#found a place with easy route to and from

[skunkes]

[babystarbun]

fucking you right— j.jk

pairing— alpha!jungkook x omega!reader

genre— abo, dubcon, smut, stepcest, MDNI!

word count— 6400

warnings— fondling/body inspection, slut shaming, mentions of being drugged(not by jungkook), somnophilia, size difference, big dick jungkook, degradation, unprotected sex, rough sex, squirting, breeding

‘Watch over your sister for me, yeah? I really didn’t want you brats to come along on my honeymoon but her mom insisted.’

‘Step-sister.’

Jungkook curses under his breath, lathering his chest with sun protection from the pool chair he’s been glued to while silently watching you prance around flirting with every damn Alpha in sight.

This is fucking ridiculous. 

He tried to argue with his father, exclaiming loudly that he’s no one’s babysitter. He’s too old for this shit, you are too old for this shit. Only to get shut down immediately and reprimanded for being so insolent. 

It’s only been 3 months since your parents mated and decided to take the traditional human route. An absurdly overpriced wedding ceremony and luxury cruise honeymoon, one that he had zero interest in being a part of, and yet here he is. Against his will.

‘Not everyone can be lucky enough to bring their kids along on a once in a lifetime vacation like this.’ Your mom had said with a huge smile, squeezing you against her side while Jungkook’s father grimaced and forced a pleased grin onto his unenthused face. 

Kids? He’s a fucking grown ass man. Not his fault that piled up student loans have screwed him out of the opportunity to move out sooner. He’s not the one that insisted on becoming a doctor. 

‘No son of mine will embarrass my name with some bullshit nonsensical career. Medical school is the only option unless you plan to find your ass on the street in a few weeks.’ 

God, his dad can be such a fucking dickhead.

The last thing Jungkook wanted was to spend a week stuck on a cruise ship with you of all people. Even worse when he found out you’d be sharing a room together. At least he got to claim the bed closest to the window, not that looking out of a cruise ship did much other than make his stomach turn upside down. 

This is seriously miserable. And of course you managed to pack nothing but the skimpiest summer outfits. If your parents weren’t so busy holed up together likely fucking like rabid newlyweds(disgusting), he’s sure that your mother would have some choice words for your attire.

“Should you really be wearing that?” He snickered at you this morning. Still laying in bed when you exited the bathroom with your hair and face all dolled up. Nothing but a string bikini and sheer sarong hung on your hips. “It’s 9 in the morning.”

“We’re on a cruise and it’s mid-August. Just because you like to create a sauna for your balls in those baggy sweats doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t enjoy summer.” You shot him a glare before sliding on a pair of sunglasses. Flicking your hair over your shoulder and exiting your shared room without another glance. “Later loser.”

Really, he should slap you. Right on the ass. It’s not as if you have any problem showing it off. Especially not around the hungry unmated Alphas that have started to swarm around you at the pool currently. His father would probably pat him on the back for putting you in your place, someone has to. Who knows when the last time was that you had a real Alpha in your life that corrected this foul behavior for you. Heaven knows your mother is much too clueless to bother punishing you for acting like such a..

“Slut.” He scoffs quietly, rolling his eyes. Another young, unmated, handsome Alpha approaches you, easily gliding an arm around your waist with a huge grin on his face that you reciprocate. This has to be the seventh guy that’s approached you in only the last 2 hours now. It can’t seriously be this easy..

It’s annoying more than anything to listen to you squeak out little playful screams, soft breathy giggles, utilizing your loose hands to grab onto the many different bulging biceps attempting to latch around you. Jungkook can’t help but to feel more and more enraged the longer he sits here watching. God, you haven’t even noticed him. 

He can’t stand to watch this bullshit for much longer. His dad had bribed him with limitless spa visits and bar access anyway for agreeing to come.

He sighs and hesitantly gets up, sauntering his way over to you. Taking a hold of your elbow from behind, he pulls you against his chest. “Hey you.” He says flatly, tone low and serious.

“Huh? Ew, get off of me!”

Jungkook’s ready to tell you off, only to be stopped by 2 large Alphas that shove him back. “Hey man! You heard her!”

“Stop stop!” You intervene before they can pummel him into smithereens. “He’s my step-brother.”

A silent ominous dread passes between the two of you, catching each other's gaze for only a few fleeting seconds before looking away. “Whatever.” He mutters, carelessly waving you off. “Hope they do something unforgivable to you.”

He’ll regret whispering that if any of these brutes touch you without your consent. They shouldn’t. They don’t even know or care about you. Not that he does either.. but he knows you well enough to know that these aren’t the Alphas you should be wasting your time with.

The bar calls to him, charging his way towards the one far away from the pool area. His march slows down, coming to a halt mid-hallway to shove his head inside of a dark room full of neon lights and rapid clicking sounds.

“Gaming room?!” Leave it to his father to fail to mention this ship has a huge fucking arcade. He’s always hated Jungkook’s lifelong gaming addiction. Knowing his son, he’d predict for him to be holed up in here the entire trip instead of enjoying his vacation.

Hours and hours fly by as he competes with the other losers holed up in the ships arcade. Young men with no interest in burning off their first layer of skin out on deck. He plays well into the evening until his hand starts to cramp up and he envisions a clear future of himself 50 years down the line with a permanently claw shaped grip.

“I should head out.” He announces. Bowing before parting ways with the new group of shipmates he befriended while playing, mentioning to catch up with them tomorrow. He walks out toward the room he’s sharing while rubbing at his stomach. Definitely missed dinner while lost in an intense brawl in Street Fighter, room service would have to do.

He’s starving actually, the more he thinks about it. You had a lot of snacks when you unpacked, maybe he could sneak something for himself. By now you’re probably locked up in some Alphas room doing what he refuses to let his mind imagine.

The last thing he’d expect to see when unlocking the door is you laid out in bed, flat on your stomach and fast asleep. Still in your tiny bathing suit, curled up like a kitten breathing softly. It takes him aback for a few seconds, gripping onto the door frame as he takes in your manicured toenails, smooth waxed limbs, and the pert round of your ass jutted out so nicely. Locking the door behind him, he recalls his father’s words to watch out for you, make sure you stay out of trouble.

Something about how a pretty little Omega like you is susceptible to dangerous Alphas wanting nothing more than to bite into your supple flesh. To mark you as theirs.

Jungkook should check, make sure his dads worries have not come true. That’s the only reason he gingerly lifts your ankle up and smooths his palm up your calf. Slowly tracing up the muscle in search of any markings that could indicate an Alpha attempted to claim you as theirs.

It’s amazing how silky soft your skin feels, not a single bump or even a slight hint of stubble. You really must have gotten waxed before venturing out on this trip, which only makes him wonder if you opted for a full body service. That would only make sense, what with the 10 different stringy bikini sets he watched you pull out of your luggage. 

“Hmm,” pushing your thighs apart, he climbs onto the bed. Knees sinking into the mattress between your spread open legs. 

Inner-thigh would be a prime area for any Alpha to leave a mark. Something not too obvious that reeks of ownership. “Nothing.”

Not a single mark on your smooth skin, so easily rippling under his touch. Sinking and kneading his fingertips into the meaty flesh lining your upper thigh, he can’t stop the sigh that exits his mouth. Leaning down closer to untie your sarong.

You must have come back from the pool all heat exhausted and knocked out. Good thing, because any Alpha would be too tempted around an Omega so innocently vulnerable like this. Not Jungkook though, he’d never do anything to hurt you. That’s why he has taken it upon himself to watch after you, his precious baby step-sister. Because who better than him to make sure a bratty Omega like you knows her place? 

Oh what’s that? Is that..

“Bite marks.” He sneers, pushing your buttcheeks open to get a full look at what looks like indentations left behind on the top of your left ass cheek. Who the fuck have you been allowing to mark up your otherwise flawless complexion?

Right on your ass? You fucking slut. 

He licks at his teeth out of hunger, sitting back on his haunches and bending in even closer for a real magnified look. Cupping your ass and pushing your butt apart, he buries his fingers into your buttcheeks. The tip of his round nose brushes along the backs of your thighs. Squinting at your rim covered only by a small teenie lycra material that flexes with each rough massage from his hands.

They could be teeth marks, maybe a light scratch. Maybe his heated up brain is playing tricks on him. Either way, one thing is for certain, no one should be leaving a mark on you. No one except him.

“Jungkook?” Your groggy confused voice opens his eyes wide and full. Looking up over the roundness of your bottom, he catches your gaze momentarily. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done weeks ago.”

Jungkook gulps, shaking his head rapidly with his back pressed to the door. He hasn’t moved an inch since entering your room. Swallowed up by the scent of you spread between these four walls. He has to work to control his breathing, reaching up to physically cover his eyes and push away the thoughts filling up his head. 

He shouldn’t be imagining such things. Thinking up the different ways he could touch you so inappropriately..

No. He shouldn’t be salivating over his step-sister passed out in bed half nude. Vulnerable for any deplorable Alpha to take advantage of. It’s his job to protect you, to make sure your precious womb remains untouched from any unworthy Alpha scumbag.

“Jungkook?” You ask out sleepily, voice all tired from screaming and laughing with random Alphas. 

“Yeah.” He says through gritted teeth, forcing himself away from the door.

“Smelled you.”

“Oh yeah.” Stiffly sitting down on his bed, he squeezes at the tops of his thighs. Pushing his legs together tightly to quell the warmth building up in his ballsack. “Tired?”

“Mmmph..” mumbling something incoherent, you roll over until you reach the edge of the bed. Pushing yourself off to stand clumsily and furiously blink sleep away from your eyes. “I d-don’t even know why.” You slur, swaying from foot to foot.

Jungkook frowns, observing your lazy hunched forward posture. How you can’t stabilize yourself, how your hands flail in search of something to grab onto. “Hey, what’s going on?” He says, mildly concerned. Standing back up to rush over and grab a hold of you before you collapse back onto the bed. 

Lazy eyes struggle to blink up at him, spending extra time attempting to fully open them and get a look at his face. You almost look..

“Are you drunk? Did you take something??”

“N-no..” you gargle, easing into his hold more comfortably. “Feel dizzy..”

Fuck. He knew it. Those fucking untrustworthy Alphas must have slipped you something. “What did you take?”

“W-water..” clutching your hands onto his biceps, you squeeze down to keep yourself standing. Scuttering on the balls of your feet and toes trying to stay steady.

“Water?!” He practically shouts, moving around to set you down on your bed. He sits you up right, grabbing a hold of your face to get a better look at your eyes. “Fuck, don’t you know better than to accept drinks from strangers?!?”

“Stop yelling at me!” You whine, scrabbling at his abdomen. “I f-feel.. nothing. Can’t feel anything at all.”

“God, just—hold on.” Letting go of his grip on you, he spins around quickly to the bathroom. Searching for a small cloth towel to immerse in cold water while slamming open a cabinet that had complimentary water bottles stowed away inside when you arrived. 

Fuck, this wouldn’t even be happening right now if you’d just listened to him in the first place. If you’d just let him stick around to watch those assholes you were hanging out with. How could you let this happen?!? He’s going to have to keep you under a tight watch for the rest of this stupid cruise.

“Alright, you need to drink this.” He instructs walking back into the room. Halting dead in his tracks when he sees you knocked out once again. 

Only on your back this time, legs slightly spread open. Leaving him no choice but to gawk at how smooth your inner thighs are. How your tiny little bikini clings to your pussy. He stumbles back against the door frame and forces his eyes shut to catch his breath, has to pinch himself to make sure he’s not hallucinating again. 

At least you’re safe with him now, here in this room you’re sharing. Safe with the pounding heat between his legs growing larger by the second. Every ounce of worry he had dissipates quickly in favor of once again taking in your legs hanging off the bed. The way your chest slowly rises and falls back down with each easy breath you inhale and exhale. 

“You’re impossible.” He says to himself, pushing off from the door. Dragging his feet across the floor, he plops down next to you, reaching to move the strands of hair away from your face that cover your cheek. You’re really out of it, eyes open enough to see some of the whites, breathing so softly and calmly. Completely unaware of your step-brother’s internal struggle. So innocently naive to his gaze burning down your body.

He shudders a little bit, bouncing around the cooled down wash cloth in his other hand. He should place it on your head.. should try to wake you back up. Yes, because he knows that’s the right thing to do.

“You need to wake up.” He struggles to say through wads of saliva collecting in his mouth. Laying the towel against your forehead gently, he traces down your cheek to your parted lips. Lightly tapping the middle of your plump bottom lip. “And drink water.” Letting out a sigh, he continues to brush tendrils of hair away from your neck. Smoothing them back past your shoulders and chest.

That’s when he sees it, a jagged little mark on the side of your neck. It’s light, as if a set of teeth tried to dig in and failed. A smidge of blood, barely a hint of it, dried up along the peeled skin. 

Anger rushes through him rapidly, clutching his hand into a tightly balled up fist. He sits up fast and hooks onto your shoulders. Hoisting you off the bed to press his nose in close to the barely-there wound. The scent of Alpha hits him first before your savory sweetness can. Instantly causing his blood to boil. He snarls at the hint of another Alpha trying to claim you against your will.

Trembling hands pull you up the bed, shaking as he moves to stand and looks over you. If those brutes could get this close to your scent gland, who knows where else they could have left a mark. He can’t calm down enough to rationalize whether or not this is a bad idea. Every inch of him screams to lick you clean. Clean off the unwanted and unpermitted scent of trash lingering to your skin.

It’s what your parents would want.. your mother would lose her mind if she knew you’d let any old Alpha touch you improperly. 

This is his duty as your older brother. 

Step-brother.

He sinks back onto your bed, knees digging into the mattress by your side. Licking over his lips as he hunches over your limp body, drained of energy by whatever was slipped into your drink. He has to get closer, get a good look at every inch of your precious skin. 

Starting at your neck, he checks behind your ears. Along your nape, down to your collarbone, lift your arms up to drag his nose along the inside of your forearm down to the crook of your elbow.

Unknown scents of Alpha continue to swarm around him, furiously moving faster to find something he may have missed. It’s nothing like his fantasy this time, he can’t control himself anymore the stronger your delectable sugary sweetness infiltrates his senses. Throwing a leg over your hips, he mounts your lower half and proceeds to reach for the triangles covering your breasts. Groaning as he pulls them down and your fat tits bounce out so freely. “Fuck.” He salivates, licking at his sharp canines.

No marks, nothing to ruin your perfect breasts. Your nipples pointed up taut and hard from the cool air filling up your room. The wrinkled skin of your aureoles a few shades darker, tempting his hungry mouth the longer he examines the skin between your chest. “They could have gotten you here, huh?” Sucking at his teeth, he smooths up your stomach and cups under your natural heavy tits. Pushing them up with a groan. His hips roll down against yours instinctively without a second thought. The marks of your bikini top indentations line up above your rib cage, pushing more saliva to swallow up his tongue. 

“Fuck, see, this is where I would have marked you.” He mutters raspily, hips jerking again. The tent in his pants poking at your mound. “Mom and dad would never be able to notice, not with these big pretty titties. They’d sit just right on any mark, cover them up perfectly.”

He hisses, lapping at the drool leaking from the corners of his lips. Who is he kidding? He’d have to leave bite marks all over you. Needs to make it clear that you belong to him only. Your flesh, your sex, every centimeter of your body is his. It’d be for the best, such a stupid Omega like you, so easily impressed by Alphas far beneath you. Jungkook would make sure you’d act proper, that your eyes would never roam away from him.

As tempted as he is to do just that right now, he has to keep looking. Desperate to ensure that the rest of your flawless skin hasn’t been fucked with, he scours lower. Dragging the tips of his fingers down to your waist, digging into the dips there. “You’re so pretty, it’s no wonder they were all over you out there. Should have let me put them in their place and set the rules down.” Gruffly speaking, he continues to venture lower, reaching the strings of your bikini.

“You didn’t..” raising an eyebrow, he pulls at the bows tied up on your hips. Gingerly lifting the straps up to unveil your mound. Hairless, absolutely hairless, and so God damn smooth. It’s unbelievable that you could be even prettier between your thighs, your most hidden area. “None of them would deserve it, you know that right?” He goes on conversing with himself like a man gone mad, scooting back to barely place his weight on your knees. 

“I would keep my Omega satisfied.” He nods to himself, revealing the rest of your cunt with a deep inhale. “Fuck.”

You’re perfect, absolutely perfect in every way. Twitching his cock to full size against his pelvis, he can’t stop his hips from jumping forward. Dropping the strings of your bathing suit just to sit back for a moment to drag his eyes all over your body. From your supple rounded breasts lifting up on top of the rise from your lungs expanding, to the dip in your waist trailing down to your curved hips encasing the cutest little pussy he’s ever seen. 

It wouldn’t be right for any other Alpha to have you over him. He’s the only one who would treat you right.. keep you safe and give you a good life. You’d never have to work, only worry would be to keep your Alpha pleased. Wouldn’t be hard at all judging by the way his cock can’t stop throbbing, pushing against his bottoms to be let out. 

Looks like those creeps weren’t around your thighs, that’s good.. maybe one of them got too bold while sniffing around your throat. Unless..

Sinking down lower with his stomach pressed to the bed, he nudges your knees apart more. Slipping in closer until his face is right in front of your core. “Did you let any of them touch you here?” He asks almost mindlessly. Tongue heavy and mind blanketed with a thick haze.

The Jungkook you’ve come to know as your step-brother is long gone by now, fully taken over by his Alpha instincts that crave to feel you from the inside. To stuff himself so deep inside of you so that you only taste him for weeks to come. “Let me get a look at you baby.” Sucking at the saliva pooled in his mouth, he parts your thighs open even more with a muffled groan. 

He’s not one to use terms of endearment with you ever, overcome by his desire to leave his own marks behind, he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “Just like that.” Huffing through his nose, he grabs onto your knees to press the sides of your thighs against the bed. Spreading you completely open for his curious and hungry gaze. 

Fuck. You’re already wet, so wet. There’s no way you didn’t let one of those pigs touch you here. That simply won’t do, Jungkook can’t let their scent stain your gorgeous Omegan aroma. Can’t let remnants of those Alphas remain inside of you. 

You’d let them fill you full of his seed, wouldn’t you? So desperate to be loved by anyone. You’d let them use you like nothing but a cheap Omega whore.

A twitch up your thigh under his caressing palm snaps him out of his mental despair. Shaking off his anger to squint and get a good look at your parted open labia folds. They glisten so fucking pretty. 

Looks normal, tight little hole pulsing lightly. Continuously streaming a line of slick down to the crevice between your squished buttcheeks. But maybe he needs to do a more thorough check. Really get in there.. who knows. Asshole Alphas are capable of anything.

Shifting himself into a better position for his face to hover near your cunt, he swipes a thumbs gently between your puffy outer folds. “Fucking hell..” he whispers, sucking drool once more before leaning his face in even closer. Getting his nose close enough to suck up a deep greedy inhale of your sweet slick without actually touching you, yet. 

Slick won’t stop trickling out even now, raising one of Jungkook’s eyebrows with interest as he purses his lips and blows at your exposed clit. That earns tremor through your limbs, bouncing under his hand that’s still laid on top of one of your thighs. Each small touch from his thumb moving your folds from side to side to get a look at every inch of you seems to ignite another shiver. Clenching your tight entrance each time trembles work through your body. He curses under his breath with fixated large eyes stuck on your hole, grinding his teeth together to not let out another obscene compliment about how pretty your pussy is.

It’s too much for him, already dizzied by only looking at your wet cunt. He almost caves when your thighs begin to snap around him, forcing his hand to slide off as your stomach folds in and you let out one of the sweetest pitchiest moans he’s ever heard. 

There’s no way.. no way all it took was some barely there touching to make you cum. “Did you really just—“

In full awe, he grabs onto your trembling thighs once again to set them against the bed. Returning his hand back to your pussy to stroke between your sensitive lips. “That really all it takes to get you off baby? Cause I have so much more for you.” 

Jungkook contemplates how much longer he can continue to inspect you before his dick suffocates and dies inside of his pants. Using two of his digits to hold you open, his other hand smooths up your thigh. Flicking his thumb out teasingly at the small hood hiding your clit. 

“How many Alphas have had their way with you baby?” He asks desperately. Fearing that you haven’t had many, if any at all. No slutty Omega could ever cum this easily, only one so touch deprived and needy.. “My baby sister..” he hisses, licking at his teeth. “You’re really too sweet and innocent, aren’t you?”

Stretching your slicked up folds apart again, he slowly blinks and sighs. Tapping your fluttering hole. “I’m way too big. I’ll break you.”

And that’s exactly what you need, to be broken. No other Alpha should have this chance with you. Jungkook’s doing you a favor, really. He’s doing this as a man with your best interest who cares about you and loves you.

“You’ll thank me later.” 

Settling between your thighs, he strips the strings of your swimsuit away. Sliding the material out from beneath you to leave you completely nude for his lust filled eyes. His hands itch again, slowly dragging from your ankles, up your smooth calves, to your knees and thighs. Pinching and kneading the skin lining your inner thighs as he swallows down another breathy groan and reaches for his pants. 

