#genres are really all over the place I also tried not to post anything I have posted here before but I might have failed? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nezuscribe · 2 years

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𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊

summary: when a disease turns the world into an apocalyptic landscape, you join a group in order to survive. you find yourself drawn to a certain blue-eyed man for no explainable reason. though the two of you have your own pasts to deal with, the two of you grow closer and closer together. after all, it seems as though you’re the only lovers left alive

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

genre: post apocalypse au, strangers to friends to lovers, slight angst, fluff, smut, some hurt comfort, inspired by some of the events from the last of us

word count: 16k+

warnings: 18+ mdni, some heavy-ish themes, mentions of suicide, smut, heavy making out, fingering, vaginal penetration, cum eating, slight begging, gojo is a teeny bit of a dick but overall just doesn’t know how to handle emotions

note: i did take some inspo from the last of us, so if you see something you might recognize, it’s because i most likely based something off of it. nothing too major though, but the infected here are like the ones in the game/show. i don’t want any comments saying i stole the idea bc i stg i’ll just combust

also a thank you for @jadeisthirsting for beta-reading again, love her!

You were glad that chocolate bars survived the apocalypse.

Those, along with chips (you don’t look at expiration dates anymore), crackers, and protein bars seemed to stand the tests of time.

The abandoned convenience store was harshly run down. The glass was shattered, and you could hear the crunch of shards underneath your boots whenever you walked up and down the aisles. Vegetation took reign in most of the area, and vines grew alongside the walls and the counters. Weeds sprung through the cracks in the floor and long blades of grass peeked in from the outside.

A lot of the aisles were already ransacked from those who came before, but you had to admit that this place was in much better condition food-wise than all the others you had seen. You loaded your cart with whatever you could find; cereal, bars, chips, instant ramen, jerky, really anything that wasn’t perishable by your standards.

You also made sure to stock up on medical supplies while you were here. Antiseptic, rolls of bandages, needles for stitching, medical tape. You were able to find a bottle of disinfectant and some rubbing alcohol, so you spent a couple of minutes cheering over the small victory.

The rays of sun that peeked through and washed out certain parts of the store a quiet orange made it seem more serene than it actually was, and you took your time as you leaned on the cart handle, walking slowly as you tried to pretend like you were just shopping for amenities like you would years ago, without the fear of the outside world trying to hunt you down the moment you stepped out.

Under your breath you hummed a soft tune, letting your fingers run over the empty shelves as you looked around.

Many opened boxes littered the ground. None of them were to your benefit so you just stepped over them, tapping something on your arm to keep your mind busy. It was only noon, so you had a couple of hours to waste before it got dark.

Though you had the hunting rifle near you in case anything popped out in front of you, you liked to pretend that there was no danger when you rounded a corner. It saved a little naive part of your mind to imagine that everything was normal when you knew that it wasn’t.

“...yeah, no, no, I agree, I just…”

You stopped in your tracks, air hitching in your throat as you went rigid upon hearing the muffled voices.

“I heard the bunkers in Kyoto and Osaka fell…radio transmission,” It was a female voice, that much you could make out. But assessing the sound of feet shuffling on the floor and the other sounds, you knew there had two be at least two people, maybe even more.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had heard somebody speak. You tried to remember, raking your mind for when it was, and it must have been months ago, maybe even a year, and that was just a small encounter. You doubted the guy even saw you. And this is far worse, they closed and you have nowhere to hide without making a sound. They could be raiders or scavengers. One of them could be infected without the other's knowledge. Millions of thoughts ran through your head as you tried to rationalize with yourself.

“What happened to the one in Nara?” This time it was a male voice, and much closer than before. They were probably only a few aisles away until they reached you. You could feel your heart beating uncontrollably fast, rattling against your ribcage as your mind faltered on what to you.

“They’re not letting people inside. They deter anybody unless you have a pre-bought cabin there.” The first woman replied, and you could hear some glass clanking as she kicked an empty beer bottle (from what you could deduce), across the floor.

“How do you know so much?” Another male asked. Three so far, you made a mental note as you tried shoving all your food and things in any pocket you could find, shoving the big bottle of rubbing alcohol down your shirt to nestle on your bra. You didn’t risk your life trying to find this place just to have some strangers take the things you so desperately need.

“They play messages on the radio at night. If you didn’t go to sleep so fuckin’ fast you might hear something useful.” The first girl said, but there was no bite to her voice. She even chuckled, and you swore one of the other guys laughed too.

“Why can’t we just stay where we are? We haven’t seen any infected here.” Four. This time it was another girl's voice. So far, two females and two males. You were severely outnumbered. You doubted you were that skilled, even in all your years, to surpass four people.

Deciding to leave a few bars behind, you gingerly moved past the cart, making sure not to make a sound as you tiptoed across the broken bottles and glass. You held your breath and tried to hold onto your jacket, not wanting anything to fall out.

You tried to phase out whatever they were saying so you could stay focused. You squinted your eyes as rays of the sun blinded you when they peeked through some cracks in the ceiling. You shuffled slowly and precisely, your heart quite literally beating in your throat as moved around the debris on the floor.

You could see the double doors, both open as you let out an inaudible sigh of relief when you saw them, a promise that you weren’t going to die right here when-

CRUNCH.

You stopped, eyes slowly falling down to the comically large piece of glass under your foot, now shattered into a million pieces as you stop breathing. You wait for abated second, thinking nobody heard until you heard some clattering coming from behind you.

“What the fuck was that?” One of the girls asked, her laughter long gone from her voice as her question rang through the store.

“I don’t know…wait here…”

You could run, it wasn’t that far to the door, but you were frozen in your place. It was like when…you couldn’t even think about it. Your mind blanked, your limbs not moving despite your brain willing them to do something, anything.

It felt like that day all over again, the weakness and fear that overtook your mind and body as you shook, your legs cramping, your hands shivering as your eyes darted around, your lips clamped between your teeth as blood roared in your ears.

You wondered if you’d been faster or more agile something may have gone differently. But really, no matter what you were wouldn’t have altered the fact that you saw a blur of clothes from your peripheral, craning to look to your right as your eyes meet bright blue ones.

Your brows furrowed when the two of you locked eyes, your chests moving up and down as you looked at the weapon in his hand, drawn out, pointing at your head as you blinked, mind going into overdrive as you let out a heavy sigh of air.

He looked angelic and you wanted to smack yourself for that being your first thought. His hair was artic white, tainted a bright yellow as the sun shined over him. He had a sturdy jaw and a tall frame. Long and delicate fingers clutching onto a weapon, getting ready to pull it out the moment he saw you.

Sure, you could blame it on the fact that you hadn’t seen a man for over three years, but you knew that even despite your blurry and confused judgment he was better looking than most of the guys you’ve seen most of your life.

There were a few seconds where neither of you said anything, not really knowing what to say as you shifted ever so slightly on your left foot, not knowing if you ran to the door he’d shoot you in the process.

“Satoru?” A girl came in from behind him, looking at him and then to where his gaze fell until she saw you, a small aurora of surprise taking over her features.

“Stay with Geto,” The man said, his voice harsh as his eyes narrowed on you, his face unreadable but cold nonetheless as his focus never left your every tiny motion. Taking in all of your features, your clothes, your skin, your eyes. Anything that could give away that you were infected.

Your eyes darted from him to the girl to his side, not knowing who to look at. The person with the gun pointed at you or the one who stared at you as if you were an artifact, a token she hadn’t seen before.

“I’m not a threat,” You say after a couple more seconds of unbearable silence, your voice hoarse from barely using it anymore. You rub at your throat, wincing a little as you put your arms up to show that you have nothing in your hands, “I swear I’ll just leave and nothing else.”

The girl stayed where she was, gnawing on her lip as she shoved the man's arms with hers.

“She seems fine-”

“Seems doesn’t mean she’s not infected.” He snapped, never taking his eyes away from you as he pulled his elbow away from her grasp. His voice had a bite to it, sending chills that traveled down your spine. He had no emotion on his face, clear of anything human.

“I-I’m not infected.” You retaliate, taking a tentative step forward, watching as his grip on his gun became tighter, and taking a step back as he pushed the girl behind him. You put your arms up again, worried you were playing with fate as you slowly and carefully put your bare arms under a ray of light, making sure he could see your actions. You tugged on your sleeves, pulled down the collar of your shirt, and showed him your calves, anything to prove that you weren’t bitten.

“See…?”

You waited, his stare jumping from your face to your arm, different gears in his head turning as he debated what to do.

“‘Toru, she’s not infected,” The girl said, trying to nudge his hand so he’d lower the weapon, “She’s right, she’d be in pain right now if she was.”

But he didn’t move, his jaw ticking as he shook his head, seemingly still not believing you.

“How do I know you all aren’t infected?” You snapped, angry, as you tried to hide the quiver in your voice. They could be and they’re doing well to hide it.

“We’re not.” He said, his voice steady, confident, and not carrying any trace of a lie.

“What’s taking so long?” Another voice joined the three of you, a man, the same in height as the one in front of you as he clasped a hand on his shoulder, his brow cocking in surprise when he saw you. His hair was a stark black, pulled into a bun behind his head. Some strands had escaped and fallen out. He seemed far more easygoing than the man next to him, though. His eyes were brighter and his smile was genuine. He looked over to the side as the girl shrugged, worry lacing her features as he drummed his fingers in her arm. He looked back at you, giving you a tiny smile, “What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Doesn’t matter if you’d just let me go.” You said, your voice mirroring the white-haired man, the new guy’s lips pulling into a little grin as he let out a deep laugh.

“Drop the gun ‘Toru, she’s fine.” The new guy said with a laugh, stepping forward as you took one back, your lungs squeezing together tightly as you went to grab the weapon strapped on your back.

He raised his hands as you had seconds ago, trying to show that he wasn’t intending any harm as he took another step forward. The playful look he had on his face melted away, forming to something softer as he took in the cuts that littered your cheek and knew, the way your eyes darted from his hands to his face to detect any danger.

“Hello,” He started with a careful smile, not wanting to scare you off, “I’m Geto, but my friends call me Suguru,” He pointed to the girl behind him, “Vera even calls me dumb bitch-”

“Only when I’m mad!” She argued, shooting you an apologetic and embarrassed smile when she realized you were there too, and he snorted, continuing.

“And the blue-eyed freak is Satoru. Anna’s back there, somewhere. Swear we don’t mean any harm. He’s just,” He glanced behind him at the man who was slowly lowering the gun, his face still clearly telling that he was weary of you, “Cautious.”

He held out his hand, far larger than yours, for a shake.

You tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting a little bit as you tried to make out just what he was trying to do.

But you dropped your hand from grasping onto the leather strap of your weapon, your fingers stretching, itching for some human contact as you debated for a little bit. Surely but slowly you brought your hand to his, softly clutching it to see a smile overtake his features.

“Y/n,” You reciprocate with a small smile of your own, your chapped lips not used to the feeling. His fingers were long as they overtook yours, calloused, but human. They gave yours a gentle squeeze, almost as if he could tell, and you have one back. Something that you never realized you had missed up until this very moment, “My name’s y/n.”

He said your name once under his breath to commit it to memory.

“You going anywhere specific?” He asked, his hands crossed across his chest as he waited patiently for you to answer.

You swallowed dryly, in desperate need of some water as you pointed somewhere north.

“Heard there’s a camp somewhere in Takayama…you?”

He chuckled, nodding as if he couldn’t believe your words, looking behind him as the girl you guessed was Vera let out a small laugh too. The blue-eyed man, Satoru you deduced, stayed stoic, not giving anything away.

“By any chance are you talking about that one camp that has running water ‘n shit?”

You nod, not trusting your voice anymore as you blink.

“Nice,” He cocked his head in the direction of his group, the second girl, Anna, now walking in to see what the fuss was about, “That’s where we’re going too. Or at least, trying to. Care to join?”

You quickly learned that this group was different from your old one.

They were serious, sure, but everybody was given the predicament. They were on guard at any sudden noise, guns drawn and ready, but they still acted like you guess they would have back in their old lives. They made jokes, laughed at each other's stupid mistakes, and spent the days and nights filling the silence with whatever they could.

It was jarring, really, seeing how your old group of six never laughed nor had a moment of naïve fun, but you were far more fond of this than that.

“Damn, so you’re the youngest one here then?” Geto asked one day as you five trudged through an abandoned city. You looked up, mouth parted in slight awe as you took in the strange sights; abandoned skyscrapers, some tilting over a bit. Many were severely destroyed by the bombings. There were large craters on the ground, concrete slabs, and building chunks that fell into them. Geto nudged your side, snapping you from your trance as he waited for you to answer.

“Oh, um, yeah, I guess,” Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “Only by a little bit though. I was about to graduate high school when it started and I guess that was like what, five-ish years ago?” You couldn’t distinctly remember, time had just become a construct after so many months.

Vera and Anna had begun talking about how old they were when it started, and you had gotten roped into the conversation.

“You’re the baby of the group now!” Anna exclaimed, pinching your cheeks with a giggle as you laughed softly, looking down at the cracked concrete beneath your feet as your backpack thumped on your back with every step you took, “It's good though,” She whispered in your ear, “You can use it to get out of chores.” You snickered at that, rolling your eyes but thankful for the tip.

You found out that Anna was only a couple of months older than you. Then came Geto, who was a year older than you two, Vera was around as old as him, and Gojo was two years older than you.

“Wait, so you’ve been traveling alone all these years?” Anna was the one to ask as she walked closer to you, her brows pinched together in confusion,

You could have sworn it was an unspoken rule not to talk about the past unless somebody brought it up directly.

“No, no,” You shook your head as your nose wrinkled at the thought, “I was part of a bigger group. But we,” You looked away, at nothing in particular as a sharp pang ran through your chest, “We split up a while ago. That’s when I went solo.”

She nodded in understanding, pulling her hair back as she tied it up, fanning her face at the heat. The sun was beating harshly on your face, sweat prickling at your hairline as you squinted through the bright light.

“Was it hard?” Anna asked, clearly not picking up on your reluctance to the subject.

You swallowed, feeling like a part of your chest was heavier than it was seconds before as you cleared your throat.

“I, well,” You shrugged, stammering a bit, “A little bit, but I learned how to-”

“How’d you get your food?” She cut you off. You could tell she wasn’t trying to do any harm, her eyes shining with childish curiosity but it didn’t do anything to hide the fact that it quite literally felt like your throat was closing up.

“I would hunt or find whatever I co-”

“So you like being part of a group?”

“Yeah-”

“Did it ever get lonely?”

“Anna,” Gojo cut her off, his voice not loud but commanding enough to get everybody's attention, speaking for the first time in what seemed a couple of hours, “Calm down.”

Her eyes darted from you to him, finally noting the overwhelmed expression that you were trying your best to hide as she muttered out a quiet sorry. She moved to talk to Vera, and you were thankful that it wasn’t awkward as you went back to looking at the buildings.

You gave him a small nod, grateful, but he only blinked, looking away as he went back to listening to whatever Geto was telling him. You huffed out a small embarrassed laugh, not putting much thought into it as you kicked a pebble across the ground, feeling the wind tickle your cheeks as you tried to hold back the sting of tears in your eyes.

Gojo didn’t say much, even after you joined their group, and Vera told you it was normal and not to take it to heart. So you didn’t try to talk much with him, not wanting to push and prod at any of his boundaries. But he was nice otherwise, in his own ways. He took the night watch, letting you guys sleep, and insisted that he was fine with it. He was attentive, always giving the rest of his food to Anna when she complained about how hungry she was. He was cautious, as Geto would put it, but you couldn’t blame him. You were cautious too.

Did it ever get lonely? Her question rang through your mind. It was stupid, you’ve only known her for a short amount of time. Hell, you’ve only known these people for a couple of weeks but it felt like she had dug a hot iron into your chest with the simple query. It was pathetic, really, but it was that thing where the more you tried to stop yourself from crying the worse it became, and that seemed to be true right now.

You fell behind a little bit, not anything much, but enough so that you were by yourself as you looked up. You found it easier to control your emotions as you blinked back the tears, not wanting to wipe them away in case anybody noticed. In front of you, you could hear Vera and Anna arguing about something minuscule, smiles still on their faces as they playfully banter back and forth.

