’d forbid a relationship until I was of age. Maybe I was wrong about her. Or maybe she just saw how I looked at Peeta and understood that I wasn’t just being careless or rebellious. That whatever magnetic connection I felt towards Peeta wasn’t just an ordinary school-aged fling.

To my surprise as well, my mother seemed to take on a very similar stance to me when it came to Peeta and my father. Keeping the news of this entanglement from her husband’s ears was almost her idea.

“What are you thinking about?” Peeta asks me now, bringing me back to the present moment. His fingers tickle my neck as they brush my hair back behind my ear, touching one of the satin green ribbons weaved throughout my loose braids.

“You,” I reply coyly, shooting him a sly glance as I slip past him to head back towards the kitchen.

“Me?” He calls in mock disbelief. He trails up behind me, catching me by the waist and swinging me into his arms without warning.

“Peeta!” I exclaim, automatically wrapping myself around him as I try to steady my balance midair.

“What, baby?”

“Put me down, baby,” I mock, pressing my nose to his now, rubbing them together.

“I like holding you though,” he whispers, like he’s confessing some huge secret.

“Until your arms gets tired-”

“That was one time, Katniss.”

“I’m just reminding you,” I say with an air of superiority. “You don’t always appreciate holding me.”

At that, his demeanor falls a little. “I do when I realize I won’t be seeing you much in a few days.”

I feel my heart sink now too. As excited as I am at the prospect of my father coming home, after weeks apart, I always have to be a little more careful upon his first days back.

He always likes to spend time at the cabin and go for long walks in the woods upon his return. Spend more time in nature than the indoors, stay far away from people outside our family, sleep under the stars by the lake. The Capitol is apparently luxurious, but in my father’s own words, it is void of any true or natural beauty. Everything is artificial, man-made, concocted and orchestrated. There’s nothing that compares in his mind—or mine either—to a cool breeze on a sunny day spent in the meadow where the dandelions grow tall.

“But I’ll still see you in school?” I say, though my voice comes out as more of a plea. Peeta doesn’t always like to attend school these days, not when he knows his parents can easily track him down there.

His father, the baker himself, took the ambiguous loss of his youngest—his favorite—son particularly hard. It was only a matter of weeks after I intercepted his mother beating him that Peeta definitively decided to sever ties with majority of his family.

I’d like to say he made the choice all on his own but that’d be a lie. I watched as the physical bruises on his skin healed, as he began to peel back emotional layer upon layer to me, as he slowly told me what really had been going on in the Mellark’s family home. And I can’t say that I was impartial to his decision to cut the connection to a mother with a bruising fist and a father who closed his eyes and let it happen.

“Delly’s parents usually make me go to school so…” He shrugs it off, like it’s of no consequence, his arms hoisting me higher against his chest.

But I feel a sudden wave of gratitude towards the Cartwrights. They may be a little too jolly for my liking and their daughter, Delly, maybe can’t take a hint to save her life, but at least they always watch out for Peeta’s well-being. At least they cover for him when his mother come sniffing around and they feed him what they can afford and force him to attend class, where I’ll be able to see him.

“Good,” I murmur, at peace now. My father will be home soon and Peeta will be safely tucked away with his best friend.

I lean down and kiss his nose sweetly, reveling in the tender moment. His lips follow my lead and begin to plant themselves across my chin, underneath my jaw, causing me to squirm and squeal at the sensation.

“So,” he murmurs against my throat. “We have the entire place to ourselves, for the whole night, huh?”

His audacious smile elicits my own. “At least.” My father’s delays usually mean a minimum of two days.

Within a minute, Peeta has me on my back, against the softly quilted bed of my upstairs room. He takes his time helping me out of my clothes before I hurriedly shove his off, impatient and hungry.

He, of course, finds time to crack a joke. “Good thing Archie is too young to come here unchaperoned. Or else we’d never get the chance to do this.”

I roll my eyes and shove his mouth off my collarbone, utterly disgusted now. “Talking about my baby brother is one sure way to turn me off, Peeta.”

Archer, my three-old-brother, was an unexpected surprise, to put it lightly. My parents were done with two girls. My father joked him and my mother were both already set with one clone each, but alas, the year of the Seventieth Hunger Games was a year full of shocks.

A few months before the games that year, the coal mines—the industry Twelve is known for—exploded. Right in the middle of the afternoon, as everyone was obliviously going about their day.

It was a close call for many and one more reason my father is beloved around these parts. If he hadn’t been at the right place, at the right time, if he hadn’t volunteered to go with Prim and her class on a field trip down to the mines that day, there was a chance that no one would have noticed the gas leak.

It was too late to do anything by the time my father pointed it out, but his warning and the fact that people in Twelve take his word very seriously, managed to save the lives the inevitable explosion would have otherwise cost.

Through the outpouring of gratitude, and the overwhelming media coverage my whole family was abruptly bombarded with, my parents made the decision to pull me and Prim from school for a while, to hole up in the remodeled cabin, where no one could find us because of its illegal location.

I’ve never ask and I don't ever want to know when my parents conceived Archer. But about nine months after the vacation from the world, my mother gave birth to a little boy who looked identical to me and my father.

“Sorry,” Peeta whispers with a chuckle, collapsing beside me. “I’ll make it up to you.”

He moves to kiss my stomach, to trace circles on my hips like he always does. But I shake my head, a different request—or more like it, demand—on my mind.

“Tell me the story of how you first fell in love with me?”

Peeta rolls his eyes. Very dramatically. “You mean a year ago?”

“I mean in kindergarten,” I say with a smirk and then let out a shriek of surprise when he pounces on me, his lips attacking my neck.

“Aren’t you tired of that story yet?” He asks, his voice edging on exasperated.

“You never tire of a classic.” I give him a pout, knowing he never refuses me anything when I pull that trick.

I’m right, as per usual. “Fine,” he relents, but his eyes tell me that he enjoys telling this tale more than he leads on. “Come here.” He holds open his arms and waits for me to crawl into them, to settle against his chest.

I lay there for a long moment, my pointer finger running up and down the center of his bicep, as my ear rests against his heartbeat, patiently waiting for him to begin.

“It was the very first day of school. You were wearing a red, velvet dress…”

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#katnissmellarkkkk #prompt 59 #Springtime edition 2021 #submission

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