It’s hot as fuck inside of his boxers, sticky with precum and the heat radiating off of his skin from keeping his cock trapped for so long. He deserves an award for taking this much time to appreciate and admire you like the piece of art you are before hanging you up on his walls for no one other than himself to enjoy.

He’d bury his face between your thighs if not for the way his dick smacks against his abdomen, leaving a stream of wet above his navel. He’s shocked he didn’t cum from that alone. Softly grunting as he peels off the rest of his clothing and works simultaneously to kick and toss aside the damp materials coated with his sweat.

“That’s better.” He whispers, pulling the backs of your thighs onto his bare ones. It’s only right with the way your pussy hasn’t stopped dripping down onto the bedding that he assists your needs. Even if you were to wake up now, you wouldn’t stop him. You’d moan and beg for more. For Alpha to somehow get deeper inside of you than he already plans to.

You really are too small now that he slaps his cock down onto your mound. Rubbing his lips together as he drags the tip past your bellybutton and stays still to take in how fucking big he looks against your stomach. With his dick fully sheathed inside of you, he’ll practically be fucking between your lungs.

How is he supposed to even get his cockhead inside of your tiny little pussy? Let alone far enough inside of you to paint your cervix white with his hot cum. 

Reaching under the weight of his heavy length, he spreads your cunt open again with his digits. Struggling to hold you wide open with the amount of slick that’s gathered between your pussy folds. He shifts back letting out a wet gasp as he slides the head of his cock down to your hole. 

It’ll hurt if he fucks you already, you might even wake up. Might thrash around and shout that it’s too much, it’s too damn much for your sweet tight cunt to take. A few more thrusts and he’d have you singing a different tune. It’s just too tempting to not try, to stop himself from pushing in a mere inch of his thick girth. To watch your hole expand past the slit of his tip, fight against the wide stretch that splits you open.

Supple soft thighs twitch around him as he does just that and teases at your entrance. Biting down on his lips with wrinkled eyebrows, he can’t stop the pleasured moan that escapes. He knew you’d love it, the small bit of contact from his cock already jolting your hips up for more.

Popping the little bit of tip out that he got inside, he lets out a winded gasp. Clutching onto the base of his cock before dragging it through your folds, prodding the chubbed up flesh from side to side. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Probably thinking about me. All the ways you want Alpha to ruin your pretty fucking cunt.”

He’s delirious now, muttering nonsense the more he fights against himself to not glide his cock inside of you. A moment of silence washes over him as he takes you in one more time. How God damn pretty you look, all peaceful with shiny drool on your lips, parted open quietly panting but still loud enough for his ears to pick up on. Nipples erect, hard and pointed at him begging to be nibbled on.  

So perfect in every way. His little step-sister, his Omega. 

A quiet breathy moan draws him back, shaking his head rapidly before staring down at you with huge wide eyes. He scoops around your thighs, tugging you over his hips completely. “I know baby, I know.”

Swiping his cock between your folds again, he gets himself nice and wet. Slick dripping down to his balls before placing his cockhead against your hole again. Slowly inching closer, he stuffs the tip against your resisting hole, groaning deep as he pushes in more than just that half inch he teased you with. Getting the fat tip of his size further in until your cunt hole snaps around him and your breath catches. Chest rising faster from the intrusion of a thick size you’ve never taken before.

Wedging himself even deeper between your legs, he finds the perfect angle to start rolling his hips forward. The first thrust of his cock inside of you still struggles against how tight you are even with the amount of slick pouring out of your hole around his size. It takes a few more attempts before he finally feels himself sinking inside of your wet heat. Jaw dropping at the suck around his cock, how your walls throb against his penetrating girth and try to push him out and pull him in at the same time. It’s fucking mind numbing, rolling his eyes back as he gets the rest of his dick slotted inside of you until he’s filled you to the brim.

“Fuck baby.” A loud deep groan bursts out of him, unbothered by how loud he’s being anymore. If you wake up, then fucking wake up. He’d love to see you try to deny how good this feels, how right this is. “So warm, wet..” he rambles, going on to himself about how tight you are. How good you suck him in, clenching even tighter around him on his next thrust inside. He can’t stop groaning now, shaking sweaty strands of hair away from his face as he reaches for your waist for better leverage. Using his rough grip on you to build up speed and pin you to the bed.

“Fuckfuck!” Jungkook gets too rough too fast, stealing broken sobs out of you. Bouncing your body higher up the bed with each violent thrust until the top of your head meets the wall and he has to grab onto your shoulders to keep you in place for his cock to take and take.

“Yeah, that’s it sweetheart.” He says breathily, eyes wrinkling shut when you tighten up around him so much that he’s forced to slow down. Using extra strength to fuck in past how tight you’ve gotten, how much your pussy sucks around him indicating how close you are to release. He can’t hold back the string of curses that scream out between his grinding teeth. Pounding his cock in harder as your hips rise up from the bed like you’re offering yourself to him. Even asleep you’re such a fucking slut.

“T-too good, feel too good for me.” He nearly whimpers. Hips stilling when your thighs quiver on his and a hot stream of clear liquid shoots out around his hidden cock. Powerful enough to make him stop, out of breath and slumped over in awe watching as slick fountains out around him.

“God sweetheart, no way you seriously j-just fucking squirted.” Gasping for air, he has to tear his gaze away from where his dick begins to slide halfway out of you. Gritting his teeth to tone down the dragged out moan that slips out. Slick completely covers his groin, filthy and clumped up in his pubic hair. Wetting his cock enough for his next thrust to cram the entirety of his size inside of you seamlessly. “You’re taking me so good now. My pretty fucking Omega learns so fast.”

Jungkook hooks around your thighs, fully slotted inside of your tight delicious cunt as he props his feet hard against the mattress for better force. Throwing the fronts of your thighs to your chest, he draws out to the tip only to slam his lower half back down and pretzel you into a brutal mating press position. Determined to stuff your pussy to the brim with his seed, he pummels down harder. Building up a fast and steady rhythm from the start despite the sweat that drips down into his eyes. 

“That’s it, take it.” Curling in his upper lip, he sucks at the sweat trickling down. Dropping his body against your limp one. He sinks you deeper into the cruise ship bed that will never be the same again once he’s done with you. “Take it so fucking good, gonna fuck you full of my pups. Make you my breeding bitch.”

Lost to his Alphas desires, he continues to plow into you. Eyes heavy with sweltering body heat and sweat, failing to notice your own fluttering open. You under him, finally awoken by the overstimulating sensitivity shooting from your core.

“J-Jungkook..” you whisper helplessly. Blearily staring up at the beast on top of you having every bit of his way with you.

“Fu-fuck!” He cries out, digging into the backs of your knees. Pushing at them until they meet your shoulders and he can push his cock inside of you balls deep. The deep growling call of Alpha rips out of him, face scrunched up as hot semen ripples its way out of his heavy balls pressed to your ass. Shooting out violent streams of hot cum to coat your cervix with as he promised himself. 

Slowly heaving for breath and blinking, you meet his ravenous gaze. Opening and shutting your mouth to get some saliva on your dried tongue. Pathetically squeezing around his cock for the last bits of cum.

“Y-you came inside of me..” you say confused, sounding drowsy. Straining your neck to watch as he pulls out, releasing a loud wet pop as his softening length slaps against his upper thigh. Gleaming in remnants of your slick mixed with his seed. The feeling of emptiness between your thighs immediately sinks down your chest. Letting out a soft complaining whine, having to calm your Omega from embarrassing you and begging to be stuffed full of cock again.

Jungkook grabs onto your thighs, cupping the backs of them and hauling them up to expose your gaped cunt. The size of his thick cock leaving you stretched open, angling your hips up to watch his cum glide deeper inside of you. “I did.”

“I’m not on the pill.” You say quietly and ashamed. Turning your face to the side to bury into a pillow. 

A groan rumbles up his chest, licking at his bottom lip with a pleased hum. The visual of your pussy swallowing down his future pups and your confession shoots through his cock. “Your mom would be so proud, getting pupped by your step-brother. You could only ever pray to every deity to be so lucky.”

“You can’t..” you sigh. More exhausted now after climaxing over and over again. “They’d disown us.”

Jungkook throws your thighs down onto the bed, stroking his cock back to its fully hardened size. “Let them then.” Grabbing onto your hip, he pushes you onto your stomach. Wrapping one of his hands along the back of your neck before you can break out of the position he’s got you into. “You’re mine now Omega. Won’t stop fucking you until you’re bred full of my pups. Gonna keep you stuck on my knot from now on.”

“Jungkook..” mild fear sounds in your voice, shifting your face to plant your cheek to the bed. Peering back at him from the corner of your eye. 

“Beg for it.” He says dangerously. Slapping his full hard size against your ass. Hissing from the way your skin ripples upon contact. Soft and supple under the weight of his heavy cock.

A silent moment of curiosity and anticipation passes between you. Blinking long and slow at him before pouting. “Alpha..”

“Say it.”

“Alpha, please,” shoving your stomach against the bed, you arch out. Presenting your bottom to him. “Knot me.”

[bambi-is-brainwashed]

Takeover - Emma

Emma couldn't remember much from the night prior. Matter of fact, a lot of time in Emma's life was left in darkness, completely out of reach to form a memory of. Over the last few months, this trend had been becoming more and more apparent in her life. Whole afternoons into the morning, vanishing completely. Or random Saturdays when she was off of work totally wiped from her mind. Emma was becoming more and more nervous, increasingly concerned for her own well being, unable to find the route cause of her memory loss entirely. This particular morning, Emma woke up to find headphones over her head, and wearing nothing except for a ridiculously revealing outfit, consisting solely of a tight bra and bottom, showing much more skin than Emma was comfortable with. Standing up and taking off the headphones, Emma tried to take in her surroundings and ground herself in the moment. Tried to think of what she needed to do today, what errands she had to run. All of this effort, only to realize that, to her surprise, she couldn't think at all. A sense of dread trickled down through her near naked body, staring blankly at the wall while she struggled to form a thought. Suddenly, out of the darkness, a lone light appeared, guiding her. The headphones! Emma looked back at her bed, the soft headphones enticing her, ready to be placed around her ears. With nowhere else to go, and nothing else to possibly think of, Emma hesitantly sat down on the side of her bed, and placed the headphones over her head. A heavy silence ensued, muting Emma's world entirely.

That was, until the faint hum of subliminals kicked in. The familiar sounding drone, beating itself into Emma's head in a recognizable pattern. This droning sound was oddly comforting, as Emma came to realize. It made her feel more at ease, more relaxed as she began to sink into her bed. After what seemed to be a short few seconds, more voices began to crowd Emma's head. Emma's fuzzy, blank mind, unable to think and only listen. Listening felt good, felt easy. The feminine voice projecting out the words only further relaxed Emma's body, her soft breasts bouncing as she took a deep breath out. The voices made her feel safe, wrapped in a blanket of warmth and comfort as her mind was wiped clean. Emma smiled as the conditioning began, drifting off into deep trance as the hypnosis completely washed over her.

Emma woke up again, this time in a chair in the living room. How did she end up there? Confused, she tried to recall anything, visibly looking shocked as the clock in the kitchen read 5pm. Where did the whole day go? She faintly remembered the headphones, the voices, sinking deep into sleep before losing memory completely. She looked back at her chair, noticing the headphones on the arm rest. A mix of fear and curiosity washed over Emma, unknowing of the effects of the headphones other than that they made her lose control of her mind entirely, and this thought sent a jolt of excitement down into her clit. She looked down and gulped, scared at the sudden and extreme response that came about solely from a thought. She picked up the headphones and disconnected them from her phone, purposefully in an effort to avoid the urge to place them back on her head. She made her way upstairs and into her room, where she found her bed made neatly, the vibrant pink sheets holding her focus for a long second before breaking eye contact. Emma identified the problem as these headphones, the unknown effects instilling not fear, but a strange feeling of longing deep inside of her, unable to grasp what an audio on its own could do to her, but oddly curious as to what they do.

Emma placed the headphones on her dresser, avoiding them throughout the rest of the day until it was time for bed, at which point she was forced to acknowledge them when she went to change. Even looking at them caused slight feelings of warmth to erupt within her. She began to salivate a bit, seeing her frame in her full length mirror, checking out her features. Had her body always been this curvy? It was true. Her breasts and ass together appeared to be much larger than she previously remembered, voluptuously protruding from Emma's otherwise slim frame. Emma stared at herself for a bit, feeling the wetness in her mouth build up while she grasped her ass, jiggled her tits a bit. To be honest, it felt good. Really good. Before long, Emma was fully enthralled by her own body, making herself look as sexy as possible for the mirror. She felt a small sensation, one that got larger with every passing second, begin to expand within her. A sensation of pleasure, starting in between her legs and spreading outward at a rapid rate. Thoughts began to slow a little bit, her movements in front of the mirror becoming more lethargic. She felt...dumber. When she realized this, the pleasure radiating from her crotch rose instantly. It felt good, standing and admiring herself, letting her thoughts slow and the pleasure grow. A flashing light in the back of her mind turned on at that moment, stopping her in her tracks. Put on the headphones... Emma at first tried to reason with the thought, create an excuse to not turn her head to look back at her dresser. But the temptation was too powerful. Too overbearing on Emma's weak, slow mind. Resistance faded away as Emma picked up the headphones and placed them happily over her head, the softness of the muffs on her ears and the comfort of the silence around her carried along as she found her phone and reconnected the headphones. Instantly, the faint echo of the subliminals echoed through Emma's mind, and she felt her eyes rolling back as she collapsed onto her bed. The voices got louder and louder, the voice of the woman repeating mantra-like phrases over and over, wearing down Emma's resistance even more.

"Just give in"

"You are a good girl"

"You are hypnotized"

"You are Bambi"

Emma's eyes shot open, panting a bit out of heat. She felt so hot, her whole body on fire as she quickly sat up, the headphones silent on her head. She wasn't a good girl for anyone! Um...she had to um...resist the hypnosis, yes that's it. She glanced to her phone. Tw-two in the morning? How could she have been asleep that long? Emma's thoughts were distant, as if a soft, cloudy fog had been filled up in her mind, leaving her mind empty, difficult to form new thoughts. Blank and empty, like a good girl. Soft and controlled, docile and permanently in heat. Emma tried her hardest to resist these feelings, to move her hands to her ears and pull off the headphones. But she couldn't. Her arms remained at her sides, glued still. The loss of physical control only seemed to increase the feelings and thoughts in Emma's head. And it felt...amazing. She didn't even notice when the audio started back up, reinforcing the messages of brainwashing and conditioning, breaking down Emma's last remaining defenses. She tried to hard to resist, to not listen to the cooing voices that were offering such bliss to her. Why think when she could let Bambi think for her? To do things for her? And she would feel so good while doing it. Yes, that's right, so good to just listen and sink, to obey, to let the hypnosis win. The last of Emma's spark, the piece of her that made her who she was, was blown out for the final time with a wave of pleasure erupting from her clit, and the command she was so familiar with sliding into her mind, dropping her off into the deepest trance she had ever experienced, breaking her mind completely.

"Bambi Sleep"

Ever since that night, Emma no longer wondered why she couldn't remember anything. She didn't need a brain anyway, thoughts weren't important for a bimbo doll like her. She lazily got up each morning, starting her day with a fresh round of conditioning that made her feel so soft, so happy. She was a total puppet for Bambi, completely void of resistance and entirely taken over by the bimbo bliss that grew with each listen of her files. She put on her favorite outfit, a tight bra and panties that stimulated her nipples and pussy at the same time, each small motion resulting in friction, sending waves of lustful pleasure through her body. Her newly discovered purpose as a bimbo doll left her horny all the time, eternally writhing in the heat of rubbing herself dumb and listening to her files. To fall to her knees in front of her mirror, and watch herself drool over herself, admiring her curves and allowing the brainwashing to roll over her, letting her headphones pump her mind with the lovely, pleasurable pink gas that made Emma dumb. Dumb and horny, letting her eyes roll back as she moaned in pleasure, knowing how much she loved her new life. How safe and good the hypnosis made her feel, the ecstasy and never ending waves of pleasure leaving her limp and aroused as she sank deep into the conditioning, accepting every command and obeying without resistance, giving up her own control and drifting deeper into submission as the blank, horny bimbo doll she had always wanted to be, Bambi fully in control.

[ellecdc]

Not So Surprising After All

Remus Lupin x fem!reader following Surprise! We're Making Love [1.3k words]

CW: a sort of epilogue to Surprise! We're Making Love but can be read as a stand alone, no plot at all - just vibes, pure fluff

Remus isn’t sure exactly how this all started for him. 

One minute he was on his (figurative) knees, apologising for turning whatever this was between the two of you into love, and silently begging you not to leave. 

And the next minute…

Remus stepped out of the cottage and breathed in the sea air, blinking against the sun still fairly high in the sky. He could see the faint outline of his parents cottage on the crest of the hill in the distance. A stone and wood dwelling surrounded by a few out buildings, the grass dotted by sheep, and the landscape pockmarked by their gardens enclosed in simple wooden fences; Hope’s floral and Lyall’s vegetable. The image made Remus smile. 

Foregoing shoes, Remus stepped off the stone path in front of his door towards the side of the property; running his hands across the tallest plants and flowers in the gardens that a life lived with the likes of Hope Lupin prepared Remus to help tend to as the grass flattened beneath his feet.

There was a well worn trail carved through the too long grass leading down a small hill; so worn that there were places that grass gave way to earth and stone, but the route was so practised by Remus that - even in his barefoot state - he knew where to step in order to avoid the rocks in the path. 

“You ought to clear the path, Cariad,” his mother had scolded him once, “make the journey easier for the two of you.” 

But the two of you were very familiar with journey’s being anything but easy, though no less worth it. The risk of acupuncture by way of old red sandstone or carboniferous limestone formations that could be found along the Welsh coast was more than worth the end result. 

The end result came into Remus’ view as he watched where the worn path through the grass and heather disappeared between the trees and shrubs.

He could hear the stream trickling and babbling along the rocky Welsh terrain before the clearing permeated his view; for as rocky and rough the terrain on this edge of the property tended to be, relief could be found under a grand willow tree about ten feet from the streams edge that the two of you frequented regularly. 

Two small, clumsily made wooden chairs called the clearing home with a side table settled comfortably between them. Remus had strung some fairy lights through the branches of the willow, as well as down some of the long vines that hung below it.

And on the other side of the willow - hanging almost directly above the stream's edge - a white fabric hammock swayed in the gentle breeze.

It was cosy. It was quaint. It was home. 

“I had a feeling I’d find you down here.” He said as a way to announce his presence; your head popping up from the hammock when you shot Remus a beaming smile which you treacherously covered with the top of your book. 

“Were you looking for me?” You asked as he made his way over to you, pulling the edge of the hammock away so he could see you better.

“I’m always looking for you.” Remus teased before leaning forward for a kiss that you readily accepted before offering him two more of your own.

“I’m never very far.”

Remus hummed in acknowledgement as he folded his lips over his teeth, relishing in the feeling of you on his lips for as long as he could. “I like that about you.”

“That I’m easily accessible?” You giggled. 

“That you’re always close by, you minx.”

You had your damned book covering your mouth again, but Remus could see your smile turn soft by the crinkling around your eyes.

“How are the boys?” You asked then, referring to the floo call Remus just had with Sirius, James, and Peter. The boys would have loved to catch up with you as well - Remus had told you as much - but you were determined to provide them some privacy and left the cottage to Remus.

Looking around at your refuge, he thought perhaps your motives weren’t as selfless as you made them out to be. 

“They’re good. They miss you.” He responded, causing you to snort a laugh.

“I’m sure they’re just dying without me.” 

“They are!” Remus insisted. “Sirius told me that he was trying to brew a polyjuice potion, and Regulus insisted on watching but refused to help him at all. Ended up at St. Mungo’s for three days afterwards, and Regulus laughed so hard he passed out; ended up in the bed beside him for the night.”

“Oh, Reg.” You sighed.

“Sirius said, and I quote, ‘Trouble would never have let that happen to me’.”

You let out a long suffering sigh accompanied by a dramatic eye roll - both of which Remus could tell were entirely for show. “He’s right, I wouldn’t.”

“What happened to you, L/N?” Remus taunted then. “You used to be cool.” 

You scoffed in faux offence before smacking him with your paperback. “I became a Lupin, is what, you cheeky bastard.” 

Remus roughly grabbed either side of your face to press a searing kiss to your lips, humming into it when he felt you break out in a smile. “That’s right. My apologies, Mrs. Lupin.” 

You rolled your eyes, but Remus could tell he’d flustered you when you tried to hide behind your book again.

“They want to come out for the next moon. The boys, that is.” Remus continued. 

“Yeah?” You murmured then, book falling away from your face once again and Remus’ heart stuttered at how happy and hopeful you sounded on Remus’ behalf.

“Yeah; they wanted to make sure that was okay with you first, though. James said he doesn’t want to ‘bother the missus’ if it’s not a good time. Sirius said ‘I don’t care if it bothers her for shit, tell her to stock up on ice cream, I’ll bring the face masks’ and then Pete looked very uncomfortable and seconded James’ earlier sentiments.”

“Of course they can come; that’ll be good, yeah? Like the old days?” 