The wind began to pick up a bit, your eyes watering even more as you blinked back the fat tears that were threatening to fall and roll down your cheek, biting your lip as if that could make it stop.

“Everything alright?”

Your head whipped to the side to where the voice came from, a little surprised to see Gojo walking next to you. His hair was tucked behind his ears, hands in his pockets as he waited for your response.

As you blinked in shock a small tear fell, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand, no use in hiding it now as you nodded, lips quivering a bit as you sniffled. You could count the number of times he had spoken to you on a single hand, so you hid it by looking away. Your cheeks heated up under his heavy stare, not used to it, especially from him.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” You said as you exhaled shakily, not having the guts to look at him as you just stared directly ahead of you at the three heads of the other members of the group. But you weren't good at masking the lie as you watched from the corner of your eyes as he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you.

Looking at his outstretched hand you saw a tissue and your eyes darted to him in questioning.

“It’s not poisoned, y’know.” He told you, his voice slightly less monotone as you let out a watery laugh, tentatively taking it from him as you whispered out a hushed thanks.

You blew your nose as quietly as you could, feeling bad as you threw it to the side of the street you blinked again, hoping this time you could do a better job of controlling your pesky and fragile emotions with somebody next to you.

There was a silent beat as neither of you said anything, wringing your fingers together as you tried to look for an explanation for all this. It was stupid, childish, and downright embarrassing, but you still couldn’t find the words to justify anything.

“Anna can be like that. You learn to live with it.” Gojo finally said, interrupting your train of thought as he spoke. You could tell he was slowing down his pace to match yours, his long legs taking shorter steps and you almost laughed at the sight.

“It’s okay,” You said, rubbing at your eyes again as your nose wrinkled again, “I’m just not used to being…”

“Bombarded?” He said, finding the right word as you nodded with a small chuckle.

“Yeah… that. I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know why I’m…” You trailed off, wiping at your eyes with your palms as you took in a shaky breath, “It’s just been a while since I’ve talked this much, so I’m still trying to get used to it…sorry.” You let out a little hiccup, missing the way his lips almost pulled into a smile at the sound.

“Don’t apologize,” He said, shrugging as he kicked a piece of broken asphalt across the sidewalk, “It’s not your fault.”

You went to open your mouth to say something back but Geto waved his arms, motioning the two of you to the rest of them as he pointed to something on the ground.

“Oi, Gojo, come check this out. I don’t know if this is a cordyceps or a regular mushroom.”

And you glanced at the man next to you one more time but he was already jogging forward to see what the fuss was about. It didn’t matter much, it shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t stop the way your little heart fluttered pathetically at his words. You quickened your pace, shaking your head at the thought as you joined the group once again.

But as much as you tried you couldn’t get his final words out of your head. It’s not your fault. How you wish it were true. If only he knew, he’d probably eat his own words. Swallow them up so that they were never spoken into existence because it was your fault. But you couldn’t say that now.

You hated that time between day and night more than anything.

When the crickets chirped and the sky became darker than it should have, casting a shadow over the ground. The stars were freckles across the sky and the light breeze didn’t distract you from the fact that clickers could be a stone's throw away from you without you ever realizing it.

The abandoned apartment complex they decided to spend the night in was definitely in better condition than the ones surrounding it, but even with the extensive search you guys did up and down to make sure it was clear of any danger, you still felt a little nauseous as they set up base in the lobby.

Your sleeping bags were sprawled out on the marble floor lined with dirt. You had your backpack next to you, your gun within arm's reach. Next to the fire was an array of cans to pick from, but you weren’t hungry, not in the slightest. You could barely stomach anything after Anna’s bombardment of questions that left you a quiet mess, and being surrounded by people in the dark just made it worse.

“Hungry?” Vera held out a can of preserved peaches but you shot your head, biting back the sick that made its way up to your throat at the thought of eating. You could feel her eyes burning on the side of your face but she didn’t press any further, eating as the two of you listened to Geto talk about his plan for reaching the camp in Takayama.

He was the more animated one of the two males. He talked with his hands, his face contorting in different ways as he conversed with Anna. Gojo sat on the side, watching the flames dance across the rocks, his blue eyes lit a color you’ve never seen before as he listened in his own way to the conversation.

“I saw you earlier,” Vera whispered as she leaned in closer to you, throwing the empty can aside as she wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin, pointing to Geto so your attention could stay on him while you listened to her, mostly not to draw any attention from the others as she tucked her hair behind her ear, “Talking with Satoru.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking at Vera but she nudged you to look back at Geto, continuing.

“I know he’s not the easiest person to warm up to,” She said with a shrug, picking at her nails as he glanced at you with a soft smile, “He used to be, before all this. I can’t really blame him for being on guard-” You nodded in understanding and she softly chuckled at your response, “But he cares.”

About what? You wanted to ask but didn’t want to prod too much.

“So you knew him before?” This was an easier one to answer, and she nodded, cracking her thumb as she rested her head on her arm. The light from the little fire Geto made casted red and orange shadows on the highlights of her face, and she seemed younger here (she wasn’t even old). Her wrinkles were gone, eyes were less full of stress.

“Yeah, he lived near us. Us, being me and Geto.” She quickly said to save you the confusion. Huh, you thought to yourself, no wonder they were so close.

“So you all grew up together?”

“Yeah,” Her lips pulled into a soft smile, eyes creasing around the edges as she sat in thought, “From elementary school up until university. Geto and Gojo were even doing pre-med together.”

You almost wanted to laugh at the thought.

“I know, it’s weird. I can’t even begin to think of what they’d be like as doctors. But their parents wanted them to do it, so they just went along with whatever they said.”

“What were you doing?” You asked, not even trying to focus on Geto anymore, finding her stories far more interesting. After some time you quickly learned that Vera had much to say when she wanted to, she was just selective when she did.

“I was planning on becoming a teacher. It pissed my parents off, but I liked it.” Her words were soft, almost as if thinking about it brought back better memories. And you bet it probably did, a future she once wanted now far away from her reach.

“And Anna? Did she grow up with you guys too?”

She shook her head, stifling a yawn as her eyelids drooped a little bit.

“No, we met Anna along the way. She and Emi were close though,” She said, rubbing at her tired face, dragging it down as she tried to fight the sleep threatening its way through her body.

Emi?

You watched as her eyes widened slightly, looking over at you to see if you caught the name and she sighed in obvious disappointment, mad at herself for the slip-up. Mumbling something along the lines of shit to herself as she blinked quickly.

“Don’t - don’t ask,” She shot you a look and you dared to go against it, her face once lined with empathy turned stone cold, threatening even as her voice loomed its way through your bones, “Don’t say anything about that. Okay?”

You nod, muttering out a soft ok, almost too scared to answer her loudly as she nodded, clearly not happy with it but knowing there wasn’t much else she could do.

So you didn’t press it, pretending like you heard nothing as you nodded along to whatever Geto was saying. Though nothing could hide the fiery spark of curiosity that came with the new name, one you had never heard here before.

You wondered why she tried to hide it.

That night you couldn’t sleep.

You’d toss and turn, turning your pillow around to see if it would make a difference, but nothing was able to lull you into a tranquil state of being.

The apartment would creak and groan sometimes, the stories above you stable enough not to collapse, but weak enough to freak you out from shutting your eyes as you stared at them. The crystal chandelier overhead was overrun by dust, and it would sway a little when the wind from outside picked up.

After a couple of minutes, you gave up, huffing in annoyance as you rubbed at your sleepy eyes, wishing they would just work with the rest of your body and sleep, but that was a pathetic attempt and didn’t work.

You got up, careful not to make a sound and disturb anybody sleeping around you, and looked around, looking for somewhere to sit that was safe and peaceful enough to help ease your mind.

Moving as if you were about to step on a bomb, you found the reception desk, the paint peeling, and the wood corroding. It gave you a good view of the main apartment entrance, so you felt more comfortable there having a view of almost anything.

Resting your back on it you let out a heavy sigh, your chest moving as your head fell back, thudding against it softly as you played with your fingers.

“Why’re you up?”

You almost yelped but controlled the urge as you jumped in your spot, eyes darting around till they found a faint mop of white hair to your left. He was prodding at the last embers of the fire with a metal pipe, moving them around as they made soft crinkling sounds with his every move. You wondered to yourself, both in shame and worry, how you had somehow failed to miss that.

“Were you watching me?” You whispered, wincing as you tried to lower the volume, scoffing at that being the first thing that came to mind.

“I am on watch duty.” He said, his voice tinged with a bit of sarcasm as his brow raised a little bit. You could barely make him out with your limited vision, but you could tell from where he was standing that he was only a couple of feet away from you.

“You didn’t answer my first question.” He reminded you after a beat of silence, his voice low as he tried not to wake anybody up.

You yawned, shrugging as you picked up a rock not to your thigh, moving it around in your hand as your fingers ran along its smooth and imperfect crevices, its cool touch calming you down a little bit.

“Can’t sleep.” You responded after a bit of thinking, but it really was the truth. Maybe a simplified version of it, but it caused him to let out a quiet scoff, obviously not satisfied with your lazy response.

“Insomnia or bad dreams?”

You laughed a bit, your lips quirking at the edges as you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“You would have made a spectacular doctor.”

He took in a sharp breath of air and you laughed, stifling your giggle with your hand. His reaction telling you he obviously didn’t want that knowledge to be spread around.

“Swear to god, that’s all she told me though.” You say, holding up your hands as if a pledge of your honesty though you doubted he could even see it. You heard him snort, obviously not buying it but not saying anything about it as he pushed at the coals around a little more.

A small rush of wind moved the dust and twigs next to you, the whooshing sound somewhat tranquil as it filled the silence. It wasn’t awkward like you thought it’d be, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was a place right in the middle, but it was better than your past three interactions with him.

You tried to squint, trying to make out his features. He was attractive, that much you could admit. Even if you met him before seeing a man became a rare occurrence you would have had the same thought. His frame was sturdy, lean, and tall. He filled out his clothes rather nicely, and his face was passive and a grimace away from forming a scowl, but you could tell he once used to laugh a lot more if the smile lines told you anything.

You wondered if the name Emi had anything to do with him losing his smile.

“Tell me something about yourself then.”

A shocked laugh threatened to bubble out of your throat at his sudden statement.

“W-Why?” You stuttered out with a laugh, confused as you shifted where you were sitting, tilting your head a little bit to the side, wishing he’d move so you could see clearly just who it was you were talking to.

“You know too much about me,” He said as if it was obvious, shrugging his shoulders as he set the metal pipe down gently to not make any noise, “I don’t know anything about you. Other than you can’t sleep and are learning to talk more.”

A part of you wondered if he was being genuine or trying to be snarky.

But you just snorted, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of this as you threw your hands, looking up as you thought for a second for something interesting yet boring enough to shut him up so you could have some quiet time.

“I can only eat semi-sweet or dark chocolate. Milk’s a little too sweet for me.”

You could hear a snort in response, probably the first you’d ever heard from him as he shuffled around a little bit, his shadow moving a little bit closer to where you were sitting. The ray of moonlight illuminated part of his face, his white lashes fluttering against his cheeks as you watched him rest his chin on the palm of his hand.

“Seems like we’re complete opposites there,” He admitted, his lips threatening to tug into a smile, but he controlled it as if he didn’t want you to see that part of his hidden emotions.

“Then I’ll give you any milk chocolate bars I find.”

He huffed, a part of his lip caught under his teeth as he considered the thought.

“Is that good enough for you?”

He shook his head quickly, comically as you sighed, some sleep finally settling in as you rub at your forehead. You could feel the headache coming from a mile away.

“Need something more personal,” He retaliated, moving a little bit so that he wasn’t putting all his weight on his arms, his toned chest moving as he resituated himself. You tried to not make it obvious that you were staring, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Well now you’ve gone too far,” You say with a little laugh, the most genuine one you’ve had in a while. You miss the way his face almost mirrors yours, the edges of his lips threatening to pull up into a grin as you smile. “I like yellow.” You finally answer, your smile faltering as you think back.

“Any particular reason or do you just like the color of piss?”

“I had this perfume bottle, I got it for my birthday when I was twelve. The actual perfume smelled disgusting but the bottle itself was this glass-stained yellow, a soft yellow that I haven’t seen anywhere else.” You explained, bringing one leg up to your chest, and wrapping your arms around it to steady yourself.

“What about you?” He shook his head, waving his pointed finger around, clearly not answering a question yet.

“No, still on you. Where were you when this all started?” Gojo asked, and the jump from the previous question to this one took you off guard. If you were counting correctly he had two more facts above you than you did for him, but you indulged him, having nothing better to do with your time.

“At home. I was watching TV with my dad when they broadcasted that signal,” You paused, the memories flooding back as you tried to blink them away. The car, your neighbors who were already infected, “You?”

For a second you thought he wasn’t going to answer but he shifted, running a hand through his hair as he whistled quietly, thinking.

“I was in a lecture hall.”

“For your doctor lectures?”

He chuckled, for the first time since you’ve known him, shaking his head as he eventually nodded, knowing that you were probably never going to give up the information. You watched as he rested his chin on his palm, the new angle giving you a better view of him and you felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“Yeah,” He couldn’t fight the smile anymore, his face turning softer as he smirked, “For my doctor lectures.”

“Go sleep,” He said after a heavy beat of silence, his voice softer as he watched you wipe at your eyes, a big yawn escaping your mouth as you blinked tiredly, “It’s almost morning.”

You shake your head, wondering why a part of you was disappointed that he was right. As you stood up, wiping the dust from your pants as you shuffled your way around some bricks, finding your way back to your sleeping bag (with more difficulty than you’d like to admit), and threw it over your body. You could feel his eyes burning on your back, but you shut your eyes and pretended that you were asleep.

A couple of weeks after that night and you wondered if you had somehow passed a test.

While he still didn’t speak much to you, he wasn’t cautious nor weary when he did.

Gojo still didn’t laugh or smile much, but his little grin was less guarded when you spoke to him. Maybe it was to save you the pity of your awful jokes, but a part of you felt happier knowing he warmed up to you a bit.

“You just haven’t heard these puns yet,” You argued one day, pulling out the book you found when you scavenged through an abandoned store about a week ago. It had water damage and some of the words you could barely read, “Okay, okay, what about this one? 3.14% of sailors are Pi-rates. Huh?” You looked up at him, wiggling your eyebrows only to see him with a disgruntled look, staring down at you as he shook his head in disappointment.

“None of these should have been published.” He argued, and although he sounded disgruntled, there was an edge of him holding back a laugh.

“Oh, I like this one!” You exclaimed with a giggle, Vera looking back at the two of you as she smiled to herself, nudging at Geto so he could see too, “What do you use to cut a Roman Emperor's hair?” He didn’t say anything for a second so you lightly kicked his shin, waiting for an answer.

“I don't know, scissors?” You grinned, shocked at how close he was.

“Almost, the answer is Ceasers,” You revealed with a giggle, showing Gojo the book as he sighed, rubbing at his forehead in faux annoyance. You put the book in your back pocket, careful when you fold it, wanting to save the rest for later, “Don’t worry, I’m saving the best for last.” You patted the pocket as he laughed, excusing himself as Geto called for him to check something out on the map. Your foot almost slipped when you walked on some grass, wet from the rain last night, and his hands soft out to grip your elbows, steadying you as you thanked him. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where his lingering touch was, and you looked away, hoping he couldn’t pick up on the embarrassment.

“Y/n, can you come here for a ‘sec?” Anna called your name, ushering you over as you looked around to see her walking a little bit behind you. And you made your way over to her, readjusting your backpack as your shoulder sunk a bit from how heavy it was.

She offered you a small smile, though you could tell she was thinking a lot of things through. You noticed that when that line appeared down the middle of her brow, it meant that she was deep in thought. That, or she was mad. But with the way her fingers danced on her arms in discomfort and her eyes darted around the rest of the group, you wanted to bet that she was going through it.

“What’s up?” You finally asked, just hoping there weren't any more questions about how difficult it was traveling alone.