Remus wondered if you didn't look slightly insecure by that sentiment. “Well, perhaps not like the old days. You’ll be there, yeah?”

You made a face like you were going to decline, but Remus beat you to it. “I should warn you, Sirius said he ‘wouldn’t come if Trouble’s not there because Moony does not behave well for the rest of us anymore’.” 

“Is that so?” You laughed, eyebrows almost to your hairline as you looked at Remus incredulously. 

“‘Fraid so.” Remus agreed quickly. “So…what do you say? Gonna get the pack back together?” 

You pursed your lips in a way that Remus knew was you trying not to smile as you pretended to consider it. “Okay. But Sirius has to sleep in the dog bed.”

Remus let out an uncharacteristic bark of laughter that had become relatively characteristic of him in the years since the two of you graduated Hogwarts and he brought you home to his parents. 

After the chaos that was your childhood, something about your soul wholly unclenched here in the rugged Welsh terrain, and you found that you simply couldn’t imagine yourself living your life anywhere else.

And Remus? Well, Remus couldn’t imagine himself anywhere without you, so he had no problem going back to his roots. In fact, he found that the coastal Welsh countryside had never felt more like home.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: Topographical Elements

Ideas for Naming your Fictional Places

Buildings and stones brough, burton, caster, church, cross, kirk, mill, minster, stain, stone, wark ⚜ Examples: Crossthwaite, Felixkirk, Newminster, Staines, Whitchurch

Coastline features ey, holme, hulme, hythe, naze, ness, port, sea ⚜ Examples: Bardsey, Greenhithe, Sheerness, Southport, Southsea

Dwellings and farms barton, berwick, biggin, bold, by, cote, ham, hampstead, hamton, house, scale, sett, stall, thorpe, toft, ton, wick ⚜ Examples: Fishwick, Newham, Potterton, Westby, Woodthorpe

Fields and clearings combe, croft, den, ergh, field, ham, haugh, hay, ing, land, lease, lock, meadow, rick, ridding, rode, shot, side, thwaite, wardine, worth, worthy ⚜ Examples: Applethwaite, Cowden, Smallworthy, Southworth, Wethersfield

General locations and routes bridge, ford, gate, ing, mark, path, stead, stoke, stow, street, sty, way ⚜ Examples: Epping, Horsepath, Longford, Ridgeway, Stonebridge, Streetly

Hills and slopes bank, barrow, borough, breck, cam, cliff, crook, down, edge, head, hill, how, hurst, ley, ling, lith, mond, over, pen, ridge, side, tor ⚜ Examples: Barrow, Blackdown, Longridge, Redcliff, Thornborough, Windhill

Rivers and streams batch, beck, brook, burn, ey, fleet, font, ford, keld, lade, lake, latch, marsh, mere, mouth, ore, pool, rith, wade, water, well ⚜ Examples: Broadwater, Fishlake, Mersey, Rushbrooke, Saltburn

Woods and groves bear, carr, derry, fen, frith, greave, grove, heath, holt, lea, moor, oak, rise, scough, shaw, tree, well, with, wold, wood ⚜ Examples: Blackheath, Hazlewood, Oakley, Southwold, Staplegrove

Valleys and hollows bottom, clough, combe, dale, den, ditch, glen, grave, hole, hope, slade ⚜ Examples: Cowdale, Denton, Greenslade, Hoole, Longbottom, Thorncombe

NOTE

These elements are all found in many different spellings. Old English beorg ‘hill, mound’, for example, turns up as bar-, berg-, -ber, -berry, -borough, and -burgh. Only one form is given above (Thornborough).

Several items have the same form, but differ in meaning because they come from different words in Old English. For example, -ey has developed in different ways from the two words ea ‘river’ and eg ‘island’. It is not always easy deciding which is the relevant meaning in a given place name.

This resource does not distinguish between forms which appear in different parts of a place name. Old English leah ‘forest, glade’, for example, sometimes appears at the beginning of a name (Lee- or Leigh-), sometimes at the end (-leigh, -ley), and sometimes alone (Leigh) (K. Cameron, 1961).

Source ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Notes & References ⚜ Worldbuilding

[just-null]

which of the clones would we soften up to first? because it's gonna happen eventually, right? I imagine it's Urogi > Karaku > Aizetsu > Sekido

Aizetsu then Karaku, i think.... Urogi and Sekido are spot on yeah!

Who you choose to pursue first is up to you. This is who gets all mushy for you in what order. once you have Urogi pining, youre hard locked into their route, sorries.

[rambling about losers softening up]

Urogi, he's just a needy guy who gets pretty hungry.. It's easy to set him off at first because while he's reckless, he's not about to trust a stranger! His problem is when optimism and overconfidence accidentally mix making him receptive to you. You can't do anything to him, he's upper four! but once he's in the palm of your hand, he'll refuse to leave. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and any kindness and tending make him really happy. Being with you brings a different kind of joy he never expected. It's warmer, kind of nerve wracking but exciting at the same time. Like he found his place with you. His heart flutters in a way that gets him so giddy, he can't help but want to reach out to you forever! The addictive tightness in his chest pushes him to crave you, since you're the only one who makes him feel this way!

Urogi softens up to you first because you're not a real threat to them. You're just a squishy weakling! A cute one! A reaaaally really cute one, like very cute.. too cute to eat...... DEFINITELY too cute to let anyone else eat!

The rest have their guard up to some degree and won't just throw their heart around at anybody. The world is against them after all!

Aizetsu is a tough nut because of his demotivation and overall apathetic sorrow. He makes no moves to progress or distance himself in the beginning, you're just someone, and he's stagnant. he's quicker to warm up to you than Karaku if you pamper and spoil him a little. like cleaning his spear, providing a place for him to rest, to wash up, or rescuing him from the others into a quieter room. Hell, if you get him food somehow, he stares at you with wide eyes and accepts the gift. It's not difficult to notice how Aizetsu melted after a while when he quietly follows you around like an cat that's constantly seeking affection. What shocks his clone counter parts is how he willingly volunteers to actually DO things for you. You make things so bright, he can't help that he's like a moth to a flame.

That's if you're doting to some degree, but Aizetsu comes around eventually either way, just because you provide shelter (that they technically forced their way into, but never mind that.) He does things with impressive efficiency the others were not expecting he was capable of. So what if he wants to show off a little..?

Karaku isn't easy because he really feels nothing for you aside for entertainment at first. the fact you're able to juggle all four of them amused him is all. He'd enjoy picking and teasing you, the others as well. Calling out when their faces would get red around you and cackling at them. It's difficult for him to tell the difference between pleasure and actual affection, but he never thinks on it too hard. Karaku probably even flirted with you or fought for your attention cause the others wanted it. When asked about you, like your name or interests, he deflected the question. What do you mean? how was he supposed to remember that?! He realized he fell when he's on his own and finds his mind wandering to you, thinking about the little things you do. How you eat, look when something mildly upsets you, when you're genuinely happy. then cusses under his breath cause now he fell for the same trick the others did. Oh, well, no use fighting off these feelings.

Karaku is like the play boy who falls for the first time, except he just needs time around you to actually fall. he accepts it cause this just makes things ten times more interesting. Now he's emotionally invested!! The others clown on him when he slips up and calls you by your name instead of a nickname.

Now for the toughest nut to crack since he's actively rejecting these feelings, Sekido! They rejected their humanity even as a human, why the hell is he going to allow himself to get attached to their food? Because he's as foolish as the idiots he's around, including you! He finds himself sputtering for words if you agree with him after venting, actively listening to him and trying to make his life easier. he's so... conflicted. Similar to the others, he doesn't deny his feelings once they've taken root. he might as well fight air if he were to try. And it's internally comforting to have someone capable of rangling his clones to some extent..

You'd need to have the favor of the others before Sekido fully allows himself to warm up to you. Like the ultra secret tough route of a dating sim..... but its so worth it when you get to see how he sends everyone away except for you so he can "think" on his own and insists that your presence is absolutely necessary.

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess ♡ 𝓒hapter 𝓣welve

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀with your world turned upside down, you seek help from a friend. after building up the courage, you finally tell miguel about the pregnancy but it doesn’t go well as you think.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀angst, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortions, mentions of expired birth control, negligence, major emotional distress, swearing, heartbreak

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

you don’t know how much tears you cried, probably broke a personal record. you don’t know how long you’ve been awake. you don’t even know what time it is or if it’s the same day. you’ve been too busy crying.

ever since you found out you’re pregnant, you turn into a fucking mess. cheeks flushed from all the crying. trash cans over-flooded with tissues, stacked up like a mountain. bed still undone, sheets all messed up. food left untouched in the kitchen.

first, you remained sitting on the cool tile floor of your bathroom sobbing and weeping for who knows how long. then finally you move on to your bed, crying into your pillow. thankfully, you weren’t wearing makeup so you pillows didn’t get stained. only small wet patches of your tears on the sheet.

you’re pregnant.

you are actually pregnant. there is a developing baby in your body, an embryo just sitting inside there. an embryo soon to be a baby, a being that will be a combination of you and miguel.

the thought makes you cry harder.

this can’t be happening. the world is collapsing and it’s all because of your irresponsibility.

you don’t want this. you don’t want a baby. you don’t want to become a mother. go through nine months of fucking hell. experience one of the most painful experiences ever just to pop out a small human. endure numerous body changes. crying echoing throughout the apartment because the baby demands milk. sleepless nights and thousands of diapers to change. buy expensive ass items such as strollers, car seats, diapers, baby food and clothes.

all of that is overwhelming, making your anxiety to skyrocket. this isn’t what you want. this isn’t what you dreamed of. this isn’t in the books for you. becoming a mother wasn’t on your bucket list.

however, it’s still possible that you don’t have to. thankfully, you live in a place where abortion and reproductive healthcare is available (fuck that orange mf). you have the opportunity to take that route.

but it’s not an easy decision.

having an abortion is a difficult process. if you wish to have one, you need to build shit load of courage. you have to ask yourself if you’re willing to live with that decision because it will remain with you for the rest of your life. you can’t feel sorry for yourself. if you got the courage, then fucking do it.

but you still have to process this first.

you have to miguel first.

oh miguel… how are you going to tell him?

never have you been so scared. not saying you’re afraid of him, no never because miguel is sweetest man to exist. he’s such a sweetheart, makes you feel happy and safe. you’re just scared of his reaction.

will he be upset?

will he be mad?

will he be happy?

not knowing is the scariest part. no matter how much of a sweetheart he is, you can’t tell what would his reaction be to such a fucked up situation like this.

while you were sobbing and weeping for hours on end, he texted you which you’ve yet to respond.

osito 🐻: hey, didn’t see you come from work. is everything okay? did you jameson let you off early?

osito 🐻: bebé, did something happened? please answer me asap.

oh your heart breaks.

how can you break the news to this sweet man?

luckily those messages were sent an hour ago which gives you time to respond so he wouldn’t worry and head over to your place. that also means it’s still the same day, it’s just been hours.

bebé 🌷: hi, sorry for answering late! yeah, jameson let us out early so i got home a little earlier and took a nap.

a hinge of guilt stand for your heart for lying but you know miguel would want to know why you didn’t show up to meet him as usual and text him back. the man is in the military for god’s sake, he knows when someone is lying. now you feel even more guilty.

you carelessly toss your phone to the side landing on the bed sheets and bury your face in your hands as tears begin prickling in your eyes once again.

not even 5 seconds, your phone dings!

osito 🐻: that’s good, you needed rest for working so hard. are you feeling better? you need me to come over?

shit, he can’t come over at least now. fuck you’re gonna have to lie to him again, no matter how much it breaks your already fragile heart.

bebé 🌷: no, it’s okay! my sister is actually visiting me soon so i can’t have other visitors lol. but i am feeling a little bit better :)

two more total fucking lies. you feel like absolute shit and your sister is not coming over.

osito 🐻: alright but let me know if you need anything, vale? te quiero mucho.

fuck, your heart.

you quickly respond to him saying you love him back with bunch of heart emojis before tossing your phone on the bed once again. more tears trail down your face, quiet sobs fall from your trembling lips.

an irresponsible liar.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

not only you’re a liar but a terrible girlfriend.

ever since you found out about the pregnancy, you’ve been avoiding miguel. not answering his texts, missing his calls to answer later and give him a bullshit excuse. since you live in the same complex and are fucking next door neighbors, it’s hard to avoid him since he’s right there.

you know it’s hurting him and it kills you. one minute you two are kissing and cuddling, then suddenly avoiding him as much as possible. you feel so fucking guilty because miguel doesn’t deserve this. recently you finally told you love each other and now there is sudden distance between you two because of your fears. the guilt has been you eating alive.

the pregnancy hormones don’t help, making you more of an emotional mess. the stock of toilet paper has been decreasing due to the excessive amounts you’ve been using for blowing your nose and cleaning up your tears. you’re just a huge mess.

in addition to being a liar and a horrible girlfriend, you call your best friend instead of your boyfriend to talk about the pregnancy.

“oh my god… does miguel know?” mj asks over the phone, you can hear the shock in her voice.

you close your eyes in guilt. “no…”

“fuck… okay, um- have you told anyone else, your parents, siblings, other relatives?”

“no, you’re the first one to know.”

“okay…” you can hear her sigh heavily. “well, i promise to keep this secret because i figured you don’t want anyone else to know yet.”

you thank her, feeling a bit relieved. mj has always been a trusting friend and you’re grateful for that.

“when did the pill expired?” she inquires.

“three weeks ago.”

you hear her cursing under her breath. “have you made an appointment yet?”

“not yet but i’m planning to.”

“okay, that’s good. that’s a good start.” she said supportingly, trying to help you feel a little better.

tears begin prickling in your eyes. “mj, i’m so scared, i fucked up… it’s all my fault…”

“hey, sweetie no, no, no—”

“yes it is!” you cut her off, finally letting out those tears. “it’s my fault because i didn’t check the stupid expiration date! it was my responsibility and i fucked up! now miguel is gonna hate me—”

“he’s not going to hate you. that man loves you more than anything else in the entire universe.” she said. “i know you’re scared to tell him but i’m 100% sure he’ll never hate you. sure, he’ll be shocked but he’s a kindhearted man, i’m sure he’ll understand.”

mj is right, you know she is. miguel is a kindhearted man and you love that about him. his kindness always capture your heart. how sweet and generous he is, it’s plausible he would understand in a way.

but you’re just so scared to tell him, afraid of his reaction regardless how sweet he is. this is because of your irresponsibility. it’s your fault for not checking on your pill and now face the consequences of it. but miguel is in this mess with you. because of your irresponsibility, you dragged him into this mess.

“honey, i know you’re scared and that’s 100% okay.” she said after you didn’t respond back. “but… you’re gonna have to tell him soon because eventually he will find out and that will be even more messier.”

she’s right and you can’t afford that.

this is already bad as it is.

you can’t hide the truth from him forever. miguel has the right to know, no matter how terrified you are to tell him. you have to tell him, tonight possibly.

“tonight…” you take a deep breath to numb down your anxiety. “tonight i’ll tell him.”

“okay…” mj answers softly. “you’re gonna be fine, it’s gonna be fine, i promise.”

you really hope she’s right.

“thanks, mj. i appreciate this so much, thank you.”

“of course, honey. best friends always support each other. if you need anything, do not ever hesitate to ask. me and the girls will always be there for you.”

god, you really have amazing friends. forever grateful to have them in your life.

after saying your goodbyes and mj telling you to call her after you tell miguel, you hang up. sinking back into your bed, you stare up at the ceiling. thinking of infinite possibilities and scenarios of what will happen to tonight when you tell miguel.

fear still consumes you, eating you up. despite how sweet miguel may be, his reaction is still unpredictable. an unplanned pregnancy isn’t something to be calm about.

but you have to face your fears.

bebé 🌷: hey, can you come over tonight please? there’s something i need to talk about.

your thumb hovers over the ‘send’ button, hesitating for a moment. anxiety strikes your heart viciously. no matter how scared you are, you have to face this. with a shaky breath, you send the message.

your anxiety increases when he doesn’t respond right away. he’s probably busy right now, maybe at the boxing gym. you distract yourself by doing laundry and fixing your bed after days of leaving it undone. half an hour later, your phone dings! with a text.

osito 🐻: claro, preciosa. i’ll be there in 30 mins, on my way right now.

now you have to wait, dreadfully.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

“you good, o’hara?” flash asks.

miguel blinks after spacing out for a bit, too lost in his thoughts. “yeah, i’m fine.”

flash raises a skeptical brow, doubting. “for a man who’s an expert liar on the field, you’re really shitty when you aren’t. what’s up?”

miguel has been asking that himself for the past few days. something has happened that he isn’t aware of. you’ve been avoiding him. he hasn’t seen you in almost a week. when he waits for you to return from work, you don’t show up. when he knocks on your door, you don’t answer. all he gets are text messages with various excuses. miguel doesn’t buy it one bit.

did he do something?

that’s the question that has been repeating in his mind for these past few days. has he done something wrong? did he hurt you in any way? that’s the last thing miguel wants, he never ever wishes to hurt you. you’re his beautiful girl, the owner of his heart. hurting you would be the end of him.

he’s desperate to know what’s wrong but miguel also doesn’t wish to push you. despite the negative thoughts plunging his mind, he’s still respectful.

but goddamnit he wants to know.

he wants to know so badly it hurts.

all miguel wants is to rush over to your apartment, plead to you on his knees to know what he’s done. he isn’t sure if his heart can’t handle it more.

miguel knows you love him. never doubted for a second, not ever once. the intense love you harbor for each other is unmatched, unbreakable.

“is this about your girl?” flash’s voice makes him snap out of his thoughts once again.

“she’s been… distant.” miguel said solemnly, as if it was painful to admit that.

flash only sighs and fold his arms across his chest, allowing miguel to speak his mind.

“i don’t know what happened… i haven’t seen her in almost week. every time i call her, she doesn’t answer. i knock on her door and she doesn’t answer. no matter what i do or when i try to reach her, she avoids me and i don’t know why.”

miguel truly doesn’t know and it frustrates him. it frustrates him that you aren’t able to talk to him and tell him the truth. all miguel wants is you to be comfortable to tell him anything. he wants to be that safe haven you can come to.

you mean so much to him, you have no clue.

you’re his angel.

“i just feel like… did i do something wrong?” miguel frowns solemnly. “i just don’t know what possible reason… everything was alright.”

a deep sigh escapes him as flash takes a step forward. “i’m not sure either since you two have been so lovely dovely, but i’m sure you didn’t do anything, man. maybe she’s been stressed at work but there’s for sure something going on.” he leaves a light hand on miguel’s shoulder. “don’t stress out, man. when the time is right, she’ll come to you.”

miguel takes in his words, giving him a little bit of relief yet the concern lingers. he gives him a nod, appreciating his supportive words.

as him and the rest of gang continue sipping their beers while watching the football game tonight, miguel receives a notification from his phone.

bebé 🌷: hey, can you come over tonight please? there’s something i need to talk about.

his heart skips a beat in rejoice. the first time you texted him first. perhaps flash was right.

osito 🐻: claro, preciosa. i’ll be there in 30 mins, on my way right now.

he never left the pub so quickly. eager yet a bit nervous to finally see you after what feels like forever. all miguel wants is to see his pretty angel.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

heart pounding in your chest. blood pumping with anxiety flowing through your entire body, consuming you whole. you can feel the pulse caught in your throat as you wait for miguel’s arrival.

it’s time, it’s finally time to tell him the truth.

god, you’ve never been so scared in your life.

hands fiddling with each other, palms sweaty and clammy. pacing around the living room. negative thoughts invading your mind like a plague.

it’s gonna be okay, you keep telling yourself as a way to calm down your anxiety. but it isn’t working obviously. those negative thoughts just won’t stop.

miguel is gonna be infuriated. yell at how irresponsible you are and demand for the relationship to end because of you’re lack of responsibility. these thoughts just won’t stop, never-ending.

the knock on the door startles you, making you jump.

fuck, miguel is here.

taking a very deep breath to calm your nerves, you slowly approach the front door. slowly unlocking it, your heart rate skyrockets when you see miguel standing in front of you. his wide eyes meet yours.

“¿bebé, que paso? what’s wrong?” he blurts our questions, his anxiety to blame.

“come in, please…”

you walk away as miguel enters your home and closes the door before taking off his shoes and follows you to the couch. no hug or kiss, miguel takes mental note of that and it worries him more.

miguel hesitates to sit since you refuse to yourself but your pleading eyes convinces him to. he drinks in your anxious state. one hand rubbing your neck, the other over your torso. the pacing back and forth. seeing you this nervous makes him nervous. his elbows rest on his bouncing knees of anxiety, leaned forward as miguel waits for you. he wants to stand up and pull you into his arms than sit on your couch, anxious to hear what you have to tell him.

“please tell me what’s wrong, bebé?”

fuck, by his tone you can tell how worried he is.

you look at him, opening your mouth to say something but immediately closing it. you can’t do this, the anxiety is winning against you. goddamnit you can sense the tears slowly developing. quickly blinking them away, you inhale a deep breath.

“i-i know i’ve been distant and i—” you hiccup. “i’m sorry for hurting you, i never wanted to hurt you. i love you and it killed me to hurt you like this.”

miguel stares at you with big concern eyes and furrowed eyebrows. “bebé, what is this about—”

“please let me finish, miguel.” you plead with sorrowful eyes and he only stares worryingly. “now please believe me when i didn’t mean for any of this and i am forever sorry for putting you in this.”

he feels his heartbeat increase rapidly. never has miguel felt so fucking nervous in his life. what do you mean ‘putting him in this’?

“i’m pregnant.”

the whole fucking world, or the universe, stops. everything just stops, frozen in time. large silence sits unfortunately between you two. you feel your chest tightening, unable to breath, and panic as you notice the all the emotions from miguel’s drops immediately. brown eyes blown wide, color from his face gone, chest begins to heave. he appears as if he’s about to have a heart attack.

“¿qué?…” so quiet yet in disbelief.

you grimace at his reaction, anxiety now skyrocketed. god you want to burst into tears. “i’m so sorry… i’m so sorry, miguel.” those exact tears were coming in. “it’s my fault, i-i wasn’t lying about taking the pill but i—” you choke a sob. “my dumbass didn’t check the expiration date and now—”

while on the verge of tears, you couldn’t read miguel’s expression. he just sat there emotionless other than shocked eyes, it scares you.

“it’s my fault for being so irresponsible and i’m so so so sorry!” you couldn’t back those tears anymore as they slowly trail down your face. “you have every right to be mad. please believe me, i never wanted this and put you through this.” another sob. “i-i’m not even sure if i’ll keep it anyways.”

miguel still doesn’t answer but he isn’t looking at you anymore, instead at his hands in his lap.

“i’m so sorry, miguel!” you sob, hugging yourself thinking he doesn’t want your comfort right now. how could he after what has been revealed?

through your teary eyes, you look at him. still sitting in silence with no emotions. it’s understandable for him to react like this, you throw a bomb on him and flip his entire world upside down. but you secretly wish miguel would say something, a word or noise, just anything because the silence is killing you.

“m-miguel?…” you whisper, sniffling.

the man doesn’t respond.

you repeat his name and still no response. your voice falls deaf upon his ears. instead of answering, miguel silently stands up without eye contact and walks away towards the front door. you observe him putting in his shoes with slightly wide eyes, your anxiety gradually increasing again.

“miguel?…”

with no answer, he opens the door and…

he walks out.

he just walks out.

without saying anything at all.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @marshhbs @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @watertribeissuperior @lovehadlovelost @auiciqa @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @miguelsfavwife @asterrrrose @glossygreene @aefin @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @jadeloverxd @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @zayai @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @scaryplanetdestroyer @totallygyomeiswife

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[anantaru]

hear me out.. this is fluffy 🥹

imagine wriothesley as a dad, especially a girl dad! (thanks to his teaser for this idea!!!)

cw. ・✶ ｡ none, fluff, established relationship (he's your husband), girl dad wriothesley <3 (she's around 6), fem! reader

the love wriothesley has for his daughter is the purest form of love.

it's new— and he has never felt it before, in fact, it cannot be compared with anything else in this universe.

as it was in his life, wriothesley was severely occupied as the duke of the fortress and such was the wonderful reason as to why he likes to appreciate the little moments that happen in your day to day life with your daughter— the feeling of protecting his child was inexpressible, and in order for him to at least miss you both a little bit less or make it become somewhat bearable, wriothesley finds himself romanticizing the morning hours of the day.

the duke starts his day with greeting you, his wife, and his cute daughter before he helps you to get her ready as much as he can— side note your daughter has his eyes, and if words could describe it only a little bit, she looks just like an angel.

also— it might be silly, or maybe it just looks silly seeing your husband struggle like that, but something about him doing your daughters hair was— by the same token, very cute and quite hilarious.

that's when his alter ego, the quote on quote, “hair stylist wriothesley”, comes into place.

not beating around the bush, but your husband was surprisingly very good at doing her hair. obviously, he does it the same way you showed him, yet he will always add a ridiculous amount of bedazzled hair accessories to her head.

to say that wriothesley was a big fan of glittery, sparkly head pieces would be a clear understatement— but do not try to put them on his hair, this dangerous route will take you to a tickle competition you simply cannot win, not even if you tried your hardest.

the duke didn't see anything wrong with clipping a bunch of radiant hair accessories on her head, even though she might end up looking like a disco ball— not that your daughter minds it, archons, she utterly adored it whenever her dad did her hair!

she was, in fact, the biggest fan of her dad doing it, because they got to spend some quality time together before he would be gone for the majority of her day. how he kneels down behind her while she sits on the little seat in front of her child-sized vanity, looking at her dad through glowy, admiring eyes while he does her hair for the day.

sadly, wriothesley knows that after that he has to work, he must and it will always take him all his power to get going— before that though, he will tell you both goodbye, add a small kiss on his daughters forehead before giving you a small peck on the lips.

how deeply he wanted to spend the day with you two, maybe walk around fontaine so you could shop around— because last time you did that, you actually found a matching outfit for you and your daughter and wriothesley found it to be one of the cutest, little memories in his mind.

he even took a picture of the two of you and keeps it in his wallet at all times now. who knows but when he feels like it becomes unbearable while being apart from his family, he tends to just look at it and smile.

when wriothesley met you, his live truly has changed forever.

you gave him pure, unfaltering love, deep compassion and of course— a family, something he thought he'd never be able to have.

being a parent certainly wasn't an easy task, and it was important to navigate through future differences that might occur one way or the other, more so seek out a good way to find the best possible solution for everybody involved.

not only for your marriage sake, but for your own childs sake— and wriothesley cannot wait to teach her valuable life lessons, about giving love to the world and the importance of following your dreams, opening his arms for his child with kindness, provide his cute daughter with hope, real hope.

while lastly, make his child excited to see this world and grow up with two wonderful parents that love her so very much.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[sp0o0kylights]

Eddie was all about desecrating corpses. 

Particularly, the huge ones--and nothing was larger than the burnt out husk of Starcourt. 

Yellow caution tape, muddied and ripped from its time in the weather still decorated parts of the doors. 

The place used to be crawling with security, but that had eased off now, the job returning to a local outfit rather than the smooth and swift guards who previously haunted the joint in pairs. 

It was easy as two days spent camped out in his van, watching the main entrance and a few side doors. In no time at all, Eddie had schedules memorized, points of entry selected and even three possible escape routes should things get dicey.

He didn't expect them to. 

Not when he’d already rolled his checks and came up with a number that, were this an actual D&D game, would make him a happy man. 

It was always a point of contention between him and his Pa. This perception. The natural ability he had that good ‘ol dad just didn’t seem to possess. 

The one that made him patient long enough to get a feel for a gig. 

To know instinctively how hard a job might be, and how to go about doing it safely. 

(Eddie personally doesn't believe much of it is talent. Thinks it is in fact, forcibly learned, due to the nature of his upbringing. 

Grandma and Grandpa Munson, bless their dead, departed souls, had at least given something of a shit. Tried to keep family things family and work things work, even when said work was illegal as it gets. 

They understood things like appearance and public reputation. 

How that kept the pigs off your back and food on your table.)

His Pa had never cared for any of that. 

Eddie didn’t grow up with family meals, or even food in the house let alone on the table. He grew up watchful, forced to learn or take a hit meant for an adult in the process. To weigh the risks against the benefits, and how to charm the pants off an unsuspecting target while doing so. 

It was how he’d escaped his own prison sentence when his Pa finally got eyes too big for his abilities.

Eddi had gotten lucky in that situation. 

Or rather--he’d gotten Wayne. 

Wayne, who gave up his own room, his own bed, for his nephew. Had bought him his sweetheart on his sixteenth birthday and a van on his eighteenth. Both things were used, and a little battered around the edges, and Eddie had almost thrown up the day he accidentally found out Wayne had used his life savings for the damn car, but they were above and beyond anything he had any right too. 

Eddie would be damned without him. 

But he knows his uncle needs help. 

Can't pay for himself and Eddie. Never really could, and so has been giving his nephew literally everything he has in an effort to make up for it until Eddie could help pay his way. 

Not that a singular soul would trust a teenage Munson with such a precious thing as a part time job, and so Eddie had turned to the familiar. 

The mall fire, and the resulting flood of federal agents had really put a damper on his income the past few months. Drugs were risky, and getting riskier with them sniffing about, and things were getting tight again in a way they hadn’t in a long, long time. 

(All it had taken was finding the hidden stack of bills. 

Big ol’ words stamped in red topped every one. Bold letters screaming ‘Overdue’ and ‘Payment Missed’ and ‘Late Fees.’ 

One single letter had panicked Eddie more than any other, the one that clearly said Wayne had been talking to the payday loan place down the street, and he’d be damned if his shortcomings made his Uncle willingly walk into a debt pit so few climbed out of.) 

Growing up like he had, Eddie was trusted in certain circles. Had access to places many didn't as his sole inheritance, because he was known.

 Someone who didn't rat, who could be trusted with given tasks. Who kept to the criminal code, and was good about not backstabbing you if caught.

He’d hit up a few old connections, dropped some hints. Put out “feelers” as one might say. 

Got a nibble and soon enough, Eddie was back in business, getting called up and offered a few small tasks for decent dough. 

Sometimes it was fetching information. 

Sometimes it was ferrying an item.

Today, it was a retrieval.

There was something someone wanted in the ruins of Starcourt--and they were offering an insane amount of money to get it.  

The plans hadn't made sense, not at first. The instructions Eddie had been given sounded outlandish, if not outright total bunk. 

Like the existence of a multi level basement under Starcourt? How the hell had no one caught that being built? 

Or that the security systems down there could possibly still be turned on? After four months? 

Who was even paying for it? 

Eddie had heard stupider things though, and the pay for this little jaunt was good. Too good to pass up. 

"They want a local in case something happens and the rescue squad comes running in. That way, it's just a little trespassing fun. The town deviant getting his kicks in the big scary mall, and not what they think it is." His connection had told him, meeting with Eddie in a Mcdonalds the town over. 

The place had a play palace, big enough to host a number of screaming rugrats. It made for a great cover as they pretended to be just two men in overalls, getting burgers on their lunch. 

Not a soul could hear a sound over the kids screaming, and if a blueprint sat between them then, well, if it looks like a maintenance worker, and it talks like a maintenance worker…

People never did look twice.

"And what else exactly would they think this is?" Eddie asked, munching on the food he got for free as part of even entertaining the offer. 

"A retrieval, Double D." 

Eddie hated that nickname.

"Some rich kid bit it in the fire, and his parents are paying out top dollar to get a few of his things, seein’ as the feds wouldn’t let anybody back in after they condemned the place." The guy, whose name was Mickey said. 

He idly traced a finger along the lines of the blueprint, the path he was wanting Eddie to take. 

(The path Eddie would later ignore, on grounds that it was going to get him caught.) 

 “Specifically a signet ring and car keys.”

“Car keys?” Eddie had asked, mostly in a bid for more information. Mickey was the kind of guy you could breadcrumb into giving more information than he intended to, if one played their cards right.

And Eddie was a damn good poker player. 

“Yup. Goes to a BMW--which they want you to drive to a safe place. Parents think he lost it somewhere around,” Mickey’s finger stopped, before tapping the blueprint twice. “Here.”

Something had niggled in the back of Eddie’s head. The first whispers of recognition, of a fact that he knew something about this--something he couldn’t yet recall. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to ignore it. 

“Who's the kid?” He’d asked. 

Mostly because he was curious, partially because it was a way to ease in the real questions he wanted to ask.

Like what a rich kid was doing four levels down in Starcourt the night of the fire. 

“Does it matter?” Mickey said, but dug into his pockets anyway. Retrieved a little 2 by 3 wallet photo, done in the traditional High School Picture Day style. 

He’d tossed it on the table, and Eddie didn’t react. 

Kept his face perfectly blank, even as his stomach contracted and his breath caught in his chest. 

Carefully pulled the picture to him, to make a show of examining it. 

“Don’t know him.” He lied after a moment, fighting to get his breathing back under control before Mickey figured out what was up. 

“Told you it didn’t matter. What matters is that you get the shit. And hey, while you’re down there…” 

Mickey talked a bit more, and idly, Eddie listened. He knew this little B&E was going to have more components than just retrieving a few things. Had long figured out that this entire front of retrieving “some rich kids keys” was just that--a front. 

Word on the street was that Starcourt was hiding something--something a lot of very powerful people were getting increasingly interested in. He’d rolled his eyes when he caught wind of the first little rumblings, the rumors and whispers that the thing was shrouded in Government secrets and conspiracies, but hadn’t been able to ignore the shit that had come after. 

Likely, the people who had hired him and Mickey understood they had to act now, before someone else did, to see if anything worthwhile was actually down there. 

The real question is why the hell they were using Steve Harrington’s death to do it--when Eddie knew for a fact that Steve Harrington was alive. 

Or alive as anyone could be, at two am at a Shell gas station. 

“Alright.” Eddie said finally, pulling the blueprint towards himself before rolling it up, making sure to casually roll up Harrington’s picture with it. “You got me interested. Half up front and I’m in.”

Mickey grinned at him. “Knew you would be, kid.” 

One hand shake and a hefty envelope later, and Eddie found himself on the way to Starcourt on his very first stakeout. 

It was that first initial look that confirmed it--Harrington’s prized BMW was in fact, still sitting in the parking lot.

Abandoned by rich assholes who absolutely could have paid to have it towed.

Which led to a domino effect of stakeouts, late nights and confrontations, up to and including his present position, counting down the minutes before he could break into Starcourt.

“Ready?” He murmured, and one could be forgiven for thinking he was talking to himself given how quietly he said it.

They would be wrong. 

“Yeah.” The not-so-dead rich kid drawled from the passenger seat.

Eddie tossed a grin at Harrington, who rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Come on, Stevie.” He purred. “Let’s go find out who impersonated your parents, and why they want that ring you supposedly own so badly.” 

“Honestly dude I just want my car back.” 

“That too.” 

Part Two

[fangdokja]

The worst part? You’ve stopped trying to fight it.

❤︎ Synopsis. You can feel him before you see him—a storm disguised as a man, relentless and consuming. No matter how far you run, he always finds you, his obsession tightening like a noose, promising that the worst is yet to come.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! College! Bully x Fem. Reader

♡ Oneshot. Hunted by Him - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 1,157

♡ TW. dom + top yandere, non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances

♡ A/N. This is a prelude or sneak peak to the upcoming Novella for Yandere! College! Bully. As of the moment, I’m 70% done with the first part (psychological). After, I will be working on the second part (explicit non con and sexual torture).

You feel him long before you see him. It’s a suffocating, primal awareness—an instinct screaming danger. There’s no mistaking it, that oppressive energy curling like smoke in the air, seeping into your lungs and setting your nerves alight. His presence is not a whisper or a breeze. It’s a storm on the horizon, a low, thrumming hum in your chest, vibrating with malice and inevitability. Even across the campus courtyard, even amidst the chaos of chattering students and blaring music, you know he’s found you again. He always does.

You’ve tried to escape. Of course, you have. You’ve taken alternate routes, skipped classes, holed up in bathroom stalls until your legs cramped and your breaths came shallow. It doesn’t matter. He’s a hunter—your scent is embedded in his mind, a bloodied trail leading straight to your trembling form. You can’t hide from him. You never could. The futility of it clings to you like damp clothes, cold and suffocating.

When he finally steps into view, your stomach knots. He’s unhurried, his stride easy and languid, as though he has all the time in the world to close the distance. And he does. You can’t run. You can barely breathe. The sheer arrogance in his movements is unbearable, his senior status cloaking him in a sheen of untouchable authority. He doesn’t just rule this place; he’s carved it into his image. Every whispered laugh, every stolen glance, every shadowed corner belongs to him.

The chatter dies down as he passes. People avert their eyes, conversations tapering into murmurs. The weight of his presence silences even the boldest of voices. The air crackles around him, thick with the magnetic pull of his dominance. And then he sees you. His lips curl, and you know, deep in the marrow of your bones, that you’re caught.

You’ve always been caught.

Your fingers clutch at the lukewarm hot choco cup in front of you, trembling as if the ceramic might shield you from the inevitable. It won’t. You know it won’t. He’s already decided, already made you his prey the moment you stepped into his orbit. His boots strike the floor with an unrelenting rhythm, each step a countdown to your unraveling. The air sharpens with his approach, every sound muffled except for the pounding of your heart.

When he reaches your table, he doesn’t speak right away. He looms. His shadow swallows you whole, his towering frame a monument to your insignificance. He’s close enough now that you can see the faint sheen of sweat on his collarbone, smell the expensive cologne mingling with the faintest trace of cigarette smoke. His fingers, long and tapered, rest on the table with casual authority. The other hand reaches for you, tilting your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Skipping again, huh?” His voice is a low rumble, rich and dark like poisoned honey. “You’re making this too easy.”

You try to pull away, but his grip tightens, his thumb brushing against the curve of your jaw. There’s no warmth in the gesture, only control—a reminder of his strength, his dominance. His smirk widens as your breathing hitches, his amusement glittering in those sharp, predatory eyes.

“What?” he murmurs, his tone laced with mock concern. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you finally learning to behave?”

Your silence fuels him. He’s a sadist, a creature of chaos who thrives on your humiliation. Every flinch, every tremor of your lips is a victory for him, a notch in his belt. He’s turned your life into a spectacle, a circus act where you’re the hapless clown and he the ringmaster. A spilled drink, a whispered rumor, a strategically placed ‘accident’—he weaves his web with the precision of a master craftsman, ensuring there’s no escape. And the worst part? No one stops him. No one dares.

He’s the golden boy, the fourth-year idol with a jawline that could cut glass and a body carved from marble. His charisma is lethal, his reputation untouchable. To the world, he’s a hero—to you, he’s a nightmare.

But even nightmares have layers. There’s something darker beneath his cruelty, a gnawing obsession that makes his attention linger a moment too long, his touch press a fraction too hard. He’s not just tormenting you for sport. He’s claiming you, piece by trembling piece.

His hand slides from your chin to your throat, his fingers curling just enough to remind you of the power he wields. His lips brush against your ear, his breath hot and taunting as he whispers, “You know, I’ve been thinking about you. Can’t seem to get you out of my head.”

The words are tender, almost loving, but there’s a venom in them that turns your stomach. His thumb strokes the hollow of your throat, a mockery of affection. “It’s cute how you try to avoid me,” he continues, his voice dropping lower. “Like a little kitten running from the big, bad wolf.”

He pulls back just enough to study your face, his expression inscrutable. There’s amusement there, yes, but also something far darker. Hunger.

“But you’re not very good at hiding, are you?” His thumb traces a slow, deliberate line along your jaw, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “You always end up right where I want you.”

The cafeteria feels impossibly small, the walls closing in as his gaze pins you in place. His smirk deepens, a flash of teeth that sends a shiver down your spine. He’s enjoying this, the sight of you trembling beneath him, the knowledge that you’re powerless against him. And in that moment, you realize that he’s not just a bully. He’s a storm, a force of nature that will consume everything in his path, including you.

Your breath catches as his grip tightens, his fingers pressing just enough to send your pulse skittering. For a brief, horrifying moment, you think he might kiss you right there, his lips hovering inches from yours. But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans closer, his voice a low, velvety whisper. “See you tonight, sweetheart.”

And then he’s gone. The tension breaks like a snapped wire, leaving you gasping for air, your heart pounding against your ribs. The coffee in front of you has gone cold, forgotten. But the worst part isn’t the fear or the humiliation. It’s the tiny, traitorous part of you that wonders what he’ll do when you’re alone tonight.

Because you already know.

And that knowledge is more terrifying than anything else.

────────────

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[keruimi]

Your Dream

Pairing: Obanai Iguro x reader

Warnings: Mention of Sexual Abuse, Death, Total Angst

Note: It has a similar plot with my other Obanai Oneshot but why do I feel like this hurts more? Anyways, I am back to writing Kny especially when it's angst. And yes, it's Obanai Iguro again, my favorite character. The only reason I wrote this is because of the Obamitsu Angst in my fyp like stop reminding me, it really hurts. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it because I don't want to suffer alone.

____________________________

It was a normal life I live, working as an average kakushi who is mostly assigned in the kitchen.

When an odd request from Oyakata-sama changes my routine. When he assigned me to deliver meals to the new pillar, the Snake Hashira, Obanai Iguro.

At the age of eighteen, I finally experienced the anger of a Hashira with just my presence.

Knowing I was silent my whole life, I never found the reason why the Hashira glared at me on our first meeting.

I can't even count how many meals have been ignored or thrown whenever I deliver it to him.

Feeding the Snake Hashira became part of my routine that I completely memorize the route of his manor since he doesn't want anyone to be with him.

"Y/n, please take care of Obanai Iguro's health for me"

Those are the words I hold onto as I tolerated the cold treatment of the Hashira.

I lost track of the times I stay outside the freezing cold when he doesn't want to open his door for me.

It became more torturing when my heart suddenly beat faster when he started treating me differently after a year.