“I’ve seen that you and Gojo have gotten closer, w-which is great! Don’t get me wrong!” She sputtered, shooting you a quick grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “But I feel like I should let you know…”

When she didn’t finish you raised a brow, wondering what could possibly be so bad.

“Do,” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her body, deciding to just get it over with, “Do you remember that one night? In that apartment lobby?”

You almost laughed. How could you forget?

“Yeah…vaguely,” That was a fat lie. It was all you could think about in these following weeks. Your conversation with both Vera and Gojo plagued different parts of your mind for different reasons.

“Listen, I couldn’t help but overhear ‘Ver, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…” She trailed off, gnawing on her lip as her eye twitched, “I heard her say Emi and I know she brushed it off but I feel like you deserve to know about it. You’ve been with us long enough so that I can trust you with this.”

Was it really that easy? You didn’t say anything, hoping the slight excitement and anticipation on your face wouldn’t scare her away as you gave her the time she needed until she continued. She took in a deep breath and started.

“I’d known Emi for a long time now - gosh, probably over a decade at this point. She was nice, but she had her own flaws, but she was my only friend so I ignored them. When this,” She motioned her arms around you, “Whole thing happened, she was the only one I had. We were planning on going to a quarantine zone in Tokyo but it fell almost immediately, so we just went wherever we could.

“We met up with those guys a couple of months later. Maybe two, two and a half years ago?” She thought back, shaking her head because it wasn’t important to fixate on, “And they took us in. They were all really nice, including ‘Toru.

“After a while, he and Emi got closer, and for that while, it was just a fling that would pass the time. But they cared for each, it was pretty obvious. Or from what she told me, it sounded like they did. But,” She bit her cheek, playing nervously with her fingers as she looked up at you, “it was hard. They fought. A lot,” She gave a humorless laugh as she looked back on it, “Day in and day out. They fought over the smallest of things. I swear, I don’t know how-” She stopped, apologizing as she got back on track, “Anyways, what I’m trying to get at is that one of these fights got bad. I can’t even remember what it was about. Food? Maybe clothes? Doesn’t matter. It got big and they said some shit neither of them meant, but Emi left. She said she was leaving, but nobody believed her. She always said shit like that. But she did, she left and we didn’t see her for a couple of days.

“‘Toru was really worried, never seen him so scared before. He went out looking for her and came back a week later. He told us she was bitten, late in the stages of infection. He said he had to…” She trailed off, voice catching in her throat and you quickly looked for a tissue, as she gratefully accepted it.

“I see the way you try to make him laugh, I know, but Emi took that part of him. He wasn’t the same after she left, and I don’t think he ever will be. So just - don’t get your hopes up when you’re around him, okay?”

“I, um, okay…?” But you didn’t even know what you were agreeing to. You just knew that Anna nodded, thankful that you heard, and the two of you made your way back to your group. Maybe it was the way your face had lost all the laughter it had just a couple minutes ago, or that Anna somehow managed to see what you were trying to do, but Gojo glanced at you, his brows furrowing together in slight worry.

You don’t know why the information affected you so much. It could have been just from how shocking it was to hear it, or the fact that Anna could tell that you were trying to get him to smile more. It made sense, the more you thought about why he was the way he was, but you still felt a part of you crumbling at the thought. Even if you never met Emi, you couldn’t definitely feel her presence after she was gone.

What? He mouthed, altering his steps so that he could weave around Geto to get closer to you. But you shook your head, reassuring him to stay where he was as you gave him a curt nod and a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

It’d be over soon, you told yourself. After you get to the camp in Takayama, it’d be big enough to go your separate ways. You’ll forget the last five years, forget everything you’ve gone through, and start something new.

If not, you’d rather just get bitten and get this hell over with.

“What’d she tell you?”

Gojo cornered you when they were all asleep, the tall trees surrounding you casting shadows over his face. You didn’t light a fire this time, Geto saying it’d be safer if you just used flashlights instead. You knew the infected had bad eyesight, relying on sound more than anything, but that didn’t mean raiders couldn’t see.

There was no point in lying, he’d sniff it out immediately if you did, so you shrugged, glancing to the side as you blindly moved around leaves, trying to be quiet to get away from the group in case any of them were awake.

“Nothing important,” You muttered, glad it was dark for once so that he couldn’t see your reaction and vice versa.

“Bullshit,” His voice was low, your eyes slightly widening in surprise at his reaction, “Wouldn’t have been nothing if you looked like that afterwards.”

Though you could barely see anything, you could feel his presence. He took up a lot of space, and you could practically feel how his hands were only a little distance away from yours. His fingers were inches away from your wrist, and you knew that because when you moved you could feel the light indent, a slight burn as if he’d set your skin aflame.

“Nothing important to you.” You specify, crossing your arms across your chest as you heard him scoff, his jaw ticking as he prodded at his cheek with his tongue. If only your past self could see you now, arguing with a man who you thought only ever had two emotions he used on and off.

He waited, hands on his hips as he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, hanging his head down for a second until he looked back up.

“Green.”

You pause, brows creasing as you huff out a laugh.

“What?”

“Green,” He repeated, “That’s my favorite color.” When it dawns on you what he’s doing you have to contain the giggle that slipped past your lips, covering your mouth when your hands as you continue to laugh.

“Why’re you laughing?” He asks, his voice genuinely confused as you laugh more, holding onto a tree trunk to steady yourself, “W-what?” But you hear the soft inflection of a laugh in his voice now, almost as if he is trying to control it as you wave your hands, trying to make it stop but you just hit his hands in the process.

“So you refuse to tell me and you hit me in the process?” Any seriousness has dropped from him completely and you laugh through your hands, trying to apologize but your cheeks hurt. It wasn’t that funny, really you don’t know why you’re reacting this way, but it’s that feeling when you start laughing, and it grows out of control for no reason.

“I-I’m sorry!” You wheeze out, trying to find his hands to apologize but he brings them to your mouth. It was dark so you couldn’t see, but his eyes darted around, suddenly realizing how loud you were being.

“Sssh, be quiet.” He hissed out, and you giggled again, licking the palm of his hand as he gave a muted yelp, bringing it close to his chest as he wiped it on his pants. He looked back up at the outline of your shadow, glaring.

“You’re a fucking child, y’know that?” He groaned, but his words didn’t quite match what his face was because his eyes softened at the sound of your laugh, carefree as you failed at trying to control it.

“Admit it, I’m funnny,” You drawled out, laughing as you hunched over a little bit, waving your finger around somewhere near his face, “You’re laughinggg because I’m funnny.” You stated, tugging on his fingers playfully, and he snorted, gently swatting your hand away as he sighed.

“You’re insufferable is what you are.” Is what Gojo finally landed on.

“Tell me something more personal and I might tell you.” You poked his chest, repeating his own words back to him as you leaned back on the tree. You had no intentions of revealing what Anna told you, but you wanted to see how far he’d go to know.

“You’re impossible,” He muttered, running a hand through his hair, debating whether or not it was even worth it to tell you something when he knew damn well you weren’t going to give any information up.

“I’m scared.” He heaved in a sigh and you cut him off with a chortle.

“Everybody’s scared-”

“Of ending up alone.” He finished, brow raising as your laugh quickly died down, some fort of satisfactory grin that didn’t mirror the gloom in his eyes made its way onto his face as he asked, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” You quickly say, rubbing at your jaw as you take a set back, easing on the trunk as you duck your head down in embarrassment, crunching some dead leaves under your boot, shame riding up your bones as you lamely shrug, “Just wasn’t expecting that.” You mutter, looking up at him from the corner of your eye.

He chuckles, taking a step closer, his breath hitting your cheek.

“What? Expecting me to say spiders? The dark?” You can feel his slender fingers a hairs distance away from your arms, careful not to touch you, but still close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“No,” You shudder, both from the cold and from him, “Thought you were ‘gonna say med school or something.”

He lets out a big groan, hands gingerly gripping your elbows as his head falls on your shoulder, fighting his smile as you laugh again, muffling it with his coat as you gently pat his back.

“Where do fruits go for vacation?” Your hand stalled on his back, feeling his slumped form take in a deep, steadying breath.

“Where?”

“Pear-is.” You heard him mumble something on your shoulder, giggling as he shook his head in mock dismay. But this was different than all the last times, you could tell. His back shook a little, and he refused to look up.

You didn't comment on the tears that began to stain your shirt, or his quivering chest every time he breathed. So you wrapped your arms around his back, squeezing a little bit, feeling his arms snake around your waist as he tugged you just a little bit closer.

Even though it didn’t feel like a lot of time had passed, it had almost been six months since you began traveling with them. The journey would have been far faster if any of the cars worked, but Takayama was only a few weeks away. According to Geto.

Gojo walked up next to you, shoving something in the pocket of your coat. You look at him from the side of your eye, digging it out to see a chocolate bar as he looks away, a little smirk on his face as you lightly elbow his side.

“Can literally hear your stomach begging for something,” He teased, his face stoic but his voice lighthearted as you laugh, grateful even if you didn’t show it as you opened it up, noting that it was dark, telling him thanks with a mouthful of chocolate.

“Want some?” You offered, holding the bar out as he declined, shrugging, “Suit yourself.” You muttered, mouth full of the sweet as you finished the rest of it. He felt his eyes lingering on your lips stained with the chocolate as Gojo dryly swallowed, averting his gaze as he looked somewhere else, his cheeks colored light pink.

“I think we’re the chosen ones,” Geto stated, walking around freely as he pointed to all of you including himself. Your group made it out of the forest a couple of days ago, so he’s been living his life, trying to enjoy the run-down towns as much as he could before you went into the forests again until you reached Takayama.

“God, you’re so fucking stupid Suguru,” Vera said, shoving past him as she rolled her eyes, taking a bite out of her protein bar as she shared a knowing look with you, the two of you laughing as Geto tried to explain himself.

“No, no, hear me out. Aside from me, you and ‘Toru, y/n, and Anna come from different places. But we all somehow found each other, and as a group, are going to the chosen place.” He concluded, wiggling his eyebrows as everybody else just groaned as he went on another one of his tangents.

“No, really, think about it,” He tried to catch up to her pace, walking backward so that he could also look at all of you when he spoke, “We’ve all been picked through natural selection. These past five, six, years and we survived them. We-”

He stopped, and all of you stopped in your tracks when you heard the dreaded sound.

Clicking. Groaning.

“Oh fuck,” Geto stopped, everybody, drawing out their weapons as you tried to figure out where it was coming from. Your heart was rattling inside your ribcage, your hands fumbling as you tried to find your gun. It had been so long since you’d encountered an infected that you were naively beginning to think that they had just disappeared.

“It’s okay,” Gojo muttered, glancing over to you as he held his hand on yours, trying to calm your shaking down a bit, “You’re ‘gonna be okay.” He was so sure of it that you almost believed his words.

But long gone was the carefree attitude as the clicking got louder both in volume and in amount.

“Shit,” Gojo looked over to Vera, “How many d’you think there is?” The clicking got louder, your fingers trembling over the trigger as you looked at the abandoned city hall, finally locating where it was coming from. He told you that she was the best shooter they had, and she was far more confident in taking clickers and runners down than anybody else was.

“Too many,” She called back, eyes darting from everywhere, looking for somewhere to escape from, “Fuck, we ‘gotta split.” You guys were in an alleyway, stuck between taking the road and going through a hole in one of the walls. But from where you could tell, taking the road was only going to direct you toward the infected. The wall still gave them an opening to wherever you guys planned to run from, so in some way, you were cornered.

“What?” He called out, taking a step back, his brows furrowed in confusion, “No way, we can’t-”

“Listen to me. Here, take my map,” She threw it over to him and he caught it, mouthing confusion but she shook her head, “Suguru and I can hold them off for right now, but you take Anna and y/n. If we can’t find-”

“We’re not going to fucking leave!” He shouted back, raising his voice to be heard over the number of infected, his cheeks tinged pink as you nodded, not trusting your words as you felt your stomach churn.

“If we can’t find you, meet us in Takayama! Don’t look back, just keep running north!” She motioned down the street, “I can radio with Anna, don’t worry!” She was trying to shove him but he wouldn’t move.

“Vera, I’m not leaving you guys-” But he was cut off by an animalistic roar, everybody’s attention shooting back to the noise, his words dying down in his throat as you saw a glimpse of the infected.

You would never get over the way they looked. You thought you’d be used to it by now, but it never fails to make your hands clammy and you're overall nauseous. They had large fungi popping out of their cranium, their clothes all battered and bloody. They ran so fast that you wondered if they were created just to outrun the human race, but now wasn’t the time for it. All you could hear was their and Vera’s screams.

“Satoru,” She took his arm, holding it in a tight grasp as her eyes darted from him to them, seething from between her teeth, “Take them. Don’t - don’t regret it like you did last time. You couldn’t… but…you can save them. Go. Please.”

He glared at her, eyes hiding a different meaning than what his face showed, nostrils flaring but he stopped. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, muttering out a barely audible I’m sorry, looking at Geto as he gave him a small nod, holding his position down as he waited to buy you guys some time.

He grabbed your wrist, urging Anna to follow him as Vera and Geto began to block you guys.

“W-wait, no, no, let go of me!” You tried to wrangle out of his iron grip but he was insistently dragging you away as you kicked, your eyes welling up, fear overtaking your body as they ran, coming closer and closer to the five of you as Gojo tried to lead you through the hole in the wall.

“Go with him, please, we’ll be okay,” Vera urged as Geto began firing, memories, similar moments cursing through your mind as you got the worst sense of deja vu. You almost felt like collapsing had it not been for Gojo’s steady hand, leading you away.

You cried out for them one last time but he already pulled you through, Anna not too far behind as you held onto him for support, your mouth open as you looked back at him, slowly beginning to realize what happened.

A couple of hours later and you couldn't feel your legs, wordlessly putting Gojo in charge of finding a house to stay at to stay the night.

It was in some run-down town, but many of the homes are still standing. It was probably some of the best pieces of architecture you’ve seen so far, meaning that most of the paint was still on and the furniture wasn’t entirely moth-eaten.

The one Gojo picked was at the end of a cul de sac, seemingly standing unharmed. Vines grew uncontrollably from the sides, and the house was caked with dirt, but you’d take it. He scooped it out, making sure there weren’t any infected hiding in any of the dark rooms, but he gave you two the okay signal and you camped out there for the night.

It was stocked with water and canned food, some chairs knocked down and carpets scrunched up as if the previous owners were trying to leave in a hurry. All the rooms seemed fine, and you just picked a random one as you threw your bag in, not caring as you made your way downstairs to where the rest of them were.

You found them in the living room, the shutters closed, hints of the afternoon sun peeking through. Gojo glanced over at you, his eyes running over your body, quickly scanning to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You made your way to a chair, rubbing your hands over your face as if that could wake you up from this living nightmare.

“They’re okay. They’re gonna be okay.” Anna said, more to convince herself than the rest of you, nodding as she said it again, but with no confidence. It wasn’t night yet, but Vera still hadn’t radioed in, anticipation deep in your throats as your wall stared at the portable radio Anna placed on the coffee table.

Gojo sat there, his legs spread out, an elbow on each knee as he rubbed at his mouth, eyes distant, lost, as he stared at nothing.

You could only imagine how he feels. No matter the sorrow you felt, he felt it tenfold. You’d only known them for a couple of months, a year at most, but he’d known them their entire lives. His shoulders sunk as if the guilt he was feeling was already pushing down on him.

Even though you didn’t know much about Emi, the hurt he carried from her was visible and inevitable. You didn’t know just how much something like this would change him if he’d ever forgive himself if something were to happen to them.

You cleared your throat, not able to bear it anymore as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Despite whatever happens, I just wanted to say thanks for getting us out. I don’t think I could have walked, let alone fought, so…thanks.” You address Gojo, watching as Anna nodded in agreement, shooting him a smile that quickly died down when she saw his face.

He dropped his hands, his eyes shining with a different sort of gleam as you took a step back, your brows and eyes squinting at the odd look.

“Vera and Geto might be dead. They might be dead because I was too fucking scared to stay and do anything to help. We don’t know where the fuck we are… and you’re thanking me?”

You stuttered, confused as you shared a glance with Anna as she slowly moved from her seat.