When he finally started to accept the food I cooked and delivered to his manor. Even if he can't finish it, I am thankful that it wouldn't become a waste anymore.

I knew our simple interaction progressed more when he allowed me to come closer to his space. Even a job that I shouldn't be doing, I'm doing it for him.

Like cleaning his manor, grinding ink for him, and helping him sort different poetry he has written.

Those simple moments introduce me to the new side of him that I slowly fell in love with.

It made me want to try harder until the walls he built around him completely fall down.

Until he can finally open his heart to me.

But that friendship I tried to stabilize, brick by brick, became nothing when he met her in the Ubuyashiki mansion.

My effort is almost nothing with how easy she manages to make him soften to her.

And I started to look for the reasons why.

The friendship I tried so hard to build is ruined and I felt like I went back to the first time we met.

The cautious aura that made it difficult for me to connect to him.

And I knew those thoughts are really happening when the food I brought is left untouched.

"I have already eaten with Mitsuri"

It was the sentence I kept hearing but I didn't stop doing my duty of making his food for him.

Because I learned to love taking care of him.

Those tasty delicacies I used to love cooking, change when I noticed he was disgusted just by the smell of it.

I adjusted so many things that I completely forgot what I really love.

Just to serve him right.

I prevent the cough that is threatening to leave my mouth as I grind ink for the Hashira I am serving.

As he wrote the letter he always sent to her.

It was breaking me. But I have no right to feel anything for him.

I already knew ever since, that a high-ranking warrior like him is not meant to love me.

But the weak side of me silently yearn that he can return it.

But seeing how in love he is with another woman. I knew I never had a place in his heart.

But just a mere presence that accompanies him in the garden.

I was just a shadow he would never notice. A person that serves him, and he would not change his perspective on me.

I was beside him so I could serve him, not to love him.

I wipe the single tear and escape my eyes before he notices as I force my body to move according to what he wishes.

While he remained clueless of my emotion that I tried so hard to get rid of.

The emotion that broke my heart when I saw the ring in his room while I was cleaning.

I could never look at the mirror just to see how my eyes portrayed the pain I felt when I saw it.

"Obanai-san really liked Mitsuri, don't you?" I mustered up the courage to speak my thoughts with a slight teasing tone as my back faced him.

I bit my lip to stop the sob that is threatening to be heard as I heard shuffling behind me.

"Obanai-san must treat Mitsuri-san right. Marriage is a dream for every woman. Especially when they will have a good man to love" I turned to him with a smile as I slowly opened my eyes and saw how soft his eyes turned because of embarrassment.

I don't know his past. I don't know what he loves.

I don't know Obanai Iguro.

But I know he has a hard time trusting others.

"I hope you both live a happy life" I managed to let out but it came out as a whisper as I took my things and left the room.

I froze the moment I left his manor as the tears I managed to subside finally escaped my eyes as I found myself crying on the way back to the village I live in.

I knew it was coming but my heart won't stop aching. My eyes can't stop crying. My mouth can't stop sobbing.

I really love him.

But he is not mine.

~•°•~

I lost track of the years when the female kakushi started to serve me.

The only woman I allow to enter my manor with the excuse of serving me.

Because I thought of changing myself even a little no matter how much I feel fear or disgusted by a female approaching me.

Because she gave effort to providing me with the most comfortable thing I needed. Especially during my meal time.

Starting with a simple window being opened, creating less flavorful food that I can tolerate.

I knew she was adjusting for me so I let her presence in my everyday life. Until that became like a friendship I was thankful for.

I can talk to someone about things without including battles.

I love her like a family.

That explained how my body felt frozen when I heard the news of what happened to her on the way to my manor.

The news of her being taken advantage of by a man who manages to memorize her route to my manor due to her everyday routine of walking her way there.

The anger I felt was unexplainable that I can find myself hurting a fellow human.

I knew humans can be evil, but I didn't know I could hate them more than I hate demons.

But I thought I made a mistake too.

If I just let her stay in my manor so she wouldn't exert too much energy just for my food, I could protect her better.

I know I'm slowly losing control when my self-restraint almost fell apart when I visited her quarters and I found her silently sitting at the corner of her room, hugging her knees.

As the spark in her eyes completely vanishes.

"She refused to eat nor let another woman near her. When the others approach her, she flinches. We don't know how to approach her anymore" the Kakushi who led me to her room stuttered out as I felt my hand grip the wooden door in anger.

Yet my eyes badly wanted to cry for her.

"Shinobu tried to check on her but she started to cry whether she was near. We just confirm the situation when the evidence of the sexual abuse was present in her body when we found her unconscious in the forest"

"Stop talking" I snap at him who immediately keeps his mouth shut as my snake hiss at him who scurried away.

"Y/n, it's me" I knocked on the door even though it was already open to make her aware of my presence in the room.

I don't know how I control my voice who I thought will be expressed in a trembled tone.

I am a man.

That is the first thought that came to my mind that made me decide to sit at the floor near the door.

"Obanai Iguro, you know me, right?" I spoke again and she kept her silence making my hands tighten its hold on my pants.

I'm not used to this side of her.

"Are you scared of me?" I asked slowly as silence occupied the entire room before she shook her head a little.

"May I come closer?"

With that question, I notice how her hands tighten on the blanket surrounding her making me release a shaky breath.

I never knew I was willing to hurt a fellow human just for her.

It made me want to make the man suffer badly. Worse than what he did to her.

"I'm sorry" I was left speechless when those were left on her lips and I immediately shook my head.

"Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. It was them that wronged you" I am not good at words but I wanted to completely express my concern and pain for her.

I badly wanted to avenge her.

"It was me who should apologize because I was not there for you"

"I am not your responsibility..." She whispered and I shook my head once again, wishing for her to look at me even once so she can see how badly I am hurt for what she has experience.

How desperate I am to show she was not alone during this time.

"You are. Because you are important to me" I felt tears in my eyes as Kaburamaru slithered his way to her and slowly circled around her shoulder in a protective manner.

"I am tainted..."

"You're not" I firmly stated. "I am the tainted one between the two of us" those words quickly left my lips without any hesitations and she finally had the courage to look in my direction.

"So don't look at yourself that way. For me, you are still the same Y/n that accompanied me" I stuttered out as I tried to stabilize my breathing.

"I will seek justice for you. That's a promise"

I saw how a tear left her eyes as she looked outside the window. Removing her gaze on me.

"In our generation, marriage is every woman's dreams. Is a symbol of acceptance. Is where you will really feel you are loved and chosen by someone" she whispered.

"But in order to be chosen, you need to be pure, compliant, and well-mannered. That's what it takes to be a good wife" she stated as Kaburamaru nuzzled his head on her cheek when he noticed her difficulty in breathing.

I badly want to lend her my shoulder to lean on, an advice to make her mind clear. But in this situation, we both knew she just needed an ear to listen to her.

Someone to comfort her with just presence.

"But if you don't meet those requirements, you will be shunned by society. You will lose the qualification that a wife has."

"Right now, I will not be the wife of someone. I will not be married to a man I will dedicate my life to. Because I don't have my purity that only my husband should have." She whispered.

It was a painful word to state out loud. But right now, I can't read her.

Because she completely closed off her emotions.

"I don't fit the standard that a wife should have." She whispered as she buried herself in her blanket that hid herself from me.

"And it hurted so badly"

I closed my eyes when she spoke those words.

And I hate myself because I can't do anything for her but just torture her attacker.

"What else is your dream other than marriage?" I ask her as she closes her eyes to rest it for a little while.

"I want to meet the one that is willing to spend their entire life with me" it was a hopeful wish.

Silence occupy the room and I thought she fall asleep until she whispered the words I never expected to hear from her.

"I love you..." It was barely heard but I knew it was the words she hide for so long.

That made it known to me that I could grant that dream to her.

But I decide to give her the time she needs to heal from that painful experience.

She needs to heal.

Those are the thoughts I could only think of as I laid her down in her bed in a more comfortable position when I noticed she had finally fallen asleep.

But I never expected that it would be the last time I would see her with her eyes open.

Because when I came back the next day, the news of her death was the one that greeted me.

It was a nocturnal death because her heart failed during her sleep.

It finally felt like my whole world collapsed and my mind completely shut down.

If it weren't for Sanemi being beside me, I would have completely fallen on the floor as I kneel in front of her room.

It hurts.

I wanted it to stop.

But I know that nothing could make her happy anymore.

Because that nightmare would continue living within her for the rest of her life.

I never manage to cherish her smiles more. I only shrugged the moments I have with her because I thought we would stay that way.

That I never knew I was running out of time.

It took every cell in my body to approach her cold body that is covered with white cloth as I kneeled beside her.

I silently slid the ring that she found on my mansion in her finger as tears continued escaping from my eyes as Sanemi just stood behind me.

I lost someone who made me feel like I have the family I never have.

In this life, we were parted to heal.

But I will make sure that her wish will be granted.

"In this life" I started to whisper as my lips lean on her fingers where the ring stays.

"As God as my witness, I promise to take you as my bride. Give myself as your other half" I keep mumbling as I squeeze her cold hand as tears continue to fall from my eyes.

"That even death can never separate us. Because in our next life, I'll make sure, that I will utter this words to you again"

And in that life, you will be alive to hear it

[chuchurio]

“Perfectly fine."

* Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Synopsis: Gojo becomes your project partner and things don’t go as planned. You distance yourself only to run into him at a party.

Genre: slow burn, a bit angsty, College AU, polar opposites, Gojo making a fool of himself,

WC: 7.1k

Warnings: Drinking. That’s it lol.

You were supposed to be having fun at this party. You’ve been waiting for the weekend to drink and forget your responsibilities. You’re not new to the image of drunk college students and sweaty bodies with the linger of hormones in the air. 

 It was normal. Everyone wants to unwind, and give in to the haze and blurs that alcohol provides. Sure, a majority of you were drinking under the age requirement but there’s a liberty not many experience when you willingly take a sip of that bitter mixture. 

This still fucking sucks. 

You drag out a sigh and fix your posture against the wall. You weren’t usually stuck to it, even when people would push and shove. You’d usually be slotted between people, rolling your hips and gravitating toward anyone allowing the rhythm to erase time. This though? Not cool and it hasn’t been ever since he popped up. 

He was such an obnoxious idiot that you swore to steer away from him because although you weren’t one for prejudice— he was someone you’d never consider talking to. He’s always been there, and could almost make you believe in that little cliche of red strings. 

If there were any romantic feelings involved of course. 

That wasn’t the case. . 

.

.

.

It started in the communications course you took. The class was just a filler for you, something that was supposed to be an easy pass. You were sitting alone like in most classes you didn’t care much for. Your advisor had said the class would be the easiest ‘A’ you’d receive in the semester, feeling dumb if you didn’t take it. So you did what any person would do for a degree. 

The metal chairs had enough space to move but not enough to where you could accidentally touch elbows. It’s a cramped place, but it’ll have to do for a few months. It’s common for students to leave an empty seat for their bags or even just simple boundaries.

God knows you needed a bit of that. 

Nonetheless, it was short-lived, a loud thud making your body take a screenshot and your blood freeze. The backpack was thrown carelessly by your feet, already a bad sign. you look up to see who is disturbing your peace. 

“‘Voluntarily signing up’ is not what I would call it.” He complained on the phone with a frown, annoyed at the receiver. 

The man was handsome. You couldn’t lie, he had a charm to him that didn’t require speech, a little smile and it’d bring a flock of women, blue eyes that you’d poke fun at if it wasn’t for how.. complimentary it was on him? He had nepo baby written all over him. 

Best you mind your business. 

Good for you. 

Then he outstretched his legs over the table, pretty close to your notebook as he continued to yap ignorantly while remaining too close for comfort. 

You held back a glare and flickered your eyes over to him, slowly scooting your notebook to the left, deciding to go a passive route. Until he moved them again— 

“Excuse me. Can you please not?” You requested softly but he didn’t even offer you a glance. Were you not loud enough? What the hell is this dude’s deal? 

He continued to talk without regard to what you asked for – as if you were a fly buzzing along his ears. 

This is the part you truly regret. Deep, deep, down. 

You harshly shoved his legs off the table, earning a stumbled sentence out of the white-haired guy. 

“Fuck– hey! It’s rude to interrupt a phone call!” his gaze fell on you and found your eyes staring right back at him with a smidgen of anger.

Gojo hadn’t taken a glance around the room, too busy being annoyed to take into account who was in the class. All he asked for was a free period. He wanted time to maybe go lounge around the many campus lobbies, give a pretty sight to tourists who’ll be in awe of his appearance, or even bother his friend Suguru about the latest mistakes he made. 

Instead, he was placed in a boring ass communications class. 

He’s been trying to contact his advisor to fix this shit all week, and he’s been ignoring his calls. He had been ranting to Suguru the whole way, flashing a smile toward familiar faces. To the ones he’d fuck around with at least. 

Now he was here, staring right back at your pretty eyes. His tone took a turn from its original annoyance. 

“Well, You’ve got all my attention.” his voice was smooth, similar to how a hot pan bubbled cold butter. It could’ve sent chills down your spine. 

You rolled your eyes, unimpressed by his facade. 

“Watch your legs.” You repeated more sternly. You could feel his eyes scan you — honestly, he’s shamelessly moving his gaze up and down your figure. Your eyes narrowed at the blatant stare. 

He chuckles, giving you a practiced smile that comes with ease, “Didn’t think it got in your way, faults mine.” He didn’t actually pay attention to what he had done before, his mind set to ask about the woman beside him. 

“What’s ya name?” 

You make a hum, not giving him a proper answer.

“Okay – mmm, I like it. Easy name to call out for you.” He gave you a wink, only earning a confused look from you. You weren’t picking up any of his bullshit, this was easy to see, you were a good observer after all. If your demeanor didn’t show it, surely your grades did. 

Your nose scrunched in distaste, his flirtation crashing against the wall you built around yourself. There was an awkward silence, his smile growing strained as you exchanged opposite expressions. You only sighed and muttered a little ‘Please don’t let it happen again.’

It was disappointing, to say the least. 

But not for Gojo. You were pretty but not anything he’d go for initially. He had a large pallet, just not a frequent one to stay with a single option. Why do that when he could get a bit of here and there? He respects the grind you got, he can see it in the way you meticulously toy with your pen, how you didn’t hide your view, flickering occasionally in coordination with the important things around the room. Not people though. 

He can be observant too when it benefits him.

After this interaction, there wasn’t much to it. You didn’t think he’d even sit there again with the way things went the first day. To your surprise (and misfortune), he would sit there every class. He learned your name through the professor, explicitly accentuating the syllables in your name. You learned to ignore him, offering hums as responses. He grew tolerable, not likable, but tolerable. 

The only thing you two really had was a greeting, the most exchange of words you both had aside from the little banter you shut down. It was the same shit every time too– 

“Y/n, the only thing I like about this class, how’s it going?” 

“Fine.” 

“Just fine?”

“Perfectly fine.” 

It became a common exchange at each class meeting, some days there was more than just that. Regardless, you kept it at a minimum for your sake. You weren’t a bitch, you swore up and down to yourself that you just can’t keep up with his lifestyle. 

The first thing you notice; is his popularity. People took the time out of their day not only to say hi to him but to have a full-on conversation. He wouldn’t rush it either, he’d stand outside of class just to wrap it up. You could never have that much attention. 

The next thing to catch your eye was the amount of women around him. Again, it’s none of your business – however! When you do run into him, he’s either standing there with charm mode activated or with discomfort. The discomfort is usually when he’s rejecting a girl- again, that’s neither here nor there. 

And finally, the biggest problem was; that he was pretty. It might seem like he was harmless, but that’s how he dragged you in. And you weren’t going to be one of them. 

All you have to do is stay away from Satoru Gojo, and you’ll survive the class. That plan would’ve gone great if this communication class didn’t require a partner project.

The professor didn’t like you, because ‘GOJO’ is written beside your last name in big fat letters. You had to be cursed, there was no way they partnered you up with him! His name settled beside yours like it was taunting you right in the face. You heard a faint snicker, making you glance in its direction. Gojo failed to hide his smirk, the cough he made couldn’t disguise it. You sat there, trying to make an excuse, your brain and mouth not cooperating to form words but rather sounds.

“So, Y/n, you’re the lucky gal huh?” You looked up at him, slight disgust making him put his hands up in defeat with a lazy smile appearing in defense. 

You frantically look around if anyone is just as disturbed by their assigned partner, but no one bats you an eye. 

“Fuck.” you grumbled weakly, with a sigh. You’d have no choice anyway. 

It was the start of this whole mess. 

It was a challenge to meet up at first. You’d text a time, sometimes a day, and his response would be along the same lines. 

‘Ohhhh I have practice today’ 

‘Ahh that was today?? I’m not on campus’ 

‘I was free buttt I’m tutoring’ 

That tutoring one was a complete lie to begin with, you caught on after seeing him with girls from the cheer team, sometimes the volleyball players. You had no faith in his reliability. 

You’d show up to the library, silently skimming and taking notes on what was needed, the smell of food in the dining hall would occasionally greet you when you studied there. One of these days you were bound to run into him, which you did. 

His laugh came to a rough halt, shoes squeaking in a stop too. “Y/n?? Woahhh didn’t think I’d see you here.” He looks surprised, a bit guilty? He should be anyway. 

You flicker your gaze to the pretty brunette beside him. She wasn’t fazed by the interaction, continuing to sip on her drink while looking directly at you. 

“Yeah.. who’d figure I’d come study… at a library..” you uttered out. He makes a wince, scratching the back of his neck. “I dont have my laptop on me right now…” it was like he was trying to negotiate. 

He suddenly perked up, the imaginary lightbulb obvious with the way his demeanor changed. “You can come to my dorm tomorrow, swear I’ll have everything laid out for you,” you narrow your eyes, not convinced. 

“I already have most–” 

He pushes up his glasses, doing one of his poses (were they timed? You weren’t sure) “I wouldn’t be an amazing partner if I didn't offer, I know.” 

That’s how you ended up walking up to his dorm building. Good thing you set things straight beforehand, a little plan for you two to follow. 

You had taken the time out of your day to research the information that might align with your points, making a document of the ones that would support your argument. You gave him a few links and met to discuss which would work. It’s as easy as it sounds. 

It didn’t go as you thought. 

“Gojo please just read this last paragraph so I can take my ass to bed.” You complained, shaking the distracted man to offer a sliver of attention to the listed sources. 

He scoffs and lets out a loud dramatic sigh, “I will! I will! Just let me finish this level real quick.” 

After a few hangouts, you’d expect him to stop being so childish. You thought that it was one of those things where the person acts like an idiot but is secretly a mastermind of sorts. You’ve been trying to get him to meet up again and it’s been difficult to pin him down. 

It’s like everyone wants Gojo for something, Not you though, you’re forced to. 

“I have to walk back to my dorm and it's freezing cold–” He wasn’t listening to you. You glared at the white-haired man, irritated. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, with a huff you reached for his phone – with much protest – and turned it off. 

“Seriously. We need to get it together! I need a good grade!” He only whines and tries to reach for his phone again. 

“Come onnnn just let me finish it!” he reached up, making you flex your arm higher. 

“No. We’re getting this done–” 

He scoffs again, “I’m taller than you don’t forget that.” 

He flexed farther than you, his arm pressed against yours as you fought to keep it out of his reach. You’d try to push him off, annoyed he gave it a shot. He does the same, trying to gain the upper hand. 

“Dude it’s not that serious!” He huffed out, your arm moving swiftly in the air to keep out of his reach. 

“I should be saying the same to you-” You yelp at the sudden weight that toppled over you. Gojo overpowered you quickly, making you fall in defeat. His hand shot out in an attempt to not completely fall on you. 

You freeze, staring back at him with a surprised expression. He does seemingly the same with his smile nowhere to be seen. 

You blink. He blinks. 

He stares. You stare. 

After a few awkward seconds, you clear your throat, turning your head to the side to avoid eye contact. Breaking him out of his trance, he swiftly backs up, trying to act nonchalant about the accident. 

“I’ll read through it tomorrow.” He said, leaning his back against the small makeshift desk. You sit up, gently scratching the back of your neck. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.” You reached for your books, closing your laptop and gesturing to his door, “I should like, probably head back–” He agreed almost immediately, helping you pack your things. 

But that wasn’t the only time things... Were weird. 

A few days later he began to greet you outside of class. It was something small, but it made a difference when the people he hung out with gave him a strange look. You’d only offer a little wave and remain casual or else you’d overthink the way you walk too. 

Then he began to frequent the actual library suggestions. Letting him know that you research the topics a few hours before discussing them with him. It was a way for you to think... Until he started appearing for that as well. 

You were sitting at a small cubicle-like table, the booths private with the only way in being from the left. He was busy lazing around on his phone, flickering to you once in a while. You were silently reading over the added post, with a sigh. “I don’t know why you keep reading over it, is it that bad?” he asked mindlessly, earning a bit of a scowl from you. 

“An A is considered anything above a 93, for this specific project,” you read it out loud, hoping he’d feel the same about it. He just looked at you, before shrugging and going back to scrolling through his phone. “I’ll take a C too.. It’s passing,”

“That’s it?? You’re just conceding that fast??” He raised a brow, looking over at you with confusion, “Conceding is a bit dramatic don’t you think?–” You shake your head and push back your hair from your face as if it’d fix the score details. 