“I-I, well, I’m not trying to undermine what they did,” Your head tilted, your voice gentle, knowing that he was surely dealing with every possible ounce of guilt and anger under the moon right now, wishing you just stayed quiet. But you’d already opened your mouth so you had to continue, “I’m just saying thanks because you helped us. That’s all-”

“Help,” He repeated, giving an emotionless laugh as he stood up, shaking his head as his hair followed his every movement, “I ran away. I didn’t help.”

“‘Toru, she’s right, just - just calm down, come on,” Anna interjected, her eyes darting from him to you, offering you an apologetic smile on his behalf.

“She has no idea what she’s talking about. Fuck,” His voice broke, looking away as he tried to wipe his tears, “It’s like….” He didn’t finish but you knew he was going to say It’s like Emi, judging from the way Anna tried to comfort him.

“You’re,” You said slowly, not wanting to anger him any more than he already was, “You’re right. Most of the time I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I understand, and I know it’s not easy and-”

“You know? You know? Fuck y/n, what do you know? What could possibly make you understand?” You’ve never seen him like this, never had the honor of having his words cut you, sawing at your skin until they made you bleed.

You scoffed, not knowing if he was being serious, but he stared at you waiting for an answer.

“Let me see,” You give a meaningless laugh, wiping at your eyes, trying your best to not cry in front of him, not wanting to show him that his words didn’t affect you the way that they truly did, “I thought I was allowed to understand after my dad killed himself. Or maybe it was when my friend tried to kill me because I ate her fucking can of tuna,” You paused, choking on a sob, “O-or when my group left me in the middle of fucking nowhere, saying I was dead weight,” You sniffled, your voice wavering as you shook your head, pointing a finger at Gojo’s chest as you stared at his blank face.

“Just because you’ve been through shit doesn't mean that I haven’t. So - so don’t tell me that I don’t understand, because I do. It’s just, I don’t go treating people I know like shit just because of it.” A tear trickled down your cheek, hanging on your chin before it splattered on the ground.

Your chest heaved, hands trembling as you heard Anna mutter a muffled oh my god. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want any of their sympathies. But after so many years of carrying it around silently just for him to say that you don’t understand opened up the floodgates.

You went to say something else, opening your mouth before you shut it again, lips wobbling as you shook your head, ducking it as you made your way for the stairs. You tried to zone out Anna’s calls for you to come back as you found the room you assigned yourself and shut the door with a loud slam, rattling the house.

Anna came by, asking if you were hungry, but you just brushed her off, saying that you’d come down to eat later.

It was true, you couldn’t stomach anything right now, but you didn’t want to see anybody after that.

You paced around the room, doing anything to occupy your mind and get rid of the thoughts coursing through your head. You packed your bag, which wasn’t even yours, you wanted to guess that in the rush of leaving you accidentally packed Geto’s because yours sure as hell didn’t have a pack of cigarettes and condoms in it, (you’d put all your money on the fact that him and Vera were hooking up), unpacked, and re-packed it. You folded some clothes lying around, washed your face with the water from the bottles you found, and tried to freshen up. Your eyes were still a little puffy and red, but you knew it would go away quickly.

You looked through the closet and did anything you could think of. You didn’t really have the heart to take anything, knowing that somebody cared for these things at one point, but you snooped around, having nothing better to do.

From what you could deduce, a teenager probably lived in the room. Band posters were plastered on the walls, the bed had some stuffed animals still left on it. You could remember the initial broadcast saying to take only what was necessary, so it made sense why the closet was mainly empty but the other aspect of the room seemed untouched.

You looked at some of the books they had, pulling them out of the shelves as you read the titles. Some you knew, some you didn’t. The window adjacent to the bookshelf showed you an outside view of the neighborhood, the moon shining bright as you relied on that and your flashlight to move around.

As you went to put a book back you heard a knock at your door, startling you as you dropped the book on the ground. You grumbled in annoyance, glancing at it and then back to your book.

“I’m still not hungry,” You called out, bending down to grab it as you sighed, “But thanks,” You put it back where it was, wiping at your face as you navigate around the bed, going to open the door to let her in, “Hey, have you heard anything from…” You trailed off, not expecting to see a taller figure in Anna’s place.

You met his eyes, the same ones that managed to knock the air out of your lungs. His gaze softened upon the sight of your face, but you wouldn’t let that dictate your feelings. No, you refused. So instead, you quickly gathered yourself, squinting your eyes as you went to shut the door, not quick enough as he was able to wedge his foot in between, whimpering a bit as you still tried to slam it shut with it in the way.

“Ow, fuck, wait,” His hand gripped the side of the door, and you rolled your eyes, sniffing once as you let him open it himself, knowing that he’d just find another way inside if you blocked this one, “Listen,” He invited himself in, a hint of pleading in his voice as he looked at you, “Anna got Vera’s message. They're,” He sighed, his shoulders sagging a bit, “They’re fine. Little shakin’ up, but they’re gonna be okay. Said to meet up with them at the camp.”

Your eyes and mouth slightly opened, your anger with him disappearing for a second as you smiled softly to yourself.

“That’s great,” You breathed out, not knowing how to handle this, almost all the stress leaving your bones as you gave yourself a moment to relax, “Great news.” You gave him a curt smile, glancing at the door, wondering if that was all he came here for.

His eyes traveled from your face, stalling on your puffy lids as he slightly grimaced. He looked around the room, noting all the décor, posters, and memorabilia. You could tell he was struggling to find something to say, opening his mouth only to close it just as quickly.

“Thanks for letting me know,” You start, your hands hovering over his chest as you try to push him out, “But I wanna be by myself right now, so…” You nodded to the door, waiting for him to get the hint and go.

“Are you leaving?” He asked suddenly, his brows furrowed, creasing down the middle as glanced at your face at your packed bag behind you. You saw his lips trembling, hands moving up to gently cup your elbows, almost as if he needed to, or else he’d crumble over.

“What?” You look back confused as to what he was talking about, shaking your head, “I was jus-”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, so so sorry sweetheart, I swear, I d-didn’t know you went t-through all that shit,” His voice cracked, his legs moving faster than his body as you backed up against the bed, alarmed at his sudden change in mood, “Even if I did, I-I should never have said that to you. I’m so fucking sorry, please, I didn’t mean anything I said. I was talkin’ out of my ass and being the biggest fuckin’ dick ever.” Gojo’s voice trembled as if he was on the verge of tears as you almost tripped, glad the bed was behind you as you fell onto it, the springs squeaking at the sudden movement.

You watched as a giant of a man sank to his knees, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chest as his eyes watered, his lip wobbling as he almost pleaded for you to look at him and to hear what he was trying to say.

“Look, I’m really, really sorry,” He crouched down, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “Please don't leave. I’ll shut up for the rest of the way there and you’ll never-”

“I’m not leaving,” You say with a small laugh, confusion laced in your voice, “I was bored so I packed. ‘S not even my bag, think I got Geto’s or Vera’s on accident.” You shrugged as you watched his face change. Morphing as he shut his mouth, his hands still trembling as realization washed over him, slowly only leaving embarrassment.

“Really?” He asked, still not letting go of your hands you nodded slowly, heart beating rapidly in your rib cage as you waited for him to say something else.

“Oh...” He the relief on his face is replaced with something different, “Okay,” He took in a deep breath, slowly letting go of your hands as he looked at the floor, some of his hair falling in his face as he finally looked back up, giving you a small apologetic smile, “Sorry, I didn’t…” He couldn’t finish, moving quickly to stand up, mumbling something to himself as he went for the door, stopping seconds before he opened it.

“‘Toru?”

His fingers danced over the doorknob, not turning back despite his every nerve telling him to look back at you. But deep down, he knew that if he did, it would all come crumbling down. That the wall he built so highly for himself would crack, and he’d have to face the realization that he cared for you. Cared so deeply for you that seeing your face, your eyes puffy from crying because of his words would be worse than if a scolding knife was to pierce his heart. Because no matter how hard he tried to convince his feeble mind that you didn’t matter to him, you did, and he could no longer hide behind a mask and pretend that you didn’t.

“Now that I think about it I think you would have made a shit doctor.” You say, crossing your arms across your chest as you watch him turn around, his lips red, looking like he’d been repeatedly chewing on it.

His hand fell from the doorknob, taking three quick steps to get back to where you were, his hands quickly going up to hold your face, eyes scanning yours as if waiting for you to say anything. But you couldn’t, not with the way he was staring at you. He always did a spectacular job of whisking your words away from a single glance.

“You drive me crazy,” He muttered, his nose almost touching yours as your hands traveled slowly up his back, feeling your heart beating in your throat, “Whenever I see your face,” His thumb runs over the corner of your mouth, eyes falling on your lips, “I don’t what to do. And then you open your mouth and I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry o-or kiss you. And,” He sighed, a hand going behind your head so that you could look up at him, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Without your gorgeous face, your pretty eyes, your laugh, your kind, kind heart. I’ll spend a fucking lifetime making up for all the shit I’ve done if it means you’d forgive me.” He was a breath away from your lips, if either one of you were to make a single movement it’d be over.

“Relax,” You say with a little laugh, your lashes fluttering on your cheek as you take a step back closer to the bed, “I’m not gonna make you grovel or anything. But if you’re offering something as forgiveness…” You trail off, not knowing how to word words as you push his head closer to yours. Your fingers play with his hair, tangling them back and forth to make little curls, your head moving on its own as you try not to give a stupid giddy smile.

He leans in, finally closing that pesky gap between the two of you as you let out a little gasp until you melt against his chest, slowly working your lips against his.

It’s hot, you don’t know how else to describe it. Weeks, months even, of pent-up tension are adding up here at this moment.

He’s so gentle when he cradles your face, afraid you’d crumble away if he held you with any more pressure. But his kiss is anything but, aggressive and fast, not wanting to slow down as he tried to commit the feel of you to memory.

He nips at your lips, now plumper and shiny with spit, pulling away slightly as he cradles his face to yours. His hands tug you into his body, cradling your jaw as he smiles, his eyes lidded as he looks down at you.

Your hands are on his chest, slightly tugging at it as his smile grows, his cheeks all blushed out as you giggle, somewhat intoxicated by the feel of him. You’d imagine what he’d be like, sure, but the way he kissed or looked at you was nothing your imagination could have ever conjured up.

“Swear to god, if I ever say stupid shit you slap me, okay? Knock some sense into me,” He muttered, holding your cheeks, looking at you as if you had strung up the moon and the stars, and you probably did if you told him so.

“‘M not gonna hit you, maybe just tell you some stupid puns till you realize what you’ve done.” You tease, watching as his head disappeared, your laugh turning into a muted moan as he licks a stripe across the expanse of your throat, gently biting down on your pulse point as he soothed it with a sloppy kiss.

“‘Toru,” You can get out, collapsing on the bed as he gingerly pushes you onto it, feeling lightheaded as you watch him kiss down your arms, your hands, any area of naked skin he could find. It was exhilarating the way his lips felt on your skin.

“You ‘wanna take that shirt off f’me?” He muttered, hands traveling up your stomach, nimble fingers dancing under the cup of your bra, “Or d’you want me to stop?” He’s slow and patient as you quickly shake your head, already getting to work at shedding off anything stopping him as he chuckles slowly, the sound just causing you to grow even wetter. You expertly unhook your bra from your chest, watching as it falls down into your lap, suddenly aware that your top half is fully bare to him.

But he doesn’t say anything, his body almost malfunctioning at the sight of your bare tits. You almost go to cover them, conscious of his heavy stare, but he gently grabs your wrists, pushing them aside as he moves closer to you, his breath hitting your collarbone as he stifled a groan.

“Fuck,” He says, not even fully paying attention as he quite literally goggles at your breast, his fingers tugging at your nipples, thumbing at them until they’re slightly swollen, letting his hands run over them as he feels his cock straining in his pants, “S-shit, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” He whispers, glancing up at you only to see your head thrown back, finger grasping his as you try to make him work faster, pushing them down to the buttons of your jeans as he chuckles, patting your waist once as if to tell you he understands.

He gets to work, quickly getting them off of you, your underwear with it, eyes darkening as he notes your slick between your two puffy lips, gripping onto your thigh with every possible amount of self-restraint he has.

“If you don’t hurry up I’ll just tell you a bad pun n-now to get it over with. Fuck just - just touch me already!” You threaten, glaring at him as he snorts, fingers traveling up to cup your cunt as you suddenly gasp, your teasing tone dropping at the euphoric sensation.

“Where?” His thumb slowly rubs at your clit, using some of your slick as he goes at his own pace, enjoying how you paw at his biceps, gripping onto them with every ounce of strength you could muster, “Here?” He asks, using two fingers to pry your pussy lips apart, nearly coming in his pants as he did so.

“This what you want, sweetheart?” He asks, his pointer finger traveling up your slit, gathering all of your wetness as he groans, slowly pushing it in, testing your limits as you let out a wanton moan at the feeling.

“Yes, yes!” You cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. He doesn’t need to be told twice to know that you’d probably wring him out to dry if he doesn’t pick up his pace.

But he wants to be slow, not wanting to hurt you as he pushes it in, inch by inch, until he curls it, your eyes rolling back, holding onto his wrist for dear life as you wait to adjust to it.

“F-feels so good, hmm!” You squeal, your lips barely opening as he pushes the second one in, your words cut off by another moan, whining for him to go faster. You’ve been deprived for so long that you can’t even feel embarrassed at the needy way you yearn for him and his skilled fingers and touch.

You’ve only ever been with one guy before, and he knew nothing about the female antonymy so you don’t really have much to compare him to, but Gojo knew what he was doing. He listened to your every sound, noting which places made your toes curl and eyes cross, becoming more and more familiar with your body. His white hair fell into his face as he paid attention to you, glancing up at your face every now and then to smile, wanting to make sure that you were okay.

“Yeah? You’re squeezin’ me so much, fuck,” He starts pumping them in and out, the motion enough to make you go crazy, whining out pathetically as he picks up the pace a little bit, his thumb going to find you, “This pussy’s fuckin’ perfect, fuck, and she’s mine, y’hear?” He asks, only pumping into you faster, his thumb on your clit mirroring his ministrations as you cover your mouth with your hand, not wanting to be so loud that your cries could travel through the walls.

“F-fuck, just yours! Promise!” You say, agreeing to anything he said, babbling nonsense as you feel your stomach clench, your back arching as he takes in the beautiful sight of you sprawled out like this, wanting to take a mental image to commit it to heart.

“Hmm, ‘Toru, I’m gonna, fuck, gonna…!” You can’t even finish your sentence, mewling at the way his relentless motions never stopped.

It’s only a couple of seconds before you cry out, his other hand clamping to your mouth to muffle your moans, seeing white as you fall back onto the mattress, your chest heaving with every breath you take as your orgasm runs through your body. It was the most intense thing you’ve ever felt, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you creamed around them, your legs shaking as you moaned out his name.

He stops, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he watches you struggle to catch your breath.

“So fuckin’ stunning,” He says under his breath, bringing his fingers shining with your essence up to his lips as he sucks them clean, his eyes fluttering shut at your tangy taste, “Taste amazing too, sweetheart.” He takes his fingers out of his mouth, crawling up to your body, tapping on your lips so that they’d open. He pressed his fingers on your tongue, watching as you sucked on them, your eyes never leaving his. He moans, taking them out before he almost embarrasses himself by coming on the spot.

But he stops when he feels his pants tighten around his crouch, wincing because he clearly didn’t think this through enough. His dicks feels like a heavyweight in his pants, and he can feel the strain.

“What?” You sit up, worry lacing your features as you balance on your elbows, “What’s wrong?” You're now freaking out inside, thinking that he’s starting to regret this, or that he was drunk off the euphoria and now the realization is settling in.

“I don’t have a condom, and the only ones were in-”

“Geto’s bag?” You say with a chortle, pointing your chin at where the said bag was sitting, “Yeah, I know.”

Gojo chuckles, patting your cheek as he presses a kiss to your lips, almost not wanting to break away as he tastes everything on them. The chapstick you put on that morning, the chocolate he gave you. Fuck, he can even taste your cum on them, and you have to give his chest a little nudge so that he doesn’t forget what he was going to do.

He’s agile as he goes through the pockets, almost doing good at shedding off his clothes, grinning in triumph when he finally locates the pack. It gives you some time to really take in his features, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes rake over his torso, his defined chest that shines with sweat. You try your hardest not to linger longer on his dick, your mouth going dry at the sheer length of it. Despite him prepping you just a few minutes ago you still wondered how you’d be able to take him.

“If you stare any harder you’re gonna make me blush.” He says, smirking as you discover you’ve been caught in the act. But the way he laughs boyishly at you quickly looking away makes up for it.

“If you weren’t so pretty I wouldn’t be staring.” You counter, tracking him as he makes his way back to the bed, ripping the condom wrapper with his teeth as you swallow, moving so that your head rests on the board behind you as he grinned.

“Me?” He cocks a brow, taking a couple of seconds to put the condom on his dick, his mushroom tip leaking with pre as she sucks in a breath at the feeling, hoping he wouldn’t nut too fast and embarrass himself when he was finally in you, ��I’m gonna need you to take a hard, long look in the mirror then sweetheart.”

You giggle, your eyes wrinkling around the edges as your cheeks glow. He moves above you, his own face plastered with a goofy smile at the sound of your laughter. He’d bottle it up if he could, save it for the days when he really needed to hear it.

“No! I really mean it, you’re like, so fuckin’ hot, liked unbelievably hot.” You smile as he pecks your lips, grinning against his as he shakes his head in adorable defiance.

“And I really mean it too,” He counters, his nose pressed against yours as you can’t help but bring him in for another kiss, your tongues meeting each other as he laps up your taste, kissing you so harshly that it knocked the wind right out of your lungs.

When he pulls away a line of spit is connecting your lips to each other. Yours are swollen, almost bruised, but you welcome the slight sting, knowing what it was all for. After all, his are swollen and pink, so you slowly became drunk at the sight of it.

His eyes travel to your tits and down to your stomach, gripping your waist as he kisses your collarbone, his hand gingerly rubbing up and down your skin, causing goosebumps to lie in their wake.

He lined himself up with your entrance, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt his tip prod at your walls, and he groaned at the feeling, only imagining what it’d be like when he finally pushes through.

“J-just fuck me already,” You whisper, your words circling through the two of you, “Please.” You add, and he shakes his head, knowing you’d never have to ask him when your honeyed words drove him to a near point of insanity.

“Don’t have to beg sweetheart,” He says, pushing himself fully in, the two of you moaning out loud at the feeling.

You clamp down tightly on his dick, and despite him going in as slowly as you could he could feel you clenching around him. Your walls stretched to accommodate his size, and the slight pinch mixed with the godly feeling of having him fill you up almost caused you to pass out.

“Shit,” He can barely get it to pass his lips, finally bottoming out in your as your legs circle around his back, pulling him closer to your sweaty body as he places a hand near your head for leverage, “You’re so fuckin’ tight, squeezing me like that.”

“Mmm, s’cause you’re so b-big,” You whine out, your nails raking down his back, leaving angry red lines. He stills, clenching his teeth as he tries to calm down, slowly pulling out before he slammed back into you.

“Fuck!” You moan, holding onto his waist as he pistons into you, his dick shining with a mix of your own cum and wetness, glimmering in the limited light the moon offered.

His hips slanted against yours, balls hitting your ass as he moved fast, like something in him just snapped, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. His dick could reach that part in you that just made you see stars, hitting it repeatedly until you swore your back could take it.

“Oh, god, you feel so fuckin’ good, fuckkk,” He drawls out, his head falling into the crook of your neck, panting as his hands curled in the sheets, “You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me sweetheart,” He moaned against you, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he could. He trailed down your collarbone, all the way until he suckled on your breasts, pulling away so that he could give each equal attention. They glimmered with his spit, your areolas swollen from his constant motions.

“Umph, ‘Toru, s’too much, o-oh!” You cried, the new angle he was at reaching even further and you questioned just how empty it was before him. He dragged through your walls, his thumb down at your clit, rubbing little circles as your eyes shut, too heavy with lust and you couldn’t even look down anymore, gripping onto his arms to stay afloat.

“Just like that, perfect,” He talked you through it, one hand on your tit, the other busy with your clit, looking down to see his dick disappearing inside of you, going feral when he watched you becoming undone because of him, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for m-me, y’know that right?” And you dumbly nodded, not able to speak, unintelligible words tumbling out of your mouth instead.

You didn’t expect your release to build up so quickly just after you had your last one, but Gojo was too good, an expert in knowing what places would scratch you in just the right way. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your legs wrapping around him as you pulled him in even closer, tilting your head up so you could bring him in for another wet kiss.

“M’gonna, fuck ‘Toru, m’gonna…” But you couldn’t finish, moaning against his lips as you came on his dick, his thumb not slowing down on your little nub as your legs shake from the feeling, eyes crossing as he smiles at the way you clamp down on him.

“There you go, fuck, you’re so tight, fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna,” He tries to slow down but he can't, “Shit, shit, shit,” He stops, shooting his load into the condom as his hips stop, his chest heaving manically as he almost collapses onto your chest, your tits pressing against him as he takes a second to catch his breath.

The two of you can’t say anything, your hands wrapped tightly around his neck as you try to loosen up your body, your hair damp, the room stinking of sex and sweat as you try to come back to your senses.

It doesn’t even feel real, but you watch through hooded eyes as he rises, pulling out of you as his dick hangs limp. He tugs the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he ties it, chucking it at a trash can he found near the desk as he looks back at you, giving you that same debonair smile that still managed to make your heart race despite everything.

You throw a hand over your face, trying to hide it as he chuckles, giving your hips a firm squeeze as he kisses the side of your ear.

“I’ll be back, gonna get you some water ‘n clothes.” He says, tugging on his pants as he throws on his shirt laying across the floor, not bothering with any boxers as he winks at you, chuckling at the way you groan in embarrassment, tugging the covers over your naked body as if he hadn’t just seen you in your birthday suit.

“And bring me some chocolate!” You call out, peeking your head out as he nods, shutting the door behind him as you look around, still trying to fathom what just happened.

He reappears minutes later, one of his tees in hand, and a bottle with a bar in the other. He makes do with cleaning you up with a towel he found, wetting it with some water as he gently rubs it over your sensitive skin, apologizing when you wince, kissing the spots that are still tender.

You're almost tapped out, too tired to see the lovesick look in his eyes when he pulls the shirt over your chest, laying you back down on the pillows as he rubs at your forehead, thanking his lucky stars for being able to see you look like this; so carefree and happy.

There’s a lazy smile on your lips as you tug on his hand, not doing much work as you pull him closer to you. Although the bed wasn’t made to accommodate more than one person, he’d be damned if he let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

“Did you watch Star Wars?” You ask sleepily, holding his hands as you play with his fingers, hearing him snort at the fact that you were still keeping this up. But you still wanted to make him pay, even if he just gave you two of the most earth-shattering orgasms you’ve ever received.

“Used to, why?” He turns you over so you could face him, bringing up one of his fingers so that he could carefully trace out your features.

“‘Cause Yoda only one f’me.” You barely get out, giving a little giggle as he pretends to hate it, still kissing your cheek as you slink against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart lulling you to sleep.

He follows you shortly after, his soft snores filling the room as you two sleep soundly. But in the dark, before he lets the sleep take a hold of him, he promises himself that he’d never let you go. He’d take you to Takayama, or wherever the fuck was necessary to keep you safe. He wouldn’t let you cry again, wouldn’t want to see the tears that stained your cheeks because he swore he’d never been in such pain seeing you like that. You were his other half, and no amount of cheesy puns, terrible jokes, or loving questions was going to change that fact. Because he knew that once he held the world in his arms he wouldn’t trade any fucking thing to let it go.

5K notes · View notes

ctrlhope · 3 months

Text

Love Thy Neighbour (m)

synopsis: Jimin is a patient man, at least, he thinks he is. But you test him so much. Can’t you just be good? Be so pretty for him? He knows you want to be. Knows you can be so perfect, just for him.

p.jimin x f.reader

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: wc: 4.5k

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: genre: yandere/dark, smut, dark content

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: content: yandere/dark!jimin, noncon, dubcon, implied non-human!jimin, kidnapping, use of a sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, rough sex, jimin is lovesick and delusional and also a gross perv, lmk if i missed any <33

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! the demons won and i finally decided to post this after it was sitting in my drafts forever <33 i wrote this about a year ago with jimin in mind, but then i posted it to my anime blog instead. if you read it over there… no you didn’t AHSSKSH it’s still probably my favourite thing i’ve ever written tbh <33 im back into the swing of writing so nightlight coming soon!! as always please read the warnings <//3

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Creak.

Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your hiding place.

Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.

Bang.

His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.

“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, face coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.

You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. He was practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was weird, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. Not whenever he would come knocking on your door asking for sugar, at least.

You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself, your hands shaking. You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot was shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.

How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.

It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.

You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.

He said you taste delicious.

It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.

The way you could tell that he craved more.

Craved everything you had to give.

You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.

Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.

Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.

You learned that that night.

He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.

His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monster that just got his kill.

He had.

He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanour changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.

“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.

You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.

Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.

But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.

He loves that smell.

If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.

He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.

Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.

You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.

Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Seokjin told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!

You are already better than he ever imagined!

Bang.

The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!

He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.

The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.

“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defence but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.

You want to scream.

He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.

He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you..

“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.

Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.

How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.

“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are just so hard to understand…And I really couldn’t wait for you any longer.”

You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.

How deep whatever he feels for you runs.

You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it colour. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.

You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.

You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.

You can do this. You can do this.

The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.

Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.

Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.

Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.

You land flat on your face.

Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.

A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks dishevelled. Crazed.

He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.

“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”

You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.

“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”

He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”

The simple statement makes your blood run cold.

“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”

You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.

Exactly how he wants it– wants you.

You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making up his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”

His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~”

All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.

He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.

“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.

Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to silence in the dead of night when you’re left with your thoughts.

“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”

The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.

“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. He’s too thick. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”

His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just–!

“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.

His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—

Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?

He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.

Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savour this… who knows when you might come around again?

Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.

Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.

You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when your head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything, really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.

He likes you.

He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.

Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.

He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.

The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.

“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.

He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.

You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.

You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.

“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.

“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, losing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.

You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.

He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.

“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary.

Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Want to be good. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.

Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”

He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.

Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.

Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.

Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.

A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.

Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re stuffed. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.

He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.

He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”

He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your walls before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.

He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.

He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.

“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”

Right. Tomorrow. Cause this is forever.

You can’t help the small smile that creeps to your lips at the thought. Forever. ♡

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

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sister-lucifer · 8 months

Text

A Bullet in the Chamber

Proxies (Hoodie, Masky, Toby) x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Horror/Dark Angst

Summary: They want you to prove your love, to prove that you truly believe you’re meant to be together…with the help of Tim’s revolver, of course.

Content/Warnings: God, where do I start…obviously massive use of a gun, they play russian roulette, descriptions of gore, the proxies are super manipulative and emotionally abusive to reader, just a super obsessive not healthy relationship, this is NOT a feel good fic, it’s implied reader is being held captive

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

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Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“We just wanna…play a little game with you, that’s all,” Tim drawls, his voice deep and lazy as he looks at you from behind his mask.

You’re nervous suddenly. Unbearably nervous. A cold chill runs throughout your body and makes your stomach convulse in an agonizing manner, and you don’t know if you’re going to vomit or pass out first. You don’t know why. He’s only just started speaking. Maybe it’s the way he drew out the last part of that sentence, or the way he immediately tried to soothe you before you’ve even fully understood what’s going on, or just that look in his eyes that says ‘I want to fucking gut you.’

There’s a reason you learned to keep your guard up around these three.

Suddenly the little circle you’re all sitting in on the floor feels much, much tighter than is comfortable, and it doesn’t help that Toby slides in closer, bumping your shoulder with his and flashing you a knowing smirk. What exactly he knows, though, is a horrific enigma to you.

Brian is on your other side, and although he doesn’t move, for a split second he glances at you out of the corner of his eye before his gaze returns to Tim. He’s managing to hold a straight face, but you can see the corners of his mouth just barely twitching as he internally fights to keep the emotion bubbling beneath the surface at bay.

There’s silence for a few moments, you’re not sure how long, but you don’t realize they’re waiting for you to speak until Toby nudges you.

“I, uh…what, um— what kind of game…?” You stammer, immediately regretting your question despite the curiosity that’s gnawing at you like a starving animal. You shudder when Toby giggles, clearly trying to stifle the sound as he bumps your shoulder again.

Tim thinks over his answer for a moment, scratching at his stubble in a manner that is far too casual. You think he’s going to speak, you’re expecting it, but he doesn’t say anything at first beyond a tired sounding sigh. Your eyes are locked onto his hand as it reaches behind him, and when it emerges once more it’s holding onto the grip of Tim’s revolver.

“There’s one bullet in the chamber.”

The world is spinning suddenly as you watch him place the weapon on the ground, and the sound of it sliding across the floor to you makes you sick. You bite back a gag as it slows to a stop in front of you. Your mouth hangs open uselessly as you struggle for words, desperate to pull out some sort of protest to what you know he wants but no sound comes.

They watch you grapple with yourself for a few moments before Brian places a hand on your knee. It’s supposed to be a comforting gesture, and normally it would be, but now it feels like a threat.

“Hey, don’t freak out so soon,” He says, lips curled into a subtle smirk, “We did this all the time when we were younger, it’s practically a rite of passage.”

Unsurprisingly, this does little to quell your fears. You’re shaking now, unable to wrap your mind around how they could be acting so nonchalant about putting your lives on the line like this.

“Listen,” Tim huffs, “I’m gonna be straight with ya, kid. We know how you’ve been feeling recently.”

That hardly narrows it down. You’ve been feeling a lot of things recently, none of it good and all of it confusing. That’s just the sort of conflict born from this kind of captivity. You shrug, unsure what to say.

“We know you w-wanna leave,” Toby clarifies, “I saw you staring out t-the window the other day…you just s-sat there for hours.”

That…made you feel a bit guilty. You shouldn’t, but you do. You could’ve at least made it less obvious.

“We trust you, hon,” Brian adds with a nod, “But we also think we could all use a little…what did you call it?”

He turns to Tim, who yawns before answering.

“…Group bonding.”

You shudder at the phrase. Disgusting.

“I…I don’t think this is the best way to…t-to do that,” You murmur, but your words hold no weight when you can’t even look them in the eyes. You’d never take the risk of making any sort of real fuss anyways.

Tim shrugs, seeming to consider your words.

“How would you do it, then?”

You…don’t have an answer for that. Why don’t you have an answer for that?

“I-I don’t know, I mean…can’t we just have awkward group sex like other, uh…groups, or whatever?” You ask, hesitating to call your dynamic any sort of relationship.

You make sure to tack on a nervous laugh at the end to make it seem lighthearted, but no one is amused. Toby giggles, but he’s laughing at you, and it’s painfully obvious.

“Don’t stress about it,” Tim says, “Just think of it as a…a test, you know?”

He sighs when you shake your head no.

“Ya know, like…a way of proving yourself. I mean, you trust us, right?”

You hesitate to answer that, but nod quickly when Tim narrows his eyes at you.

“Good. Well, think of it this way: if we all survive this, it’s a sign that we’re…meant to be together.”

“There has to be a better way—“ You blurt out before you can stop yourself, and Brian instantly takes to calming you.

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. His other hand comes up to your face, holding your head against his shoulder.

“Calm down, baby,” He says softly, “Don’t jump ship so fast. I told you, we’ve all done this before. We’ll even go first to show you there’s nothing to be afraid of, alright?”

He’s not really giving you a choice.

You nod.

Maybe you’ll be able to just get this over with. If you sit here for much longer, you’re gonna be sick.

Toby reaches out to grab the gun first. That doesn’t surprise you at all. He’s never been one for forethought, or common sense in general. One day his hubris will get him killed, you think, but for once you’re hoping it won’t be today.

Not today.

Not here.

Not right in front of you.

Brian doesn’t let you go, continuing to hold you against him as Toby makes a show of spinning the chamber, letting it run until it stops on its own. He giggles with deranged amusement as he presses the end of the barrel to the bottom of his chin, looking back at Tim with a crooked grin.