He has caught onto that habit, the way you want to be upset but don’t know if to focus on working with the new information or if to let the feeling take over. He sighs and slides over to your side, “Alright what about the rest of them?” You open your mouth to rebuttal, wanting to tell him that it didn’t matter because an A is the only reasonable grade. 

“Aht– I said what are the other scores, we know an A is higher than a 93.” You go silent, reluctantly sharing your laptop screen with him. 

“92 to 85 is a B, and 84 to 78 is a C,” He nods slowly, listening to you read the score grades for the project. “And a D?” You shot him a glare, making him raise his hands in defense. “Kidding– jeez tough crowd.” He mumbled. 

You can see him looking at the scores with the same disdain. He makes a hum, his thumb pressing to his chin before making a hum. “The most you’re getting out of me is a C,” 

You gasp, shaking your head, “Seriously?? Not even a B??” Your voice held a tremble, in disbelief at his honesty.

 “I can give something in the low 80’s if I try–” 

“That’s not even closer to a B Satoru!” You whisper yelled, nudging his shoulder. He dramatically fell back, a whine leaving his mouth. “Have some mercy on a soul like mine, don’t you have some compassion?” He batted his lashes, your stare in disgust as if he were some pest. 

“Seriously, I’ll help you out just tryyyy for that A pleaseee” You groaned out, trying to come up with a sort of excuse that’d encourage him. “A deal. Care to give me an offer?” He said teasingly, sitting up and once again interested, hoping you took the bait. 

You huff, gnawing at your thumb to think. Something that Satoru would want.. a motivation of sorts.. He already has money and luxuries she can’t even afford. 

He was watching silently, he’s grown to find pleasant the way your features would seem alert when you tried to focus. Your brows would crinkle just a bit, lips wrapped around your finger while you nibble on your nail in thought. 

“How about.. You do most of the talking for the presentation.. And I’ll do all the slides, you won't lay a finger aside from researching!” You quipped, looking over to see him looking at you silently. He hummed in response, “Hmmm I guess.” He said softly. 

That’s when you noticed just how close he was, his leg pressed close to yours, resting his chin against his palm as he kept his eye on you. 

He was close, too close for comfort, your body growing warm at the proximity. You swore you saw his gaze flicker down, his words leaving an unkept flutter in your stomach. 

“Is there anything else an A can get me?” His voice was low, the question technically innocent. Your body felt otherwise. 

Your mouth goes dry as if kindergarten had never done its job to teach you the alphabet, like the letters look more like symbols and you can’t communicate— that type of feeling. 

You tear your gaze away, a choked laugh making its way out. “W-We can go to that dumpling stand near campus. It’ll be on me.” You scoot away, your attention diverted elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to you, he was disappointed at your retraction, strangely hoping you would’ve remained in that position. 

—————————

Days would go by, forcing him to stay late to study, reaffirming his tone to perfection. He would complain at first, reluctant to show up. You went as far as getting in contact with that pretty brunette he was with last time. 

“So.. He’s actually trying to get a higher grade than a C?” She asked with a hint of surprise to her tone. You nod, trying to get her on board with your meticulous plan, “An A to be exact.. I really need the grade..” 

“And he agreed to it?” She asked, eyebrow raised. You nod once again, “He’ll focus on speech and delivery, while I do the background stuff.. I just need him to remain concentrated.” His word was something but having extra help wouldn’t be a bad idea either. 

“Wow.. is that so?” she trailed off, making you a bit nervous. You quickly reassured the woman, “Are you dating him? Because I don’t have intentions of–” The girl’s eyes widened before letting out a dry laugh. 

“That’s not it- I’m just surprised he is promising to try for an A… he’s more of a.. you know,” she makes a little motion with her arm and shrugs, “Go with the flow typa guy.” 

You felt a growing embarrassment wondering why you assumed that was an option to begin with—specifically the dip in her stomach while waiting for her response. 

You’d come to find out the girl’s name was ‘Shoko’ and thankfully so she did help out to keep him in line. Sometimes he’d come whining, dragged along by the unphased woman, other days she’d manage to steal his phone and hand it to you as ransom. She was great truly. 

Eventually, he’d start showing up on his own. Dragging Shoko to your sessions so she could listen to him recite the presentation. You’d both share your laptop even if he brought his own, he would get you snacks and even show you the research and points he found. 

Shoko even jokes you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. You want to beat yourself for feeling pride at the thought. 

. 

.

.

You’re brought out of your thoughts to Satoru calling out your name, “Finally, been repeating your name for a while now– you ready?” He asked with a smile, the sight bringing you another wave of nervousness for some reason. 

“Yeaahhh…” you trailed off before shaking your head and making a disappointed hum. He wouldn’t admit it, but he found it rather cute.. The more he talked to you, the more expressive you had become. 

Just how far would he go to see it all? 

“Hey, we’re prepared. You prepared us very well.” He was trying to ease you, flashing you another smile and a playful wink, “Now let me win it for ya.” 

This was it. The outcome was now in his hands. 

“I know you will.” You said softly, and somewhere there, you could see the peaks of his ears crimson up, but he’d clear his throat and turn away. 

“ ‘kay then, let’s not lose points for showing up late.”

————————

You’re sitting beside Satoru, his body draped across the lounge chair at the library. You’ve been refreshing Canvas for the past 10 minutes, waiting for your final grade to appear. 

“I’m sure they’ll post it soon, chill,” he commented mindlessly, his arm lazily nudging you. You shake your head, gnawing at your nail as you wait for the blank line to be replaced with a number. 

He kept his eye on you before sitting up and scooching closer to where you sat. He rests his cheek against his hand, watching you silently. Finally, he catches your attention, hesitantly glancing in his direction. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m.. fine.” 

“Just fine?” 

You couldn’t help but feel the smile creeping up your face, unable to hide the appreciation for his concern, 

“Perfectly fine.” You finally spoke, taking a deep breath and nodding, as if affirming your last statement. He lost your gaze to the screen again, staring expectantly and fidgeting with your nails by flicking them against each other. 

He reached for your hand, his touch warm as he stopped you from continuing the nervous action. That alone made you slowly turn to him. You silently stare, unsure whether this squeezing in your chest is a good sign. 

He replicated your smile, “You gave the right links, You didn’t stutter, that’s a good grade to me.” he reassured you. You only nodded again, your brain telling you to retract from his hold, but your body didn’t listen. He looked back at you with the same expression, beginning to gently run his thumb across the back of your hand. 

“Actually, I was thinking we could–” Your laptop made a happy chime, an email regarding to the updated grades. “It’s in!” You pull your hand away with no thought, leaving Satoru with a slight sulk. 

You scroll through the assignments, clicking the ‘grades section and waiting impatiently for it to load. 

“Holy shit..” you muttered to yourself, a bright smile forming on your lips. 

Sure it wasn’t 100, but a 95? You’ll take it. 

Satoru shoves his face a little closer to the screen and a genuine laugh left his mouth at the score. “Didn’t I say you’d be okay?” 

You roll your eyes, the smile you wore was more relaxed and relieved. “Yeah, yeah, you were right.” 

He leans closer, his expression taunting with the little snicker he made, “That means I winnn” he made a dramatic pose, tips of his fingers to his forehead like he was a know-it-all to begin with. 

True.. You didn’t think he’d get the same grade as you but surely opening the site– he got the same score. 

“Huh… I guess you do..” You mumbled, biting your lip at the number while he continued flaunting the score. 

—--------

It wasn’t a date. You reminded yourself of it constantly;  it's a truce, an agreement, a celebration of your passing grade. Even then, You were fidgeting with the ends of your sweater, readjusting your scarf every ten seconds. Not because you were nervous or anything. 

“Heyyy You got here before me.” He said with a smile, his breathing fanning out in white puffs. You nod, glancing over to the sidewalk, “Better than one of us being late.” He shrugs, beginning to walk in the direction of the stand. 

“How far is it again?” You made a hum, trying to guess an estimate, “About a 15-minute walk or so..” He nods slowly before nudging your shoulder, “Brought your wallet, right? Because I left mineeee” With that tone, it was obvious he left it on purpose. 

“You’re rich.” You deadpanned, watching him snicker before making another shrug, “And? Free food is priceless.” You roll your eyes, a little smile forming on your lips. 

After a while, you did get used to him. He wasn’t as bad as you thought, for the most part. 

“I think this just proves we should be partners for the rest of class?” He suggested coolly, earning a scoff from you and a side eye, “Yeah right.. we had to lock in near the end because of how busy you were.” 

He made a dramatic sigh, “You’re keeping me away from success Sweetheart.” The pet name didn’t fall on deaf ears, a tingling spark waking your senses at the sound of it. 

“Are you saying I’m a lucky charm?” You asked with a brow raised. 

His grin said it all, glancing down at you. “Definitely my lucky charm, yeah.” This was just typical Satoru, his comments coming off as flirty. His charming smile activated, so normal of him, 

But when did it start working on you? 

You look away, needed after this gnawing sensation has started to make itself known, none of it being good. 

There was a time when even looking in his direction made you scowl, where you heard him at a distance and felt exhausted before seeing him. 

But here you are. Talking about anything and everything, he’s listening to you, and you’re openly letting him know. 

There’s an exchange of words rather than an assumption. 

You continue walking down the sidewalk, laughing at another stupid retelling of his daily adventures. 

“The scooter did happen to fuck up over a tiny rock and I ended up crashing into a girl scout’s cookie table..” You couldn’t even discreetly laugh, your voice echoing in fits of laughter. He didn’t have to worry about the cold when you had him feeling warm to the corner of his ears. 

“You’re obnoxious.” You watch him make a dramatic gasp, hand pressed to his chest. 

“I made up for it! I offered to buy the stock they brought but they were convincing enough to make me work beside them.” You cross your arms and nod. “An appeal for their business… I see the vision..” 

He scoffed, nudging your shoulder playfully and making you do the same with light banter. It was childish and you couldn’t help but play along. 

“You know you didn’t put your scarf on properly right?” He quipped out the topic. You glance down, trying to readjust it. “What? I was just trying to stay warm there–” He makes a hum before stopping in his tracks, taking a spot in front of you. “You won't be able to keep the cold out like that…” he murmured, his voice much lower when he came close. 

Your voice grew dim, unable to utter a word as his fingers unwrapped the knitted fabric. His eyes were focused on wrapping it a lot more snugly. “No cold right?” His voice was soothing, kicking out any chill there was before. 

“No..” you said softly, looking to the side to keep your heart from dysfunctioning, his thumb pressed against your chin, lifting it to offer a better angle and leveling your gaze. “I’m not there— but here.” his voice was dangerous to you, caught in sight like a deer in headlights. It was the proximity, unable to stop yourself from looking down at his lips. He must’ve caught on because his own flickered down to yours. 

His thumb pressed to your bottom lip as if he were questioning the realness of the situation. You didn’t stop him, closing your eyes as he drew closer. 

“Satoruuuuu! ‘S that you over there?” 

You opened your eyes, the moment cut short. 

He cursed under his breath, immediately pulling back. He held a tight smile, his expression complex to decipher. “Ah heyyyy, long time no see..” 

You glanced in the direction of the voice, catching a glimpse of a long-haired blonde woman. She was rather pretty, and the clothing she wore defined her figure. She eyed you for a long second, not hiding it at all. 

You made an awkward shuffle, pointing to the stand, “I’ll um.. I’ll go get us some.” he opened his mouth to speak, wanting to stop you, but nothing came out. “Yeah.. thanks..” he said softly, redirecting his focus to the blonde, giving you small glances.

You walked over to the stand, making sure not to stare just yet.. eventually you couldn’t help but glance back. The woman was devouring him with a stare, batting her lashes, smiling sweetly, all of the above really. 

You felt your stomach twist, forcing yourself to look away. A few minutes passed ordering your food, to be honest that was the last thing on your mind but you had to find a way to distract yourself. 

He didn’t mean anything to you.. or that’s what you want to think. You don’t know where this courage had come from, maybe it was the stolen glances or the time spent together, but you felt like things between the two of you could grow different? 

You held a soft smile, hearing your name be called close by. The worker handed you the two food trays, giving them a small ‘thank you’. 

You made your way to the two, hoping to maybe go eat this at the park nearby, or maybe even at the bench near the campus water fountain, his presence was nice— 

“So.. that’s that girl who passed by our cheer practice huh?” The girl spoke, her eyes focused on the white haired man. Her eyes would squint, judgmentally. 

“You dating her?” She asked with a pout, and the idea made your stomach flutter in ways it shouldn’t. 

“Nahh just a partner for class.”  

You stopped in your tracks, your feet growing heavy out of nowhere. Your heart was accelerating in the worst way, trying not to jump to conclusions. 

“Then why are you here?” She asked, looking up at him with faux innocence. You could feel mockery in her voice as if she were ready to start criticizing you without even speaking to you. 

“Didn’t want to disappoint. There’s just not a lot of me to go around ya know?” 

Your heart expands into your throat, body cold when you hear the words leave his mouth. But of course, you forgot.. you weren’t technically friends. 

This was a transaction of sorts, he'll cooperate to give you a good grade, in return he gets the grade too. It was such a simple process that you must’ve forgotten along the way. 

You aren’t friends. 

You guys weren’t in similar groups, your contact list could never double to his, Satoru wouldn’t glance at you if it wasn’t for the required project. It was conventional. 

And unfortunately, not realistic. Satoru would never see you for more than a classmate who helped him out. 

The amount of fabric didn’t save you from the cold breeze that filled you. There was no wind blowing but you felt like a simple graze would make you crumble into the air.

You backed up, trying to not make a sound on your way out. Even if they did hear your feet hit the cement, he wouldn’t glance because well.. he got what he needed, the reason to hangout was over. You can go back to your dorm, begin on personal projects and be satisfied with guaranteeing your full credit.  

You’re upset that you can’t feel relief. 

. 

.

.

. 

That’s how you ended up at this frat party. You’ve been ignoring Satoru for the past few weeks, at all costs. You’d see him appear, and you’d immediately walk the other way. There were times where he’d wave for your attention, to where you just kept your eyes away from him. 

Even when you did this, you had to remind yourself you didn’t like him to begin with. He was annoying, spoiled, and self absorbed. 

But you hated to remind yourself of things you didn’t truly believe. Somewhere along the way you used those reminders to excuse the ache of the many things he wasn’t. 

So there you are. Red solo cup in hand and the wall your only support. Your eyes flicker over to the DJ, the table he used was decorated with littered cups and bold people dancing on top. 

You wish you were that drunk, a part of you knew if you were, it wouldn’t be for fun. That’d be sad and you can tough it out! You don’t need any liquor to move on- 

“Y/n?” 

That voice brought a mirage of a person. They mixed drinks but not enough to give auditory hallucinations right? 

You look up to confirm the owner, your chest feeling tight all of a sudden. 

Satoru is staring at you, surprised. He tried to wave in your face, only making you glance the other way. “Hey it’s been a while!” He yelled excitedly over the music. You still didn’t answer, your eyes focused on your cup. 

You knew he was uncomfortable by the way he shifted, only moving a bit to let people push past him. He sighs, “wallflower huh? I’ll try it out.” He said coolly. 

He proceeded to follow your posture and pressed to the wall. You could almost get Deja vu from how things were going. It was silent between the two of you, he would occasionally steal you glances, and you? 

Well you acted dumb.  

You swerve the drink in a circular spectacle, watching it glimmer with the neon purple of the black light. This was stupid. You, feel stupid. 

“So.. you come here often?” He smirked, flashing you the signature charm. You groaned and rolled your eyes, already beginning to walk away.

“No wait— shit—“ he reached for your arm, softly grasping it before you were fully out of his view. It was gentle enough to shove him off but.. the touch was enough to stop you and wait. 

“How are you?” Your brows furrowed at the question. All these lights rotating from bright colors to dark ones, you saw him under every shade and the question still didn’t seem to have an answer. 

You press your tongue to your cheek, coming closer just because you don’t want to hear any more people give you drunken apologies for pushing you around. You don’t bother looking at him, glancing back down at your cup. 

“I’m fine–“

“Just fine?”

“Couldn’t be better.” 

He nodded slowly, if it weren’t for the ambiance, you could swear there was a bit of a frown at the response. He fumbled with the edge of his cup, for once keeping silent. “Is this what you stopped me for?” You ask, a little upset. 

He looks up, opening his mouth to speak with a confident smile before struggling with the sentence. “Look. I’m sorry about that whole thing last time, I didn’t think she’d talk to me for so long.” You scoff, ripping your hand from his grasp with a little mutter of something along the lines of ‘Go fuck yourself’. He didn’t like how he left things open-ended with you, but even worse— 

He hated how there was no banter like before. 

“Wait! Y/n come on – ” He reached for your wrist again, causing you to press it to your chest. You shake your head and slip past people, wanting out of this place. 

Partying was fun, the lights, the alcohol, and the music gave you this pedestal that you’ll probably never find in the day-to-day. You’ll even do risky dances to regret and laugh about later. 

But when you’re suffocated, the party is a loud trap. It cages you with semi-aware adults, the music is muffling your ears – and your senses are numb. No one moves but you’re pressed against their bodies, caging you. The heat makes the air as useless as water in your lungs. Something once good becomes the worst. 

Now add the guy you almost kissed with that. 

Your body is boiling for you to get the fuck out. 

You push against others, way past the excuse me’s as you feel your throat form a lump and your arms becoming tougher as they block you from sweaty bodies. The lump was growing and it only tugged at the nerves that start the faucet. 

You can hear Satoru right behind you, actually struggling to get by when everyone wants to speak with him. A popularity problem you’d guess, unrecognizability saving you for once. 

A long time ago you might’ve asked to be in that place. Tonight you’re grateful it helps you slip away. 

You could feel the fresh breeze strike your cheek, making your head whip in its direction. Finally, after pushing a random guy to the side without much protest–

You could breathe. 

You inhale deeply, your lung capacity going to its limit just to bring some color back to your face. The night was colder than when you had got there, but your body was too hot to feel like a disturbance. 

Then there was heaving right behind you, repeating the same actions you did. “Shit– y/n give me— a minute,” 

“No, Satoru — what else do you want from me!?” You exasperated, but he shook his head, you could see his brow twitch upward. He was gasping for air, trying to catch his breath. 

“I wanted to apologize.”

“I don’t accept it.” 

“It was unfair to you—“ 

You scoff, your eyes narrow and your throat begins to tighten. The imagery flashes through your head. His slender fingers wrapped around a few strands, his voice trailing off when he’d look down at you, and that stupid fucking look that was the bridge of this whole shit. 

“You lead me on like– like I’m another one of your distractions!” You didn’t mean for your voice to tremble, but it wavered enough to be noticeable. 

He tried to follow after you again causing you to harshly shake it off not wanting to be near him. 

“Is that how you saw it?? I was just-“ he looks just as frustrated as you, trying to understand you while you’re glaring at him with the same eyes he falls into. 

“Your grade mattered that much?— you used me?-“ he immediately began shaking his head at your accusation. “I didn’t even say that!-“ 

“No? You implied it. I heard it all!” You confirmed his worries, pursing his lips before letting out a sigh. “I didn’t mean... I didn’t know what I was saying alright?” His explanation wasn’t enough for you; it was too vague to fix the damage. 

You scoff, muttering a simple ‘of course’ and glaring at the grass. The sound of the music was more audible than your voices, obviously trying to find a way to go about this. 

“Y/n. It isn’t just about the grade— I didn’t care for it!” You shake your head once more, laughing dryly. 

“That’s what you wanted me to see, I knew you were a fucking liar, self absorbed asshole!—“ 

“Oh! Oh yeah?? And you have a stick up your ass all the time! You don’t give a fuck about anything else!“ he retorted back, “Always focused! The perfect student! hardworking! I’m not good enough for you!” 

You looked up at him, confusion overtaking your frustration. “You.. what?” 

“I can’t have a day where you don’t appear, it annoys me – aside from dealing with your nagging in class, I  could hear your damn voice in my sleep, you just had to be my partner?” 

You scoff, “You suck at this.” 

“Shut up. I’m trying here-” he pushed back his hair, frustrated with you. That seems to ease when your chuckle follows.

“I thought you held brawns and beauty,” you mumbled sarcastically, 

 “No, that’d be you.” 

The silence had never befell you both this quick. Breathing was terrifying, looking at him was terrifying, but more so was the acceleration of your heart. You were afraid that your body was pumping blood too fast, that the rhythmic drumming in your ears was audible. 

Satoru watches your silence, before deciding that his tongue was too tied for once. His hand hesitated, before reaching up to cup your cheek. 

Your lashes batted against your soft skin, staring up at him with a silent question. It didn’t take long for him to lower his face to yours. There was no hurry, no comedic comment, just his pride stepping down for once. 

His lips pressed against yours in a gentle kiss, the tension alleviating from weeks of pent-up emotions. He was infuriating with his comments, and stubbornness you sometimes couldn’t stand, 

regardless, your arms loop around his neck, pulling him for another once he begins to pull away.

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Teach a bot to Kiss: Metroplex

Shout out to my friend TBean for sending me a Hal900 fic that clearly inspired me. I also made a little reference to a First aid x Metroplex fic that I read awhile ago. If anyone knows of it, Please link me ToT

Metroplex loves when you read aloud to him. It could be a lonely experience as a living city, often forgotten by its residents. It had been no surprise when the news of first contact reached Metroplex, and he requested to meet one of these humans. Being brought into a city, only to be told the city is who wanted to meet you had been an eye opener to just how big Cybertronians could be.

Introducing yourself to a nearly empty room had felt odd and Scamper, an extension of Metroplex, had been offered as a way to adjust. The autonomous troops had made the transition easy once you understood they were simultaneously separate and connected to the Titan. The giant of few words surprised his fellow Autobots with how chatty he was with you. Requests from both of you for visits were frequent, leading to your placement as Ambassador to him and the bots that resided within. Now you lived inside him, and reminded yourself not to word it like that cause it sounded wrong on so many levels.

Friendship blossomed into a crush on what was essentially a faceless living city. Sure, other bots told you he could transform and indeed had a face, but it was very unlikely you would ever see it. The Titan typically remaining dormant. How could you explain to other humans how long conversations about history and reading aloud led to such feelings. Perhaps Cybertronians would better understand. Or not. You keep this crush to yourself, content in being an ambassador. Between you and the Titan, Ambassador was just a fancy way to say friend.

The command center-like space was empty save for you and some observation drones. His brain took up the middle of the room, surrounded by different panels and screens. Some for communication, some for... you weren't going to try and guess. It was a place you were commonly found, performing "ambassador duties". Sitting on one of these empty panels and speaking or like today, reading to him. Metroplex would sometimes interrupt, asking you to explain a concept or word that did not translate well.

"My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand. To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." You pause to take a breath and Metroplex interrupts.

"What is a kiss?" The voice has no origin, but you can feel it around you. that had taken more time than the rest to get used to. Voices from nowhere.

Explaining things very rarely gave you reason to pause, but this time you hold the open book to your mouth, thinking, feeling cheeks warm as you stall.

"A kiss is a form of affection. Pressing lips together. Like a hug of the mouths." Hugging had been something you explained somewhat recently after he witnessed you and another human hug in greeting. The fact these being, so similar in the value of relationships and connections, had such different ways of expressing it. His auto-troop, Scramble, stood in as a body to demonstrate a hug, and was promptly put to use hugging other autobots. The troops often hugged you when bumping into each other around the Titan's internal routes. You were never sure if it was their own actions or his. Not that you minded. They were always careful with you.

Metroplex often asked for demonstrations, so it was no surprise when the voice, almost timidly, asks for a demonstration of a kiss. Six-gun was nearby, seemingly on standby. Waiting for your answer. Calling out to the bot, he steps closer and kneels to your level. Six-Gun had a permanent battle mask, so you think for a moment.

"Well… Something acceptable between friends is a cheek kiss. In some cultures it is even a common greeting." A small peck to the side of his battle mask. Taking a few steps, you kiss the other side. It felt like kissing a friend.

The visor of Six-Gun lights up, "Well hello to you too!" The extension of Metroplex bumps his battle mask into you gently. A mimicry of your own greeting kiss. You give a smile, and a pat to his face before he moves off again. A quick simple lesson.

"You know Metroplex, I don't feel like I gave you a kiss." You comment as you sit back down, grabbing the book. It was a thought that slipped out.

"Please elaborate."

"It didn't feel like I gave you a kiss. It felt like I kissed Six-gun," Tapping your fingers on the book, rereading the line that made him ask. "I'm not sure where I could even give you a kiss unless you transform." You tried to picture how big he would be. First aid had once told you he was able to stand on the glass over the Titans optics. You would be ant sized!

"The main panel beside you." He speaks after a moment of thought.

You glance over and see a panel that differs from the others. It had never stood out to you before, full of the same buttons and lights everywhere, save for the large one in the center.

"it is a direct interface." He explains, sensing your questioning, "Typically used by my Autonomous troops and drones. Sometimes city speakers."

You slip down from your perch and onto the one indicated. Metroplex speaks again, the lights blinking in time with his words, "I am unsure how to better explain it, but similar to how I see and feel your movements inside of me, but with direct touch with the center."

"I see." Stepping carefully around the smaller lights and buttons, you make way to that center light and kneel in front of it. It pulsates steadily. Placing your hand on it causes the light to ripple. A warmth spreads upwards, the hairs on your arm sticking up.

"I feel you." His voice sounds closer, yet there is still no specific source. "Can you feel me?"

A pulse of light, a pulse of sensation up your arm. Barely there, like a spider crawling up. He was reaching back.

"I think so. Yes, yes I can feel you Metroplex." A sense of giddiness takes over you. You had interreacted with him through various proxies, but this was direct. As face to face as you thought you could be. "I feel you Metroplex."

The pulsing quickens. "I feel you."

The smile can't be helped. Neither can the giggling. "Hello friend."

"Hello friend."

You deduce that it is a sort of feedback loop, or connection. You can feel the edges of his mind. The pleasant curiosity he feels getting to observe you a new way, the glimmer of comfort he feels with you near. Would it be stronger if you were Cybertronian?

Could he feel how you felt about him?

"You are distressed." He states, as if reading your mind, "If it distresses you to kiss me, do not feel obligated."

The way Metroplex says it makes you laugh, "I don't feel obligated. I worry cause-" You run your palm across the glass, watching light follow the motion, "- I shouldn't kiss you. Not without telling you some things." He is silent, waiting for you to continue. "I like you MP."

"I enjoy your presence as well."

"More than friends Metro," You knew that Cybertronians had relationships and love in their own way, "I shouldn't kiss you when I feel this way. Not unless you want to."

"I do want to."

"I mean, feel the same way as me."

"I enjoy your presence greatly, y/n."

The light pulses quickly, and you look up at his brain. It's light, not a solid grasp but you feel it through the connection. A great affection, like a blossom. A reflection of your own heart.

"Oh. Oh!" It's followed by more giddiness as you lean closer. The pulsing quickens, like your own heart beat. Lips against the warm glass. Like the cheek kiss you gave Six-shot. A single chaste peck that leaves a slight smudge. You rub it away with your thumb, watching the light ripple from your touch. His own pulse is slower now.

"May I have another?"

Smiling, hands sliding over the glass, your kiss him again. Slower press of your lips. Followed by a burst of joy, your own and his. Tremors make you pull away, thinking your own excitement was the cause.

It was Metroplex.

His frame shaking, nothing violent, but very notable. Comms started going off, asking the Titan what was going on and if he was okay. You feel his embarrassment, replying to each one and sending out the all clear. You can't resist pressing another kiss to the panel.

[alphajocklover]

Hey man, thanks for the treats! So here’s the deal, I’m a 23-year-old med student, blonde, green eyes, skinnier than I’d like to be, but I’m literally too busy to do anything but study, let alone hit the gym like I really wanna. Even though "relaxing" ain’t in my vocab right now 'cause of the stress I’m livin' with, sometimes I treat myself to a Snickers bar. So yeah, that’d be my pick!

You had never wanted to be that kind of guy, the one whose life revolved around school and studying. You had always been a hard worker, you had to be to get into medical school in the first place, but you had always prided yourself on having a good work-life-studying balance. It had never been easy, but throughout both high school and college you had managed to keep up your grades, work part time to save up for medical school, and have a satisfying social life with a number of close friends. Hell, back in high school you were actually fairly popular. Now that you were in medical school though, it seemed like everything else in your life was falling to the wayside. You didn’t have time for hobbies, parties or friends, you didn’t even have time for your old part time job anymore, as the hours conflicted with your new schedule. The worst part was that even after giving up all that you were still struggling to keep up. You had always been a smart guy, one who thrived in school, but now it seemed that no matter what you did, no matter how much you sacrificed, it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t imagine how hard things would get in two years when you had to do clinicals and actually work at a hospital. You hated to admit it, but your dream of being a doctor had started to feel like a huge trap.

Today was your first night off in months. You had just finished a big exam, one you were certain you only barely passed, and were overjoyed to finally have a moment to relax, even if you were too exhausted to actually do anything fun. You were so tired from everything and so happy to have some time that wasn’t spent studying that you didn’t even question the snickers bar you found in your pantry, convincing yourself you had bought it at a vending machine or something and simply forgotten. You tore off the snickers wrapper carelessly, and took a big bite as you flopped down on a nearby couch, your mind racing as you did. As the chocolate and caramel danced on your tongue, you let your mind wander, imagining if things were different. If you had gone a different route in life, one that allowed you a little more time to just be yourself instead of constantly working. You imagined a life where you didn’t spend so much time worrying about your grades and where you didn’t need to work a part time job to save up for college. Instead of studying you could have thrown yourself into something else, something fun like a club or a sports team. A part of you had always been jealous of how carefree the guys on the football club seemed to be, the guys who worked out for fun or to challenge themselves, not because they were trying to be responsible. Maybe if you hadn’t been so obsessed with your future career, the one you were no longer sure you wanted, you could have been like them. You were fairly athletic in high school, but if you worked out seriously you could have gotten absolutely huge. You could imagine yourself with a body like one of those jocks, or even one better than one of those jocks. In your mind you could picture yourself with broad shoulders and beastly biceps. If you hadn’t spent all that time working at a shitty job to save up for med school you could have had that. You could have joined a sports team, probably football or wrestling. You could have made friends with your teammates. Instead of being fairly popular you could have been the big man on campus! You can almost picture yourself playing football, working out with the guys, making out with cheerleaders. You never thought you wanted a life like that, and had always thought of people who lived for pleasure and fun as being frivolous, dumb even, but… looking back, you can’t help but wonder what it would have been like, what you would have been like.

You relaxed into the couch and let your imagination start to run wild, your body tingling as you did. You imagined going from high school and into college, not having to scrimp and save like some loser, getting by on family money and your football skills. You imagined not worrying about grades, cause only nerds and losers did that, and instead just enjoying your life as an all around stud and football god. You imagined having a different major, probably something cool like business or kinesiology, something that would help you open your own gym one day so that party wouldn’t have to stop when college did. You imagined a life where instead of always working towards a future that disappointed you, you enjoyed the here and now. A life where you could just relax. 

You had gotten so lost in your thoughts that it took you a moment to realize you had finished the Snickers Bar. As you realized you had eaten the whole thing without even thinking about it, you felt a slight chuckle escape your lips, one that quickly grew into a manly guffaw. Did you really just eat the whole Snicker Bar without even thinking about it or enjoying the taste? That was the one cheat on your diet you allowed yourself a week! You could be such a dumbass sometimes. Not that it really mattered. Being smart was for fucking geeks.

You laughed a little as you tried to remember what you had been thinking about moments before. You could swear you were wondering about what your life would be like if you were different… but why would you ever want to be? You had a killer body, great bros to hang with, a sweet job as a personal trainer, and chicks and twinks throwing themselves at you almost every night. Why would you want your life to be any different? The idea of you wanting to be anyone besides the awesome, laidback stud you are… its fucking laughable!

[cinnamanz]

# ONLY ON CAMERA — chapter fifteen!

when katseye's main dancer daniela avanzini accidentally throws shade at chart-topping singer y/n l/n on an interview, the internet erupts in chaos. with y/n already in hot waters with the press over her latest scandal, both their pr teams scramble for damage control. the solution? a 'picture-perfect' fake relationship to turn the headlines in their favor.

ANGEL

IT WASN’T OFTEN that y/n really found herself in the presence of literature. growing up homeschooled in a very musically aligned family, the only form of books she’d ever read were milk-white paper inked and engraved with music notes, spending hours perfecting every note on her instrument. so to find herself surrounded by actual words written on paper, it was safe to say she felt a little lost.

following daniela like a lost puppy, she hovered around the woman’s shoulder, peeking over to occasionally check what she’d picked up and placed in the basket neatly, before scuttering off into a corner of the bookstore and returning back to her a few minutes later.

“you know, you don’t have to check up on me every five minutes, right?” the dancer mumbles in disinterest and slight annoyance at the singer coming and going, sighing deeply. “it’s not like i’m going anywhere.”

a grin makes it home on y/n’s lips, “well, i wouldn’t know about that. you kinda hate me, no? i mean, as we talk right now, you’re probably thinking of a way to escape me.”

daniela barely bats an eyelash at the singer. she wasn’t wrong in a degree, and she kind of was thinking of an escape route about twenty minutes ago, until y/n had shoved bags of pastries from the same cafe they’d gone a few days ago, gently soothing her annoyance before handing it back to y/n to hold, which she eagerly did.

a chuckle makes itself known, rumbling in y/n’s chest as the woman crosses her arms, the bag of the pastries shuffling slightly in her hold. “so, i was right.”

the action earned a roll of daniela’s eyes in return, returning back to her shopping. “don’t let it get to your head.”

daniela’s book shopping didn’t come into a conclusion until an hour later, two baskets full of books that would probably take her a whole year to finish with her current schedule.

and when y/n appears beside her again, scanning the baskets and her features screwed into a contemplative expression, she picks up both baskets without a singular word uttered, striding to the counter.

confused, daniela follows her with pinched brows, slightly annoyed. “what are you doing? i can’t pay for tha-”

“but you’re not the one paying though?” the singer replied coolly as she placed the heavy baskets onto the counter with a slight thud, the employee’s eyes behind said counter about to pop out of its sockets. from the amount of purchase, or the recognition? both, one would say.

for the first time ever, since their initial meeting a few days ago and the constant attitude and sassiness she’d thrown at y/n, daniela felt meek. she stood behind the singer in silence, biting her bottom lip as she thought of a way to thank her, not even noticing the other pull out her wallet and pay for the $1000+ purchase, handing her the bag of pastries.

“here, you take the food and i’ll take the books. they’re heavy, so…” at the sudden quietness she’d received from daniela, nervousness clawed its way up y/n’s chest, missing the usual snark the woman would give her. “did you- did you not want them?”

daniela shook her head, taking the bag of pastries, fingertips brushing against the singer’s palm and god, is her brain malfunctioning? why can’t she think of anything to say? in the corner of her eye, she spots a fan of y/n’s, easy to spot with the merch they had draped over their shoulder. and as their eyes met, she leant up on her tiptoes and gave y/n a peck.

“thank you.” oh wow, so she could be an absolute angel if she wanted to.

masterlist 🎸⋆⭒˚.⋆ next

sorry for the lack of updates today guys!! hopefully this makes up for it. oh and, condolences to yall for the the next chapter. this smau is NAWT as family n health friendly unlike the manon one😇😇😇 js thought i'd throw this out there

taglist : @meganskiendielsbtc @rosiehrs @artrizzler19 @goofymickeyr @sunshinez4 @urmom2314 @meizinisnumberone @yeetaberry127 @xochitlisbest @ssamlovr @saysirhc @nyssalvr @ninguitar @kristalag @1luvkarina @idleyuri @kathleenmikaelson @sed7ction @hazel-tanthamore22 @yazzyminny @vrtualstar @meiphobic @cassiespoiler @yjiminswallet @gtfoiydlyj @taikabui @cceanvvaves @c-yerim @waitsobs @firstclassjaylee @bowforgodjihyo @thepurin @chaepu TAGLIST OPEN!

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 5,818

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Reader pronouns: she/her

Era: the Whisperers

Warnings: language (lots of swearing always haha), typical TWD violence

Summary: Daryl finds himself in a tight spot in the woods when walkers are suddenly behaving in ways they shouldn't.

A/N: This is the first part of a news series! Thanks for joining me on another new adventure.

“How was it?” Carol asked, catching sight of Daryl as he came in.

The archer shrugged. “Got somethin’. Deer. Ain’t much. Was pretty scrawny, but better than nothin’. Dropped it off at the pantry,” he drawled. He hesitated and she saw it immediately.

“What is it?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

Daryl shook his head and shrugged again. “I dunno. S’weird. I felt like somethin’ was watchin’ me out there some of the time.”

She leaned heavily on the counter, a tight frown growing on her face. “Something?”

“Or someone maybe,” Daryl said with a shrug.

The worry lines on her forehead deepened. “Well, did you see any sign of anybody out there? How close were you to here, to Hilltop?”

Daryl hauled his crossbow off his shoulder and shrugged. “I didn’t see shit. And I was a ways off but not far enough. Close enough that if somebody is out there, they’d probably stumble their way here eventually. Made sure nobody could follow me back but—” He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously. “I dunno.”

Carol looked worried and her eyes drifted to Henry where he stood with Alden and Earl, already starting his blacksmith training.

Daryl reflexively reached for his knife in its sheath, meaning to check the sharpness of the blade. He swore when his hand grasped at air. “Fuck!” he growled.

“What is it?” Carol asked.

Daryl sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, annoyed. “I must have left my knife out there… Prob’ly set it down after I gutted the damn deer. There were walkers comin’ and I was in a hurry.” He sighed heavily again. “Shit. I’ll go back for it tomorrow. See what else I can see out there. I can’t shake the damn feeling somethin’ was out there.”

Carol nodded, her brow still furrowed.

“Ya heard anything from Michonne? How’re the kids?” Daryl asked.

Carol’s expression dropped. “Haven’t heard. We’re still… not talking. She’s keeping Alexandria closed off.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hums, swinging his crossbow back up on his shoulder. He was about to go on, but Tara, Jesus, and Aaron come running up. They exchange greetings and hugs before Daryl excuses himself to find some place to crash with Dog for the night.

Carol puts her arm around Henry’s shoulder as they watch him wander toward the barn. “I guess he’s not so bad,” Henry comments. “Henry!” Carol scolds him, but she can’t help laughing a little herself.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning Daryl woke early like usual, plagued by the same old restlessness that never seemed to have a cause or a cure. He wanted his damn knife back, and that nagging feeling was still bothering him, like a tickle at the back of his brain, some itch he couldn’t reach to scratch. That feeling he had been watched the day before. He assembled his gear, grabbed a spare knife, and set off beyond the walls of Hilltop and back into the woods, retracing his route from the day before.

It was easy to retrace his steps. Even if he hadn’t known the woods like the back of his hand by then after his six years of wandering, the circle of vultures and noisy cawing of ravens squabbling over the gut scraps of the carcass drew him. He prepared himself in case there were walkers feeding too. He found the gut pile easily and started to search the ground nearby for his knife. He felt through the leaf litter and kicked over sticks and through nearby bramble but his search was initially fruitless. Did the damn thing sprout legs? What the hell… It wasn’t until he stood up in frustration and really scanned his surroundings that the glint of something silver caught his eye.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed as they landed on the metallic object. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and stood on end. He found himself carefully surveying the entirety of his surroundings again, straining his hearing for any sound of movement, squinting into the shadows cast by the large trees overhead. He cautiously approached the nearby tree trunk, watching where he placed his feet, waiting for someone to pounce like this was a trap and he was the mouse going for the cheese.

His knife was hanging from an arrow shot into the trunk of a huge oak, dangling from a leather strap. Daryl carefully slid it off and inspected it. It looked just as it had the day before, except for the addition of the makeshift loop in order to hang it from the arrow. Oh—and it had been sharpened? The blade was honed to perfection. And the arrow was something else… He grabbed and pulled on the shaft, but the head broke off and remained buried deeply in the tree. He could tell, however, that it had been handmade. The fletching was of stiff, black, glossy feathers with a slightly iridescent sheen. He spun the shaft between his fingers and watched the way the light shone on them, shifting from plum to emerald to shining sapphire blue and then back to deep night. He glanced over his shoulder, frozen, listening.

He didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but he knew one thing for certain now; he wasn’t imagining that feeling of being watched. But who was watching and why would they bother to hang a found knife in case its owner returned? Most people would have considered it a good find and kept it for themselves. He maintained it religiously as a rule. It was in perfect condition. Not that he was complaining… but it seemed fucking peculiar.

As he turned toward home, a raven let out a series of raspy croaks overhead and took flight. The wood was so quiet that Daryl could hear the wind through its wings as it flapped past and wheeled upwards, disappearing into the canopy of the craggy trees.

Daryl began to slowly search the area for any sign of someone, but was surprised and even more perplexed when he couldn’t seem to find a leaf or twig out of place. Not even a damn partial footprint… an impression in the ground. Nothing. The archer scoured the area thoroughly for the next couple hours, knife back in its sheath and the mysterious arrow shaft with its inky black fletching clutched in his right hand. He kept his eyes open for game, but it seemed to be making itself as scarce as clues were. There were seemingly endless game trails, old and new, and he walked them as systematically as he could. It was the easiest way to get around. Step off to either side and the blackberry brambles and vines would tear at your clothes and skin, biting in and drawing blood. That alone should have made it easier to figure out if someone was lurking around, but he found neither track nor trace… With the day wearing on and no sign of anything else out of the ordinary, Daryl conceded and decided to head back to Hilltop. At least he had his knife...

It was nearly dark by the time Daryl could see the walls of Hilltop ahead. Carol happened to be up on the guard platform when he returned, though Henry was absent. “Find anything?” she asked, surveying his expression as he came inside and the walls closed behind him. He was as stoic as always.