There’s silent for a few moments, and you can’t look away from him until you follow his gaze to Tim, who is staring back with furrowed brows.

He’s still for a beat, and then he nods.

A signal.

Go.

You have a split second to process Toby preparing to pull the trigger before you bury your face in Brian’s hoodie and he, in turn, covers your face with his hand and squeezes you tight. It’s hardly comforting, but it’s better than nothing.

The soft click of the trigger seems to echo endlessly in the silence that follows.

Silence.

You quickly look back up and are immediately met with Toby’s hazel eyes looking back at you, their corners crinkled with the wide smile that’s spread across his pale face.

“Lookie there,” He drawls with a laugh, “This h-handsome face is still in tact.”

“Hardly the better outcome,” Tim mutters with a roll of his eyes.

This prompts Toby to slide the gun to him next, crossing his arms in feigned hurt.

“You go n-next then, wise guy. If you blow y-your brains out, at least we’ll know you h-had one.”

“Shut up,” Tim hisses back as he, too, brings his hand up to spin the chamber of the revolver. You’re still trying to catch your breath. You didn’t think they’d be so eager.

You’re gripping onto Brian’s hoodie so tightly your knuckles burn as you watch Tim press the barrel of the gun to his jaw, angling it upwards toward the dome of his skull.

He’s not nearly as giddy as Toby. He’s straight faced and silent, which isn’t odd, but something in his eyes is darker than you ever remember it being. You can only see his eyes with his mask on, yet you know his expression exactly. He’s staring right at you, and you’re imagining his brains dashed against the wall behind him, his face and any identifying features that once made him human reduced to a splatter of viscera that barely resembles the pieces of a person.

And when it’s all over, you think, you’ll surely be the one left to clean the mess of what used to be Tim. You’ll be left to scrub the red stains from the floorboards while the others continue on as if nothing has happened, and suddenly you can’t breathe.

The world stills as once more the trigger is pulled with a click.

Then relief hits you like a shockwave when that click is followed by silence.

Silence.

Your lungs fill faster than you were ready for, and you cough and sputter as your chest heaves with newfound breath. Brian rubs your shoulder gently, his other hand reaching out to grab the revolver as Tim slides it to him. The gun is exchanged without a word, only piercing eye contact as Brian lifts the weapon and spins the chamber, just as his companions had done before him.

It seems so natural for all of them. In the half a second it takes for Brian to lift the gun you wonder how many times they’ve done this, if you’re the first person to witness this ritual, and if not, what happened to those who came before you.

You don’t find any hope of getting answers, though, as you watch Brian press the barrel to the side of his head. He gives you a squeeze, and you can’t tell if he’s assuring you or saying goodbye just in case.

You still haven’t released his hoodie despite the throbbing pain in your fingers. You’re barely a thread away from tearing out a patch, but you can’t let go. You don’t look at him this time, unable to pull your head away from where it rests on his shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze like you’re trying to crush him, but he only lets out a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair in response as if he’s amused by your terror. You’re a scared kid to him, a foolish little child running from an imaginary monster despite the very real threat.

You can hear his hoodie shifting as he adjusts the position of the gun. You can hear the slight scratching against his hair as the barrel moves against his head. You can hear him suck in a quick breath as he readies himself to pull the trigger.

You hear the click.

And then silence.

Silence.

You’ve never been so grateful for silence.

You nearly jump out of your skin when Toby claps and laughs loudly, practically howling with wildly misplaced celebration. He shakes you in his excitement, unable to get any intelligible words out through his giggling.

“Shhh,” Brian says with a finger to his lips, “We’re not done yet.”

He’s right. Goddamnit, he’s right. Not everyone has played yet. You were hoping that maybe just this once the higher being that trapped you in this hell would have this minuscule mercy on you, but you were met with a resounding no.

Brian places the gun on the floor in front of you. You can’t hear the sound of the metal gently knocking against the wood floor, but it makes you feel ice cold. Your world is rapidly going dark as you struggle to make yourself breathe.

You can feel the others’ eyes on you, three pairs of eyes staring right at you and boring a hole through your skull that’ll surely be identical to the one the bullet will leave. Maybe they’re imagining it, too.

It seems you’re not moving fast enough for them.

Toby reaches out and grabs your wrist a bit too roughly, forcefully placing your hand on the gun. You wince like you expect it to burn, but you’re left with only the cruel sensation of metal on your palm.

You weakly curl your fingers around the grip of the gun. It feels impossibly heavy as you lift it, trembling like a leaf in the wind. You force your other hand up, placing two fingers on the chamber of the revolver as you prepare to spin it.

You press the pads of your fingers against the metal, pushing down in an attempt to spin, but the gun slips from your shaking hands and clatters to the floor. You yelp in surprise and clamp your hands over your mouth, tears suddenly forming in your eyes but refusing to flow over.

Brian sighs. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or just disappointed. He picks up the gun, and you think that maybe, just maybe he’s going to let you out, grant you some small reprieve and tell you you don’t have to do this.

Instead he wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close, and his other hand presses the barrel of the gun right to your head.

“I’ll do it for you,” He says, as if it’s nothing serious. Like he’s just grabbing a box off a high shelf to be nice.

You feel like he’s strangling you. He might as well be. It would be a more humane death.

He’s going to kill you, you think, you’re going to die in this godforsaken house with these bastards, you’re going to die in isolation with no one to honor your body.

They’ve sentenced you to death.

You think back to that question of how many have come before you. Is this what they thought about, too? Is this the first, third or twentieth time someone like you has been here? How many unfortunate circumstances have stained the floorboards red over the years this cabin has stood?

It doesn’t matter.

None of that matters.

You’re going to be the next.

That’s all there is for you to be now.

A stain of red on the old wood floors will be your only legacy.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you look up at Brian. His expression doesn’t move an inch. There’s no trace of the humor he always seems to have, not even a hint of feigned compassion or sympathy for your position. He’s not letting you out of this. None of them are.

You reach down and grab Brian’s hand where it rests in your hip, your nails digging into his knuckles. He doesn’t react. He doesn’t even move beyond adjusting his finger to pull the trigger.

Each second seems to go on for an eternity, yet at the same time everything is moving far too fast. You can’t process what’s happening but you just want it over with, that’s your only choice.

He’s lifting his finger, preparing to bring it down on the trigger.

He’s pressing the barrel of the gun into your skin just a bit harder as he readies himself for whatever happens next.

This is it.

This is it this is it this is it this is it this is it this is it this is…

The trigger clicks.

Then there’s silence.

…it.

Silence.

And then Toby erupts with animalistic, ecstatic laughter. It rings in your ears and echoes around your skull in an almost painful manner. You can’t stand the sound.

You’re alive.

The game is over.

All at once relief floods your body in such an overwhelming manner your vision goes dark. You can’t speak a word before you’ve gone limp in Brian’s arms, and he barely has time to put the revolver down and catch you. He holds you in his arms and makes a half hearted attempt to wake you, but when you don’t respond he looks up at Tim with a smirk.

“Out like a light.”

Tim can’t help but chuckle, and for a moment it’s even a full on laugh. This only encourages Toby, who’s flopped over onto his back as his body writhes with mirth.

Brian groans as he stands, pulling your body up with him. He throws you over his shoulder and nods to the others.

“I’m taking this one up stairs, gonna put ‘em to bed. I’m sure they’ll be whiny when they wake up, and you two better deal with it.”

Tim and Toby nod and wave him away. Toby’s finally stopped laughing enough to pull himself off the floor as Tim picks up the revolver. He shoves it into Toby’s chest, nearly pushing him over.

“Go put it up,” Tim orders.

“Or what?” Toby teases as he takes the gun, “You g-gonna get mad ‘cause I won’t clean up y-your toys?”

“Just do it,” Tim demands with a growl, clearly not amused. Toby rolls his eyes and huffs like a defiant child, but nods.

Tim starts to walk away, headed upstairs to his own room, but he pauses on the first step and turns to Toby.

“Oh, and don’t forget to load it,” He adds, “If it’s empty the next time I need it, I’m gonna kill you.”

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sourrpatched · 4 months

Text

A Haechan birthday post :)

lee donghyuck x gf!reader

(500 words)

genre; fluff fluff and more fluff, my first writing pls be nice <\3

“psst hyuckie.” You tried your hardest to wake your boyfriend from his very deep sleep. He laid with his face turned away from you. It was always so sweet to see how peaceful he looked while he was deep in sleep, especially when you knew he had a hard time getting rest at night.

“Hyuck.” You rose your voice ever so slightly to see if that would get him to budge. It did not.

At yet another failed attempt you sighed. You placed his birthday cake down on the counter before resorting to shaking him to get him to wake up. “DONGHYUCK” He groaned at your loud voice and grabbed his pillow to try and block out the sound of your voice.

“Donghyuck please,” You said while continuing to shake him. “I’m trying to be really romantic right now.” Now it was his turn to sigh. He took the pillow off and looked directly at you noticing how your eyes glanced over at the cake.

A smile broke out onto his face once he realized exactly what the cake was for. He grabbed your arms and pulled you onto the bed with him.

“What are you doing?” You managed to squeak out as he wrapped both arms and legs around you. “My baby is so cute she got a whole cake for me just to show me how much she loves me.” He said into your neck.

“Yes, I did actually. So I would appreciate if you could get up so you could blow out the candles and we can celebrate your birthday together.” You said though he was so obviously not really listening.

“How about we just stay like this in bed right now,” He lifts his head from your neck and looks at you. “I think the best way I can spend my birthday right now is with us two lying like this.” He said while sneaking his arm around to interlock your fingers.

You tried to turn your head away, slightly embarrassed by his shameless comment but he had only grabbed your face to meet his with his other hand.

“Why all of a sudden?” You pouted. He laughed at your expression. “Cause really I think you’re the best gift I could ever have.”

“Well now you’re just being corny,” You teased.

“Ah really?” He said before glancing at your lips.

“Yes,” You said trying to hold back your smile.

“but you love me for it anyway.” He looked into your eyes once more. There was nothing in the world you could ever love more than him. He was your person.

“I do,” You say finally breaking into a full smile.

He leaned into you meeting his lips with yours. It was always so perfect kissing Donghyuck. If there was anything that could snap you out of your many thoughts it would be him. After all he was both your biggest strength and weakness.

You broke apart from the kiss taking a breath before saying, “I love you hyuck.”

“I love you more.”

Author’s Note; Quite honestly I wanted to write a quick little wip for his bday and also to help with the hyuck brain rot i’ve had for the past week 😭🙏 this is my first EVER writing so if it sounds that bad it probably is but i’m trying here 💔 also this is kinda late into his b-day but i hope u can enjoy nonetheless :) also if u like this pls support my future SMAU i could post any day now 🤓

#haechan #lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck imagines #haechan imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #haechan fluff #lee donghyuck fluff #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #haechan soft hours #haechan scenarios #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #haechan x you #nct drabbles #haechanbdaypost

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parad-ice-lostandfound · 1 year

Text

Prompt:

Pairing: Mafia! Octavinelle and MC/Yuu/ Reader

Genre: Hurt/ Comfort ig? Slight crack

TW: Kidnapping, blood, minor character deaths, mc does get a little hurt, mentions of guns, usage of guns, violence (because mafia au), mc also curses at one point, talk of killing people, the prefect wears earrings and has hair (i saw someone use put this in warnings once). Let me know if I should add anything else!

AN: First request for TWST ^^ It's my first time writing for the Octavinelle trio, so please forgive me if they're ooc, I tried my best. This was very fun to work on! Send me asks if you wanna know more about my version of mafia!twst because I had so many thoughts about this entire au but I couldn't fit everything in one post lol. Not really happy with the ending (when am I ever) but I hope you enjoy!

"I'm telling you, you don't wanna do this," You warned your captors for the third time as they checked the cuffs holding you up by your arms. It was an uncomfortable position, kneeling with your arms restrained with metal chains above your head. Your shoulders felt sore, and with how every movement made the skin of your wrists rub against the harsh metal, you just knew that you were going to be sporting some pretty nasty bruises around them.

Vil was going to be furious about that.

You watched as the leader came into your range of vision, a self-satisfied smirk painting his face as he walked over to you. There was quite some distance for him to cross to reach you, and he took his sweet time as he leisurely walked over to you. Probably an intimidation tactic, just like how making you kneel was.

You looked at him, unperturbed. Your eyes roamed over the man, who for all his intimidation tactics, was nothing but a poor little boy way in over his head. A reckless little minnow who didn't know his place, as Floyd would say.

Speaking of Floyd. You grimaced at the monstrosity of an outfit the man was wearing. In all your time as a valued member of the mafia, you had seen many outlandish outfits, courtsey of the more openly unhinged Leech twin and the field of work you were in (power had a way of killing the fashion sense of people and letting it rot inside their head). But this... was on a whole another level.

You mentally lit a candle for everyone who had to witness the... very unique display.

A sharp slap snapped you out of your thoughts. 'Did this man, just backhand me? Well fuck you too bitch', You thought to yourself as you looked back at the still smirking man. You could feel a bit of wetness at the edge of your lip, a slight stinging also being felt at the same spot. Your tongue darted out, recognizing the metallic taste of blood as you gingerly licked at the small wound.

"So this is the little Prefect of Night Raven, hm? How... pathetic. Truly, the mafia organization has fallen if they allow the likes of you to hold any position higher than a discardable pawn," he huffed, and you resisted rolling your eyes. Here comes the villainous monologue, you thought to yourself.

As the man spoke, you took note of the people in the room. Apart from you and the man, there were five other men, all very familiar faces. All of them were earlier members of NRC, who left the organization 'honorably' before your appointment as the consigliere to Dire Crowley, the main boss.

There was nothing honorable about the way they were treating you right now though.

Very reluctantly, you listened to the man's speech about how he was basically aiming to cripple Night Raven Mafia by killing you. You forced back a yawn through the speech that was supposed to strike fear into your heart; unfortunately for him, you dealt with seven very unpredictable and occasionally difficult underbosses on a daily basis. Said underbosses must have already been informed of your forced absence.

Now it was just a matter of waiting and watching to see exactly who would come to your rescue...

The door slammed open as soon as you thought that, and the eyes of every person in the room turned to it. You smiled as a very familiar face entered the room, his mismatched eyes dark and foreboding.

"Hi Floyd," you chirped, unfazed by the frown on his face and the dangerous aura around him. Floyd's eyes met yours for a moment, brightening at seeing you, before turning even harsher when he saw the state you were in; clothes (gifted to you by Riddle) rumpled, carefully styled hair (courtesy of Vil) in a disarray, and a slight swelling on the side of your face you were struck at (which would send nearly everyone into a murderous frenzy).

"Who touched my Shrimpy?" Floyd growled out at the men. "Don'tcha know that I'm the only one allowed to rough them up? You're just begging to be squeezed to death."

At this point, the men, who were earlier frozen in fear, started to fumble with their guns. Before they could even get their weapons out, gunshots rang throughout the room, each man dropping to the floor one by one.

"Ah, pardon me, but I would prefer if you did not aim your weapons at my brother," a familiar voice spoke from behind Floyd to the now dead men in the room.

You grimaced at the blood now flowing out and seeping onto the floor, the puddle growing in size and inching closer to you.

"Jade, get me out of these things," you said, successfully getting his attention as you rattled the chains holding you up.

"Ah, of course dear Prefect," Jade hummed, and you did not need to look at his face to know that he was smiling. Jade walked over to you, stopping only to take the keys to your chains from the pocket of the leader. Placing the key into the lock and turning it released you from your uncomfortable position, and you yelped as you flopped onto the ground unceremoniously.

"Shrimpy~" Floyd's rapid changes in mood was one thing you did not believe you would ever get used to, "did you really get kidnapped by this sad little bunch of minnows?" He asked, pulling you to your feet and slightly spinning you.

"Shrimpy is so helpless~"

"Indeed," Jade smiled, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You would never get used to the all too malicious upturn of Jade's lips either. He took you from Floyd's arms, ignoring his twin's grumbling as he dusted off your clothes. "Pray tell, how could such... insignificant little men capture you, dear Prefect?"