His hand went to the handle of his knife, replaced in its sheath. “Yes and no,” he drawled. Furrows appeared in Carol’s forehead. “Found my knife. But it was hangin’ up on this,” he said, holding up the arrow he still had clutched in his hand. “Stuck into a goddamn tree like somebody was waitin’ for me to come back for it.”

“That’s strange,” Carol murmured. She took the shaft and examined it, running a finger along the glossy black feathers at the end. Her eyes met Daryl’s, sharp and wary. Her expression was questioning. Daryl shrugged and shook his head. “I ain’t got a clue. I spent the whole day over there, crisscrossing the trails lookin’ for some sign of who was out there and all I was left with was this damn arrow. Not a boot print, not a broken twig, fuckin’ nothin’. ‘S’like it was left by a damn ghost.”

“Why would someone would pin it up for you to find again? Why wouldn’t they just keep it?” she questioned him, handing the arrow shaft back. Daryl shrugged.

“Dunno…” he murmured, twirling it in his hands. He looked around at the afternoon shadows crawling slowly over Hilltop and sighed. “How’re things? Henry?” he drawled, patting Dog’s head absently.

“He’s… doing okay,” she said, smiling. “I think it’s going to take him a little time to find his place here. But Alden and Earl have gotten him started.”

Daryl nodded. “Can’t be easy tryin’ to figure out bein’ ‘round other kids his age for the first time,” Daryl commented.

“No,” Carol said. “But I’m sure he’ll figure it out,” she added with a tight smile.

Daryl looked up as Jesus, Aaron, and Tara were suddenly making their way down the hill toward him and Carol with grim expressions.

“S’matter?” Daryl drawled, fiddling with his bandana absently as they came to a stop in front of him.

“Early this morning, Aaron and I found Rosita collapsed and exhausted out in the woods. She fired a flare. She and Eugene were working on something when walkers came up on them. Eugene’s hurt. She said she left him in a barn and was trying to get here for help. She’s in the infirmary,” Jesus explained.

“Eugene is still out there,” Aaron said, looking at Daryl. “We could really use your tracking skills. I don’t want to risk him spending another night out there.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. ‘Course.” And the three of them, Daryl, Aaron, and Jesus (and Dog) prepared to head out and search for Eugene.

They headed back toward where Aaron and Jesus had found Rosita and Daryl realized it wasn’t far from where he’d shot the deer and forgotten his knife. He pondered this, but didn’t say anything to Jesus or Aaron. He did, however, continue scrutinizing the ground closely for any sign or Eugene or anyone else.

They came to the edge of a large field and Daryl stopped dead. “What the hell?” he drawled. Aaron and Jesus stopped beside him, squinting at a herd in the field moving in concentric circles.

“Have—have either of you ever seen walkers do that before?” Jesus asked. Both Aaron and Daryl shook their heads.

“Never,” Daryl said, his gaze sharp as he studied the swirling horde. “C’mon. We ain’t got long before dark.” He led the way again with Dog out slightly in front. Moving through the woods as silently as possible, Daryl knew they were now very close to where he’d shot the deer. The hair on the back of his neck prickled again and he stopped as a gust of wind suddenly kicked up at their backs. “Stop,” he said suddenly, throwing up a hand. Jesus and Aaron stood still. “I can hear ‘em,” Daryl drawled. “On the wind.”

Straining their hearing, Jesus and Aaron heard the growls on the wind now too. “They’re following,” Aaron said, glancing back. Through the trees, wandering shapes could barely be seen. “Did they see us?” he asked.

Jesus stared at the incoming herd, suspicious and at a loss. “I don’t know. But we better keep moving.” Night had fallen by the time Daryl was able to trace Rosita’s trail back to the barn. They found Eugene huddled in the cellar. He was nearly incoherent, shaking and sweaty. “C’mon. We gotta go, Eugene,” Daryl insisted.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked concernedly as soon as they had hauled him up from the hidden cellar.

“I took a bad step and dislocated my knee,” Eugene said, still shaking.

“Well, if it’s dislocated we can just pop it back in,” Daryl said, his brow furrowed.

“No. No, listen to me,” he argues, wiping sweat from his brow. “The herd that followed us here is on its way back.”

“I saw their tracks,” Daryl drawled, not understanding his frantic tone and his trembling. “They’re gone…”

“No. It’s not. It’s already been through here twice. It’s lookin’ for me,” he insisted. “Eugene—” Jesus started. “No! We have to get out of here before it comes back! This wasn’t a normal run-of-the-mill bunch of wandering dead,” he says in his Texas twang.

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked, wide-eyed and unsettled by Eugene’s behavior.

He lowered his voice. “When they passed us by, we could hear them—they were whispering to each other.”

Everyone exchanged confused and stunned glances. “You mean they were—talking?” Aaron asked.

Eugene was almost crying he was so frantic. “I know how it sounds! But Rosita heard it too. She’ll corroborate!”

Suddenly, Dog barked. The herd was back and inbound.

Daryl rushed to look out the window. “Shit,” he swore. “They’re gonna cut us off… Look, you two get him outta here. I’ll distract ‘em, lead em away so you can cover some ground. This dun make any damn sense,” Daryl said, pacing the length of the barn.

“They shouldn’t have doubled back like that and they definitely shouldn’t have followed us to the barn,” Jesus agree, shouldering Eugene’s weight with Aaron.

“It ain’t right,” Daryl agreed. “Alrigh’, go. Go! I’ll lead ‘em off. Go! C’mon boy!” Dog rushed after Daryl as the other three made their way slowly in the opposite direction.

Daryl and Dog pounded the pavement as fast as they could until they reached a dilapidated trailer house on the side of the road, not too far from the fork where he’d separated from the others. Daryl hurriedly heaved himself up on the top and withdrew some firecrackers from his bag, flicking his lighter, and lighting the fuse. He tossed them out onto the pavement and they soon were popping and banging with a burst of sound that echoed up and down the lonely road. Dog barked at the herd in the distance and Daryl watched as some of the walkers began to turn toward him and away from the direction of Eugene, Aaron, and Jesus. “Keep ‘em comin’ boy,” he called down to Dog, squinting in the fog and darkness.

All was as it should be at first; the walkers were following the sound. And then suddenly, they weren’t. The ones who had veered off were suddenly pulled back the way they had come as if drawn by some magnetic force correcting their course again. Daryl couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He hurriedly hushed Dog and stared, bewildered and desperate as the horde continued in the direction of his friends.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Shit!”

Daryl hurriedly slung himself over the edge, hung from the edge and then dropped down onto the ground. Dog ran up beside him. Huddled in the grass, he wondered frantically what to do. He had to get to the others—they wouldn’t know what was coming until it was too late. But how?

“Fuck it,” Daryl muttered, straightening up and dashing across the road into the brush on the other side. He followed parallel to the walkers, trying to get ahead of them so he could reach the others, but it was hard as they walked on the old highway and he had to scramble through windfalls and brambles, Dog bouncing in front of him. He found the path of least resistance suddenly cutting closer and closer to the road and the horde.

Overhead, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Daryl ducked low in the shadows, eyeing the progress of the walkers, constantly trying to pass them and stay hidden. Soon the developing fog was closing in around him and he could barely see ten feet. Suddenly, Dog let out a low growl and Daryl froze, sensing some mass behind him. His hand twitched to his knife and he withdrew it. He spun and was face to face with a lunging walker, its hands raised and slashing like claws. He struck with his knife and it dropped. Daryl stumbled backward and swung his bow off his shoulder as his back hit the trunk of a large tree. He fired a bolt as another figure emerged from the fog reaching for him. Dog leapt and attacked as another walker stumbled forward. Daryl readied his knife again. They were closing in. He was hemmed in on all sides, the tree at his back, and as he stood, trying to prepare himself, panic threatening to drown him as he faced the certainty of his own death, he did hear the whispers.

Kill. Kill him. Kill. Tear. Rip him apart. Kill.

“Dog! Here! Get back!” Daryl yelled, waiting for the next of the circle of walkers around him to lunge. He watched with confusion as a huge walking, lumbering toward him, was struck by an arrow, seemingly rained down from above. It fell with weight in front of him, tripping up another. Then Daryl was suddenly struck hard on the head by something which then tumbled down over his shoulder.

Distracted, he looked to see a rough-looking rope ladder with wooden steps cascading beside him from out of the tree. Another walker jolted forward, snarling, and Dog clamped down on its head and didn’t stop biting until it lay still. Daryl kicked another back to keep it off Dog. He craned his neck to look up the ladder, up into the huge old oak tree, but he could see nothing high up in the darkness and haze of the fog. There was a sudden moan and snarl and Daryl found himself holding off a walker at arm’s length, grappling with it to keep its snapping jaws away from his neck. There was a sharp swish and a rush of air and the walker he was fighting went suddenly still, an arrow buried in its face. Daryl had half a moment to note that the fletching was black as midnight before it fell at his feet.

More of the dead pressed in. He stabbed two more and another arrow from above pierced the head of a third. He glanced back up at the tree and the dangling ladder. Did he have a choice? He looked back at the circle of walkers pressing ever more closely in. Another couple began to stagger forward. Dog barked frantically, facing them bravely, trying to protect Daryl. No choice. He had no choice. “Dog! C’mon! Up! Get up!” He seized the bottom of the ladder and pulled it slightly out, using all his weight to hold it taught as Dog let out a nervous bark and then ran up it like a ramp at full speed, scrambling a little against the trunk and more vertical steps near the top but finally disappearing into the darkness under the eaves of the tree. Daryl heaved out a final breath, slung his bow across his back and scrambled up after him. He felt fingertips on his ankle and kicked hard to free himself but the grip was strong. Another rush of air and the sharp sound of a passing arrow and the grip disappeared.

He climbed, heart racing, until he arrived at a surprisingly large wooden platform, built in among the thick branches. He spilled onto it and lay flat on his back, trying to catch his breath. Dog surged forward, anxious paws tapping, and licked his face.

Daryl startled as a dark figure moved beside him and quickly heaved the rope ladder up, rolling it into a neat coil and dropping it onto the platform before retreating again to the other side to lean back against a particularly large offshoot of the tree trunk. Daryl hurriedly rolled over and sat up on his knees, squinting into the darkness. Below, the growls and snarls seemed even louder and he could still hear the faintest rustle and hush of whispers woven in among them.

Dog circled and sat beside Daryl, peering with interest at the dark-clad figure. Daryl waited with bated breath for a long time to see if they would speak. They didn’t.

They were set back in shadow and he couldn’t make out much about them at all until lightning burst overhead again and he could barely see that they had on a sort of dark cloak with a hood and clutched a bow in one hand.

There was an increasing roar of crackling and rustling all around him and Daryl realized that it had started raining, but he felt no drops falling on him. Looking upwards, he saw with the next burst of lightning that there was another platform above him. He glanced back down at the figure. They were still unmoving. He watched as they set their bow aside and then raised their hands and pushed back their hood. Another fork of lightning lit the sky.

He gulped. His heart did a strange lurch in his chest. He was staring at you, and you were staring back at him. He was at a loss for anything to say. Below, the growls and snarls went on and on…

You were studying him carefully, your eyes narrowed, lips parted a little and slightly pursed.

He attempted to clear his throat, but it felt tight all of a sudden. “‘M Daryl,” he said, having to nearly yell over the torrent of rain and continued rolling booms of thunder.

You reached for your bow again, not taking your eyes off him.

“I—I think ya just saved my life. And Dog’s too. Well—I know ya did,” he said lamely, trailing off.

Instead of responding, he watched as you slung your bow on one shoulder and then turned and started to climb up the large vertical branch you’d been standing in front of with an agility and speed that was astonishing.

“Wait—hey!” he called after you.

But the tail of your dark cloak was already licking around the platform above and you were gone. Dog trotted over to where you’d been, sniffing and then looking up the branch. He let out a low whine and wagged his tail.

“What the fuck?” Daryl muttered, climbing to his feet and going to stand where you’d been. He examined the tree trunk, half-expecting to find steps or footholds drilled in that allowed you to climb so swiftly but there was nothing but the rough bark of the tree. He ran his fingers over it. He couldn’t imagine how you’d gotten a hold. Another bright burst of lightning shot through the sky and a loud boom of thunder rolled. Daryl backed away from the edge and sank down in the middle of the platform beside his pack and crossbow. He hauled his bow onto his lap, set another bolt in the flight groove, and drew it back so it was ready to fire in a hurry if needed. There he sat, rigid, staring into the darkness around him, Dog at his side.

His heart sank as he thought of Jesus, Aaron, and Eugene. He hoped they were safe. What a massive fucking misadventure this had been. But as he sat clutching his bow, wondering who the fuck you were, why the fuck you’d helped him, where the fuck you’d gone now (up the tree?), his mind did continually wander back to the whispering... He’d heard it. Exactly as Eugene had said. And the herd had behaved unlike any other he’d ever seen. They’d doubled back. They’d ignored the lights and sounds of the firecrackers. They’d rerouted. They seemed to move with purpose. They didn’t just wander. He didn’t know what it meant, why it occurred, but it was terrifying. _ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl awoke with a start when Dog let out a soft woof and he shot upright, grappling for his bow. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, especially being twenty-five feet in the air, but he had finally succumbed to exhaustion when the storm had passed in the wee hours of the morning. His back was stiff and tight from sleeping on the hard wood and he attempted to stretch to relieve the worst of it but was far too aware of you staring at him.

Now, he was looking back at you in the light of morning where you’d just climbed down on another ladder from the upper platform. This ladder passed through a hole in the platform above and he again remembered how skillfully you’d ascended without it the night before.

You were still dressed in mostly black, but the cloak and hood you’d worn during the night were gone. Along with your bow and a quiver full of arrows, there was a small bag slung across your body and you knelt and slipped it off. You flipped it open and pulled out a thermos and a chunk of crusty bread. You thrust them toward him and he eyed them somewhat warily. You finally just set them down and then stood, shifting your bow and quiver to the side, and leaning back against the tree trunk in the same way you had the night before. You crossed your arms over your chest and surveyed him.

Your eyes were bright and the colors seemed to flash in the morning sun. Daryl gulped and then cautiously reached for the bread and thermos. He unscrewed the top and sniffed its contents. Steam rose up and it was accompanied by an earthy and slightly sweet smell. Hot tea. Tea… in a tree? He was baffled. Did you have a fire up there somewhere? A stove? What the fuck? he thought for the hundredth time in a day’s time.

He looked up at you again and set the thermos aside. His eyes flickered down to your quiver. The feathers of the fletching were all glossy black. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ya found my knife the other day.” A long beat of silence. You were unreadable. “Why’d ya—hang it back up for me to find?” he asked. “Ya knew I’d come back lookin’?”

Still nothing.

“Were ya watchin’ me out here before?”

Silence.

He was getting slightly annoyed. “Christ, d’ya speak at all or—”

“Yes,” you said suddenly. “I do.”

Now, Daryl’s mouth was hanging partially open.

“But I’m not in the habit of speaking with strangers.”

“Well,” he straightened up a bit, clearing his throat, “’M Daryl. And this is Dog,” he said, ruffling the Malinois’ fur. He waited to see if you’d reciprocate the introduction but you merely shifted a little. Daryl chewed on his bottom lip nervously.

“How’d you get mixed up in that mess last night anyway?” you asked him. You couldn’t help studying his every little movement closely, watching for a microscopic flash that something was off, waiting for him to suddenly reveal himself to be something… dark. But you saw nothing like that. Not yet, anyway. But he was obviously strong, capable. Careful, you cautioned yourself mentally.

Daryl’s stomach turned as he thought again of Eugene and Aaron and Jesus. He scolded himself for not thinking of them until now after waking up. “S’kinda a long story,” he drawled. “I was tryin’ to lead ‘em away from somewhere. Guess it backfired.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Lead them? Of course it went wrong,” you said, looking at him like that was the most obvious thing ever, or maybe more like he was a fucking idiot.

His brow furrowed low over his blue eyes. “What d’ya mean?”

“Well, the shepherds, obviously,” you said, deadpan.

“The—who?”

You straightened up, perplexed as you stared back at him. “The shepherds.” There was no understanding or recognition on his face. “Of the dead.”

Daryl only stared back at you, utterly confused.

You shook your head a little. “Couldn’t you hear them?” you asked him.

Finally, he nodded. “Ya mean the—the whisperin’?”

“Yes. It’s the shepherds,” you said again.

He still looked confused. You sighed and walked over the coiled ladder and nudged it off the edge with your foot. “Come down. I’ll show you.”

Daryl watched you slip down with ease and then glanced at Dog. “Stay, boy,” he said, and he followed more clumsily down the ladder behind you, feeling cautiously with his boots for the next step. He felt overly large and awkward behind you. When he planted his boots back on solid ground again, he was surprised to see the number of dead walkers lying at the base of the tree. You had shot more than he’d noticed the night before in all the chaos. Most had a thick arrow shaft capped with black feathers protruding from its head. You went about collecting your arrows. You paused at the last one and gave him a significant look before rolling it over with your boot so it was facedown. You bent and Daryl moved closer. “Here. See?” You pointed at the back of the head. At first, Daryl didn’t understand what he was supposed to be looking at. You withdrew a knife from your hip with a skillful movement and slipped the blade up the back of the head. It was as you did this that Daryl finally saw the lacing, like a shoelace, on the back of the head.

“What the hell?” he growled.

Once the lacing was cut, you gripped the scraggly hair on the top of the head and tugged. The whole head seemed to come off at first until he realized it was slipping off like a mask. You held it up with a disgusted look on your face for him to see.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he drawled. He turned the body back over and found himself looking at a person. Not one who had ever turned to the undead, but the very human-looking corpse of a person dead from your arrow the night before. He stood up, in slight shock.

You dropped the horrifying mask to the ground. “They wear skins, herd the dead. They walk with them. Control them,” you said. “The shepherds.”

“Why?” Daryl asked.

You didn’t answer, simply stared at him stony-faced, sheathed your knife, stuffed the arrows you’d collected back in your quiver, and climbed the ladder back up into the tree.

As a last thought, Daryl grabbed the mask and crammed it into the inside pocket in his vest. Then, he followed you back up.

Daryl found you sitting at the edge petting Dog when he pulled himself back onto the platform. The bread and thermos were still sitting there in the middle and his hunger reared its head. He grabbed the bread and sank down beside his pack and bow again.

“What d’ya know ‘bout these shepherds?” he asked you again. “These—Whisperers?”

Your eyes flickered up to his face and then back to Dog as you picked a burr out of his coat. “They almost killed you last night. What more do you need to know?”

“Alrigh’…” Daryl drawled, biting off another piece of bread. “Ya ain’t even gonna tell me yer name? Where ya came from?”

Your eyes snapped up to his face again. “You don’t owe me your backstory and I certainly don’t owe you mine,” you said. You stood abruptly as the croak of a raven sounded nearby. “You led that herd right to my tree—”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. “Ain’t like I did that on purpose. I didn’t know somebody was livin’ in a fuckin’ tree—it coulda been any tree in a thousand.”

“But it wasn’t. And I saved your ass—”

Daryl was slightly incredulous. “Ya want another thank you? Or an apology?” he asked, standing.

Your hand reflexively strayed to your knife as he rose to his full height. “And now I’ll have to move—”

Daryl continued to stare at you, baffled. The raven croaked again nearby. “Why the hell did ya even save me and Dog?” he asked.

“Should I not have?” you retorted. Abruptly, you tore your eyes from his face. “I think it’s time you go. I’m sure your people are worried,” you said, patting Dog once more time.

“Hang on—how d’ya know I got people?” Daryl pressed you.

“You have people,” you said.

“Do you have people?” he asked.

You ignored his question. “I can fit a harness on your dog to lower him down,” you said.

“Forget it,” Daryl growled. He shoved what was left of the chunk of bread into his pack and slung it across his back. He shouldered his crossbow. “Thanks for breakfast. Dog. Shoulders, c’mon!”

Daryl bent his knees and Dog propelled himself onto Daryl’s shoulders and balanced there. Daryl was bowed slightly under the weight and you watched, somewhat amazed as he navigated the edge of the platform and climbed the ladder back down. You leaned over and watched Dog jump down. Daryl readied his crossbow in his hands, prepared to set out.

You couldn’t resist having the last word. “Daryl,” you called down. He looked up. “You didn’t thank me, technically, for saving your life.”

Daryl peered up, disbelieving. “Last night, I said—”

“You stated a fact, that I did,” you interrupted. “That isn’t a ‘thank you’.”

He swore under his breath. “Hey, what the hell is your problem?” he growled back.

And for the first time, Daryl saw you smile, and his stomach seemed to somersault in his midsection. Just then, a huge raven swooped in and perched on your shoulder, letting out a raspy noise as a greeting and ruffling its feathers as you scratched beneath its bill affectionately. “Bye, Daryl. Be careful of the shepherds. And I’ll ask that you just go and forget about me.” And with that, you disappeared, and the ladder behind him slowly began to raise as you reeled it back up.

Daryl had seen a lot of shit in his time since the world fell, but this? You? Some mysterious woman living in a tree with a fucking pet raven? What the fuck... This was something else entirely. Forget about you? Not fucking likely.