Before you could answer, a third voice rang through the room. "Jade! Floyd! I told you not to kill any of them!" Azul huffed as he entered your line of vision, glaring at the two men who sandwiched you.

"Ah, pardon me Azul, but they were going to aim their weapons at Floyd. Not to mention how terribly they were treating the Prefect," Jade hummed, not at all repentant of his actions. Azul huffed in frustration, glaring at his consigliere.

You gave him a little wave, and Azul's eyes softened as they met yours. He looked calm and collected as he walked over to you, but the trembling of his hands as he held yours gave his true feelings away. His eyes quickly scanned your body for wounds, narrowing in displeasure at the reddened skin around your wrists and the cut on the corner of your lip.

"Prefect."

"Azul," you said, not missing the way his eyes relaxed considerably as he saw you wearing the seashell earrings he had gifted you. "Ah, so that was how Idia-san found out you were kidnapped almost immediately," he hummed. You raised an eyebrow at his words.

"The earrings have trackers in them," Jade helpfully explained.

"Well, in any case, we must take you back to the Lounge. Everyone else must have assembled there by now."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because, Prefect, we were supposed to bring your kidnappers so that a joint decision could be taken for their punishment," Azul sighed as he pushed his glasses up his nose slightly.

You glanced at your kidnappers, wrinkling your nose as the blood puddle slowly crept closer to your shoes. "They're dead."

"A most unfortunate incident, yes. But, nevertheless, their identities will suffice for now. This just goes to show that we must never leave any loose ties," Azul said ominously. "Perhaps my dear colleagues will learn a lesson from this."

"... Sure. And how did you three manage to make them stay back at the Lounge while you carried out this rescue mission?"

"The heads found it best to send us three since we were most likely to bring your captors back alive," Azul said, glaring at Floyd who just roamed around the room disinterested in the conversation. "Well, that is what Crewel and Trein thought, at least."

You chuckled. "I don't think the outcome would've been any different with the others either so... let's just get to the Lounge."

Azul smiled. "As you wish, Prefect."

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underhousearrestblog · 1 year

Text

Lost In Translation | Pedro Pascal

(summary) a drunk confession makes things weird between you and Pedro

(warnings) an age gap (oh the horror)

(pairings) Pedro Pascal x reader

(genre/ tropes) angst, lemon-y fluff, miscommunication, mutual pining, friends to lovers

(word count) 7.7k

(also) Pedro’s point of view (of sorts) is in Italics

(also) minors, scram (I’m kidding. Kinda. I was reading these types of things when I was twelve. I’m not the one to advise anything. Just, please, don’t interact. Better for my conscience and your digital footprint.)

(also) damn – I’m actually doing something here now... a step up from my usual one-post-per-six-months activity...

HAPPY READING!

Things around you blurred, people’s faces were distorted and music was giving you a headache. You lost count how many drinks you had about an hour ago and now you were regretting having any.

Your friends – who were more work acquaintances than friends – had ditched you, you had no car that you wouldn’t be able to operate in this condition anyway and not enough money to call a cab. All you had were a very revealing dress with a deep cut up your right thigh and a phone with around twenty percent charge left.

You stepped outside. Evening air did some but still not enough good for you to feel confident enough to walk those two and a half kilometers to your apartment building. Especially not in these knee-high boots. You would probably end up murdered. Or murdering yourself by accidentally stepping in front of a car. Either way, in a ditch.

You checked over you contacts for anyone who would pick up a phone and pick you up at the club at this ungodly hour. Since you had moved, most of your contacts were pretty much useless for this type of shit.

You pulled out your wallet. There were several business cards that you had gotten since you had started to work as a PR manager for The Last Of Us production team. Your eyes scanned over some of the names. Nico Parker. You weren’t sure she even got her license yet. Bella Ramsey. You knew for a fact she didn’t have a car.

Pedro Pascal.

Shit.

Well, from a purely objective stance, he was the best choice. He could pick you up and he didn’t give creepy vibes so technically you should be fine.

The problem was – he probably didn’t even know who you were. You had been on, like, two lunches with him with purely professional intentions. There had been more people from both the cast and the PR team and, even though you had spoken to him one-on-one multiple times, he had these types of conversations every day.

Worst he could do was say no.

To be fair, he could theoretically also cuss you out.

Or look at an unknown number and not even pick up.

Before you let your mind talk itself out of it, your fingers typed in his number and called.

It was quite chilly, now that you were out in dark alley with only your stripper dress on. It was pretty but god was it doing a shit job at keeping you warm.

The phone was calling and after the very first ring, you started to doubt yourself.

Maybe it would be less embarrassing if you just called your boss? Sure, she would know you indulged in an occasional living of your life but she was a woman and maybe would be more sympathetic than most of the men you worked with...

Two-

- Y/N? – unprepared for Pedro to actually pick up, you startled.

Your brain was foggy from all the alcohol and your body was still trying to decipher the sudden temperature drop so it took you several seconds to even put words together.

- Hey, are you alright? – it was actually him.

He really picked up at a quarter to midnight.

How did he know who was calling?

- Hey, Pedro, - up until this point you had used the formal “Mr. Pascal” just like everybody in your team but now it would feel weird. – So I have a bit of a... situation?

What was the term for getting drunk and placing all your trust in people that you had met two weeks ago?

- Are you alright? – he sounded worried. – Where are you?

Not wanting to appear nervous yourself, you tried to put on a smile, hoping it would make your voice sound lighter and careless.

- I’m at the... – you looked over your shoulder at the sign in front of the club, - Sensual Vibes, - you cringed at the name.

He definitely thinks you’re at a strip club.

- It’s a bar downtown. And I’m kinda drunk and I don’t really have any money, and my asshole friends left, and I’m also kinda col-

- Do you need me to pick you up? – he didn’t sound mad.

If anything – he sounded almost careful. As if he didn’t want to push any boundaries by insisting.

You were silent for a second.

Why was it so hard for you to ask for help when it was clear you desperately needed it?

Fucking pride.

You can cringe in shame tomorrow when you haven’t been murdered trying to walk home drunk...

- Yeah, - you said quietly before adding, - but it’s totally fine if you can’t. I’m sure two kilometers of walking will be fine if I can get off these stripper shoes-

- I’ll be there in twenty, - he said in a voice that left no arguments. – Go back inside. I’ll come in and get you.

- Who was that? – Oscar asked, stuffing the leftover pizza back into the box.

- Y/N, - Pedro put away his phone and went to get his car keys.

- Y/N? Who the fuc-

His hand stopped halfway to close the lid.

- Oh shit, - Oscar laughed, turning towards his friend. – Is that the girl from the PR team? It’s that Y/N?

Pedro didn’t answer and went to get his jacket. Oscar, in true friend fashion, followed him into the hallway, while teasing:

- Is that the same girl who still calls you Mr. Pascal even though you corrected her, like, thousand times?

Pedro just rolled his eyes.

This wasn’t exactly new. Oscar had never really met you – at least, in person – though there was abundance of information regarding you given by his friend every time Pedro had a drop of alcohol in his system.

- You know, if you weren’t so famous, I’d think she actually didn’t even know your first name by how much she uses the surname... – Oscar went back to pick up the leftover pizza, before turning back and looking at his friend suspiciously. – Are you sure she meant to call you? I mean, if she called you by your name, the call might have been meant for another Pedro. All I’m saying is-

Pedro threw him a dark look and turned to leave. Could that be true? You never really called him by his name and he was almost one hundred percent sure you didn’t even have his number...

- Lock up before you leave, - Pedro murmured before opening the door.

You were drunk and alone so, either way, you’ll have to make peace with it.

Once Pedro had ended the call, all you could do was blankly stare at the screen. To be fair, you were very intoxicated so... could you had hallucinated this whole conversation?

Either way – waiting inside was probably the best choice here...

You dropped down on a sofa in the foyer. You felt a headache coming on.

God, this is gonna be embarrassing...

After fifteen minutes of waiting and contemplating about leaving on your own, a hand lightly touched your shoulder, making you startle yet again. You had been way too focused on a painting on the wall to notice anybody approaching.

- Pedro? – your eyebrows shot up as if you were surprised that the person who you had called had actually shown up.

- Were you waiting for someone else? – there was a note in his voice you couldn’t quite decipher and your foggy mind refused to cooperate.

- N-no, - you stammered out. – I just wasn’t sure you would actually show up...

Now was his turn to look surprised. He opened his mouth to say something but, when you lightly swayed on your feet, he quickly put an arm around your shoulders to steady you.

When he lightly pressed his palm on the skin between your shoulder blades, a small shiver ran through your body, making you look up at him. He had probably seen or feel you shiver and had interpreted that as you being cold which was technically true. He pulled off his jacket that looked way too big for you.

You were by no means model-thin but the jacket was oversized on him so it looked like it would end up around your knees.

You shook your head.

- I’m not taking your jacket after you drove all this w-

- Don’t argue, - was all he said before lifting your arm, pulling the sleeve over it and then repeating the same on the other side. – And it’s still longer than that pretty thing you call a dress, - his eyes ran over your half-naked body.

Not in a leering way. But he did gulp when his eyes touched on the slit across your thigh.

Great, there’s no getting this out of memory, he chastised himself for enjoying and savoring you while you were very clearly drunk.

Shit, he’s probably uncomfortable, was all you could think about.

His car was pleasantly warm. You managed to climb in on your own but when it came to the seatbelt, you fingers still lacked focus and were stiff. After two unsuccessful attempts at connecting the two parts, Pedro gently peeled your fingers from the belt, reached over and buckled you in himself.

Before he could step back, you placed your hand on his bicep to stop him. The touch itself was innocent enough but you felt your skin lightly tingling as if you had touched a wire with low charge.

Pedro’s eyes followed you to where your skin had touched his. All he could do was stare at your fingers around his arm.

- Shit, sorry, - you decided he was probably uncomfortable and withdrew your hand, - sorry, I didn’t mean-

- It’s fine-

- I just wanted to say thank you, - your gaze held his. – I don’t know what I would’ve done otherwise.

There was something intoxicating in doing favors for you. He would’ve driven to pick up any of the women he knew if they were drunk and alone but your trust in him made him a bit delirious.

He wanted you to call him if you ever needed to get home drunk but he also wanted to drive you to a meaningless appointment and pick you up after work.

- It’s fine, - he swallowed before stepping back. – You’re welcome.

He could hear Oscar’s teasing voice in his head, telling him how absurdly romantic it was for him to simp after a girl who probably read his number off a business card when hers had been cataloged in his phone since day one. He probably could recall it from memory at this point.

Pedro closed the door on your side and walked around to get into the driver’s seat. He tried to take in some of the chilling evening air before getting in.

- ... and my friend said just go up to him and ask him out, - he heard you say once he got in, - but every time I looked at his pretty face I chicked out... – you hiccuped, - chic... chickened out! And then-

Your words were slurred and half-coherent.

Pedro started the car, pulled out of the parking lot and then threw a glance at you.

- Who were you trying to ask out?

- I wasn’t trying... And he wouldn’t come anyway...

Alcohol had made you braver and in a stupid attempt to rip your own band-aid off, you turned towards Pedro and whispered in an almost broken voice:

- Would you go on a date with me?

You needed his answer. Tomorrow was gonna be shameful but you could, at least, write this off as a drunken mistake. You had finally done it, you had finally gathered all your courage and taken a step-

But it was the way you had said it. With the accent on the word ‘you’. All Pedro heard was your confession about liking another man and how busy he was, and now you looked at him with glossy eyes and it made him wonder if this stupid man you were talking about had said something to make you insecure. You had just confessed about your crush and needed confirmation that other men – smarter men – would still date you.

But knowing that you trusted him enough to take you home drunk, he knew he couldn’t just confess about wanting you for himself. That was a dick move used by every false male friend around the world.

- I... – you watched his throat work, as he was putting words together, then he ripped his gaze away from where you sat in his car, in his jacket, for the first time ever giving him your undivided attention. – I think you’re amazing and any man would be lu-

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. His figure got distorted through the rapidly increasing moisture.

You are amazing.

Any man would be lucky to date you.

Not me though.

Last one wasn’t said out loud but, in your defense, it was usually never spelled out when a person was rejecting someone.

This was a rejection speech.

He was giving you a rejection speech!

You lifted your hand to silence him. He immediately did and you looked out through the window on your side.

- Please, don’t, - your voice broke at the end. – I respect you way too much and don’t want to start saying things I don’t mean while drunk.

It was said and done.

You had asked and he had rejected you. Work’s gonna be a bitch but PR, thankfully, was a team effort so you could probably take meetings with another member of the cast and make one of your colleague meet with Pedro. Eventually, your stupid little feelings would stop hurting and you would move on.

Eventually.

Until then you probably should avoid Pedro every chance you got.

It was said and done.

Even drunk, you had realized his incurable crush on you and in a very “I’m well-versed in public relations” manner had put an end to his confession. What was it that you had said? I respect you way too much...

Respect you way too much to outright say “no”.

You had a crush on a man you worked with. Probably someone your age. Probably someone who’s life wasn’t constantly dissected on every media platform.

You were a real pretty girl so even if you never gathered the courage to take the first step, that man you talked about would probably do it for you. He would be stupid not to.

Which meant that at some point you would be seen on set, laughing and kissing some other man who probably had no idea for how long you had lusted after him. And Pedro knew that if your crush forgot what he’s got, he would be way too tempted to teach him a lesson or two about not throwing away life’s biggest treasures.

Maybe even way too tempted to put the fear of god into that man. To threaten to never dare to break your pretty little heart.

But you had good taste in most things. And the man you were talking about asking out was probably good. More than good. He probably was respectful in public and would make you scream his name in private. Buy you a nice dress and later rip it off your body. Pick you up to take you places and then wait patiently for you to come back to him.

You deserved the best. And you were probably way too good for that boy you liked. Granted, Pedro thought you were way too good for basically everyone, including himself, but he also wasn’t one of those men that would pass on an amazing woman all because “she’s too good for him”.

Nah. He knew he would greedily accept your love and lust if only you offered. He might have thought you were too good for him but he also knew there were many things he could provide for you. He was successful, had money, a stable job, he was mature and wouldn’t play any games. Besides, he was damn near sure he loved you and even with you reciprocating just half of that love and affection, it still would be perfect.

- What’s your add-

Once he looked over to where you were watching him just a minute ago, Pedro found you fast asleep with your head pressed against the window. His jacket, way too big for you, had fallen down your shoulder, revealing that distractingly little napkin you bravely called a dress.

Shit.

This was definitely not good.

If he had to bring you back to his home, he knew he would see ghosts of you every time he stepped inside his own house. And that would be bad. Right now you were already everywhere at work, he couldn’t afford to let you make yourself at home in his private space too. Damage would take months to undo.

He contemplated waking you up but even then there would be no guarantee that you would even remember where you lived in this condition.

Pedro started driving towards his own home slower than necessary, hoping you would wake up at some point and give him your address.

All he could hope for was that Oscar had already left because, otherwise, Pedro would never hear the end of this...

Shitshitshit.

Your head was hurting even before you opened your eyes. That was never a good thing. Once you did, you were met with a semi-dark room that was vaguely lit by a small lamp left on on the nightstand.

Where the fuck where you?

This looked way too homey to be a hotel and way too impersonal to be someone’s bedroom. You lifted the thick blanket that was draped over you to check out if you weren’t missing any clothes. Or some more important things, like body parts.

Your eyebrows shot up in confusion when you were met with the same light blue dress you had worn at the club with just more wrinkles in it now. All you were missing where the boots that you saw placed by the bed.

You checked the small alarm clock on the nightstand.

5:06 AM.

It was early.

On a day off, you probably wouldn’t have woken up this early but your body had most likely dealt with the alcohol in your system and had woken up naturally once you had sobered up.

Then you noticed the small note placed next to the clock.

I’m not sure how much you remember but I picked you up from a club. You didn’t give me an address before passing out, so I brought you home with me. You’re in my guest bedroom. I’m in the one down the hall. I got you some aspirin and water. And some clothes.

Pedro.

There was something else written on the paper but it was scribbled out. You lifted the note and placed it before the small lamp, letting the light shine through.

Cute dress.

You smiled, however that smile lasted for exactly one second before you remembered the conversation in the car. You had asked Pedro on a date. He had given you the “there’s more fish in the sea” speech.

God.

You had excused your bravery with “you can live today and be embarrassed tomorrow” but now, when tomorrow was finally here, you weren’t sure it was actually worth it.

Thank god you didn’t work closely with Pedro because this would be ten times more awkward if you were an actress.

You quickly changed into the clothes Pedro had left for you. It was a white t-shirt with something spelled in a foreign language you didn’t understand. The shirt reached down to your knees and covered more than your dress had. You could technically leave in just the t-shirt but your sudden sobriety would probably result in you freezing to death so you decided to wear sweatpants as well. You rolled up the ends of the pants that were too long, threw a glance in the mirror and decided that you looked presentable enough.

Once you left the guest room with the dress still in your hand, you tried to find out if Pedro had already woken up. It seemed unlikely. It was very early.

And that seemed to be the truth, as none of the lights were on in neither the kitchen nor the living room. Or in the hallway.

Thank god the key was still in the door and you didn’t have to wake him up to unlock the door. You carefully tiptoed through the hallway and sneaked out through the front door, leaving nothing but a vague scent of your perfume and a note on the living room table.

Thank you. Truly. You have no idea how grateful I am. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you ever need anything.

That’s exactly how Pedro found your note three hours later when he woke up. Note had no name. Apparently, you didn’t assume he rescued women every night and didn’t think he would mix you up with someone else.

As if he ever could.

He was quite grateful to have missed you, in case you remembered how he had come onto you in the car. He didn’t want a pitying glance and you saying sorry, as if you had anything to be sorry about.

Don’t hesitate to contact me if you ever need anything.

Pedro let out a bitter laugh. That’s what you sign at the bottom of a work email, in hopes the recipient never truly reaches out for anything. You just felt like you owed him.

three weeks later

Pedro felt somebody brush a makeup brush over his temple to add some last touches before the filming started. People were running around, adding and taking down some props. Camera crew were doing some last check-ups. And in what Pedro thought was a torturosly ironic touch to an already important scene that caused some nerves to resurface, you were there.

In fairness, you weren’t here on your own and by your own wish. Some people of the PR and social media management teams were here, hoping to take some photos of behind the scenes for marketing.

And they were all pretty irrelevant because his eyes didn’t leave you for one second.

Pedro, Bella and some of the others were placed good ten meters from where you were standing by the door of the room that seemed to shrink every second. You were either unaware of his intense gaze or simply ignored it.

Pedro didn’t know which one would piss him off more.

There weren’t many things that didn’t irritate him these days. Oscar had started to call it Y/N withdrawal. As if he was an addict. A junkie who’s been cut off from his favorite drug of choice.

At first, Pedro was understanding. You probably felt weird you had clocked him liking you and wanted space. Fine. He would be an asshole not to give you space. Then he called you but the call always went to voicemail. On week two he had the first PR dinner since ‘the incident’ and when you didn’t show and had sent one of your assistants in your place, it only soured Pedro’s mood. The assistant had lied about you not feeling well but when you were still nowhere to be seen on the next meeting – and the next – he knew it was an excuse.

You were making excuses.

Week three took the crown when at one of the advertisement meetings that was mandatory for all cast and production team members, you had apparently ‘had a doctor’s appointment’.

Now he was pissed at the whole world and especially himself for fucking this up. You were a smart girl and he should’ve expected you to put two and two together that night. And, in addition, he was just a tiny bit pissed at you for not giving him a chance to apologize.

When you excused yourself and went into the kitchen, Pedro quickly stood up.

- Sorry, - he murmured to the makeup artist. – I’ll be right back.

Filming was set to start in ten minutes.

That was all he needed to say the things that needed to be said.

You were facing the open fridge when Pedro walked in. You read something that was written on the side of what looked like a protein shake.

You looked good. There were no signs of tiredness in your eyes. No sluggish movements. No yawning.

That was good, Pedro tried to tell himself.

Would it hurt for you to be a little affected that he was absent from your life for three whole weeks?

Then his eyes caught a thin bracelet around your wrist. It was shiny and had a minimalistic heart charm on it.

Pedro recalled Oscar once mentioning getting something similar to his wife because “the only time women wear heart jewelry is if it’s gifted by a man who’s interested”.

It was quite a big assumption that the bracelet was, one, a gift, two, from a man, and three, that it was the same moron you wanted to date. And yet it only fueled Pedro’s irrational jealousy and anger.

He let go of the door and it fell shut with a loud bang.

You jumped.

- It’s really unprofessional, you know, - Pedro accused. – This behavior of yours lately.

It only took a second for you to go from a startled look to a glare. You put the drink back in the fridge and shut the door. Loudly.

How matching.

- Excuse you? – you pushed back.

- I get that you’re avoiding me and that’s fine but you also have a job to do, - he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. – You’ve missed several PR meetings and allowed your underage intern to replace you.

You chuckled under your breath and looked away.

So that’s what this was about...

- So you feel a bit neglected because an intern – highly skilled, might I add, - was attending a few of the meetings? Is he not good enough for you?

Pedro looked at you as if you’d grown a second head.

- I don’t care if he’s as useless as a toddler – don’t change the subject!

You blew away a strand of your hair that had fallen in front of your face.

God you looked hot angry.

When you tried to side-step him and leave, Pedro followed your movements until his back hit the door, leaving you without an escape. He leaned against it, wrapped his right palm around his left wrist and looked down at you.

- You’re avoiding me, - he was glaring at you.

You glared back.

- No shit.

Pedro had expected more resistance. Or more excuses. He definitely expected you to look at him with a confused stare and say ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’. Now that you had done none of that, it felt a bit weird to “confront” you because you had had every right to avoid him.

- I’m just making sure you don’t get a write-up for skipping work, - even though the words were genuine, the tone was rude and you recoiled.

You looked up at him as if he’d slapped you.

- Are you threatening to snitch on me for skipping few meetings?

His eyes widened.

Shit.

- That’s not wh-

- Fuck you.

Now he looked like you had slapped him.

This was going downhill and fast. He had never accused anybody of bad work ethics and you had never cursed at someone for essentially doing nothing wrong, really.

You had spent three weeks, trying to soothe your ego. But rejection still stung. And, for the first time in your life, your personal feelings had affected your professional life. There was no excuse for that.

So you exhaled, counted to ten, got to five and decided to push your emotions down. You didn’t actually believe that Pedro would ever attempt anything to harm your career but he was still a big star and, would somebody come across this very unprofessional conversation, your future job opportunities might be in jeopardy.

- Listen, I’m sorry, okay? – you said, then quickly added. – For missing those meetings.

You didn’t want to voice that you were also apologizing for taking rejection badly.

Even though, you were.

- Won’t happen again.

His eyes softened.

- I’m sorry too, okay? – he lifted his hand to place it on your shoulder or upper arm but decided against it in the last second and let it fall back against his side.

You laughed. Genuinely.

- What are you sorry for?

- For what I said in the car, - he explained.

Your eyes returned to the startled expression that they were in when he first came in. You had wanted to avoid that night but he had brought it up voluntarily. He could see your prey-like expression and shook his head:

- I didn’t mean... – he got quiet for a second. – That would be a lie. I did mean it. But I think I could’ve worded it better. Maybe. Or explained it to you when you were sober...

I didn’t mean... That would be a lie. I did mean it.

His words, even though soft and placating, still grazed your heart like a knife.

You could respect him for not leading you on.

Leading someone on was still worse than letting somebody down gently.

Be a big girl and accept defeat like a champ, you motivated yourself.

- That’s fine. It didn’t mean anything.

It didn’t mean anything.

You had realized he liked you, damn near loved you, and it didn’t mean anything.

His love meant nothing.

Pedro swallowed and nodded. When you gestured towards the door that he was still blocking, he stepped aside, letting you leave.

- Did you feel harassed by me? – he asked before you left.

You laughed. But when you realized he was dead-ass serious, your smile fell.

- What?

- In my car. That night. Did you feel harassed by me?

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Even though it was absurd for him to ask this, you felt warmth engulf your heart.

He’s making sure you didn’t feel unsafe with him...

God.

He’s gonna make a great partner to someone someday...

- God no, - you grinned, trying to put him at ease.

- You sure? – he asked.

- Of course, - you gave him a bittersweet smile. – How could I have felt harassed? Nothing happened.

Nothing happened, as in, I asked you out and you turned me down, simple as that.

Nothing happened, as in, you figured I liked you and that realization meant nothing, I still mean nothing to you.

When week four rolled in, things had went back to normal. The weird kind of normal. The professional kind of normal. You were present in all PR meetings you needed to attend, Pedro went out of his way to treat you like a friend.

He had started bringing these weird mini cupcakes from around where he was living. Every meeting, he would show up and give them out to all, usually five or six, attending persons. He would never skip you, giving you exactly the same amount of pleasantries, sweets and eye contact as to every other person from the cast and PR teams. It was as if he had timed your interactions to make sure you felt identical to everybody else here.

You translated his actions as he’s making sure to drive home the point of “I treat everybody like this, don’t make this weird, you’re not special in that sense”.

He translated his actions as making sure you saw that even after you rejected him, he still wouldn’t be passive-aggressive towards you and wouldn’t exclude you from anything.

“Don’t make things weird” had become a motto for both of you, at this point. This was exactly why Pedro had advised Oscar to also invite you to the party he was throwing in honor of ending the shooting of one of Oscar’s movies. Even though Pedro knew you would show up all dolled up and, most likely, with a plus one, as suggested the invitation.

And “don’t make things weird” was exactly why you had accepted, even though the last time you had attended a formal function, it had ended with you at a club and with no ride or money.

You had showed up in a black sleeveless dress that reached your knees. Pedro had had exactly one drink and he was using the hell out of it as an excuse why he couldn’t – and wouldn’t – take his eyes off you. The dress was simple and maybe exactly because of that your own beauty shone through more than usual when there was nothing to distract people from it.

Then you turned towards the small home bar and his eyes slid over your frame, landing on the dress’ very deep slit. This time it was on the behind of your dress’ skirt.

You and the fucking slits. Making every piece of clothing look like it was designed specifically for you...

- Thank god moods are not contagious because this would be the saddest happy event ever, - Oscar’s hand landed on his friend’s shoulder, as he followed Pedro’s gaze down to where you were standing.

Pedro unintentionally moved to block you from his friend’s eyes which came as a surprise to both. It was very clear that Oscar had no negative or positive intentions regarding you so it was even more weird when Pedro felt small pang of jealousy when he saw the bottle of wine you had gifted Oscar for hosting the party.

Oscar raised his eyebrows, amused.

As if asking, really?

You, on the other hand, were doing everything to avoid Pedro that evening. He looked good. He looked so handsome even though he was one of the very few men here who had chosen to wear a sweater instead of a suit or a dress shirt. You definitely needed a distraction and given how it had ended with drinking last time you got drunk, you avoided alcohol like it was the plague, only drinking virgin cocktails.

The biggest problem with avoiding someone is that that person is living in your head rent free, in order for you to be where they are not. Which meant that before you avoid them in a room, you have to check specifically for them. The biggest support for you in this was the fact that Pedro seemed to avoid you as well, so it was quite easy to keep your distance.

- Is there a guest I’m not aware of? – Oscar humored lightly. – Or are you stalked by someone?

Only the ghost of your best friend.

You smiled, shook your head and asked a few questions about the movie to whose ending this function was dedicated to. After some time he excused himself and said to go look for his wife but before he left, Oscar casually threw out:

- I’m sorry things are weird between you and Pedro right now, - he seemed apologetic.

You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Pedro had clearly told him about what had happened.

It was already embarrassing enough for you to realize that Pedro had been sober that night and remembered every word your drunk self had confessed. And, to add insult to injury, the rejection still kinda stung. But he had clearly told everything to another man. And that one made you even more upset because you knew Oscar by reputation only but that reputation was quite good. So he probably felt sympathy for your little groupie act by asking out someone clearly out of your league.

You averted your eyes. How many other people knew?

- Look, he’s a grown ass man, he’ll be fine, - Oscar put his hand on your shoulder in a pacifying manner. – It’s just that this was his longest crush ever so it will take more time than usual...

Because you actively tried to block out his voice, the words didn’t register at first. And, once they did, they still didn’t make much sense.

- But it will-

- What did you just say?

Your tone was harsh and it made Oscar do a double-take.

- I... I’m not trying to pressure you into anything by what I said about being his longest crush, if that’s what you meant. I promise.

Your eyes searched his face for any signs of amusement or humor... or confusion. When you didn’t find any, you put down your drink and turned your full attention towards him.

- What did he tell you happened that night?

Oscar looked at you like you were a child asking to explain the alphabet.

- I’m not sure I should-

- He clearly told you something! – you raised your voice – not loud enough to be heard by everyone but enough to make some of the closest people turn heads.

Oscar nodded:

- All he told me was you figured out he liked you. And you don’t like him back, - Oscar used the tone he probably used with his kids. – And that’s fine. You have every r-

- What kind of fairy tale did he fed you? – your first thought was that Pedro had lied to his friend.

But why would he ever do that? What could he possibly get out of telling people you were the one who rejected him? Letting someone down wasn’t a crime and it didn’t make you a bad person.

- He rejected me! I straight up asked him out and he gave me the whole speech about there being men who would be oh so lucky to date me. And then he kept on friend-zoning me for a month just for funsies. Making sure I knew my place was with all the other people who worked for him!

When you turned to leave – and maybe give that free alcohol a shot or two – Oscar unceremoniously grabbed your upper arm and turned you back.

- That can’t be true, Y/N! You were the one drunk! Are you sure you remember everything okay?

You rolled your eyes, trying to pull your arm away.

- I was drunk, not stupid! I know rejection when I receive one!

Oscar’s grasp wasn’t hurting you or anything but it probably looked like you were fighting from afar, at this point.

- Look, Y/N, calm down, - he lowered his voice so other people wouldn’t hear a thing. – All he told me was that you had confessed liking someone you worked with, and-

- And who do you think that someone from work is, genius?

You could almost hear gears turning in Oscar’s head.

- So... When he said that you had asked if... When you were wondering if he would date you, it wasn’t because...

You waited.

- ... it wasn’t because you were insecure about nobody being interested in you?

- Why would I give a shit if other people were interested in me?

It was a good thing you were sober because it was taking a good amount of time to understand this even sober. Your eyes widened when you finally put the pieces together.

The way Pedro looked almost crushed when you had interrupted him to silence him in the car.

Please don’t. I respect you way too much and don’t want to start saying things I don’t mean while drunk.

Could he had mistaken it for rejection?

You silencing him out of respect so you didn’t have to tell him you didn’t want to date him? Did he thought that you were thinking his ego couldn’t handle being rejected by someone who was not rich or famous?

Shit.

You tried to find his pink sweater somewhere in the crowd. He couldn’t have gone home already, could he? You had relatively little knowledge of the layout of Oscar’s house so your best shot was to run into Pedro somewhere.

Your wish manifested a bit too literally, when you roughly rounded a corner and ran straight into someone.

Pedro’s fingers wrapped around your upper arm in the same manner Oscar’s hand had just mere seconds ago. Just to drive home the point of your attraction to him, a small shot of electricity shot through your arm whereas nothing even similar had happened when his friend had touched your arm.

- Careful, - he steadied you and then removed his hand.

When you looked up, you noticed that he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

You thought you had gotten over this awkwardness...

Guess not.

With music still sounding throughout the house, you looked around, grabbed the front of his sweater and pushed him into one of the many guest bedrooms here. Once you closed and locked the door, you turned towards Pedro who was looking a bit thrown out of the boat.

For one moment, nobody said anything. Then you pushed down the dress that had ridden up your thighs while you were frantically looking for him throughout the house, and stepped closer to him.

The height difference was always a turn on for you but right now it did nothing but annoy.

- Sit down, - you commanded.

He took a step back and sat down on the bed.

When he looked up at you, you realized that you probably shouldn’t have asked him to do that. Your foggy brain finally decided to give you back few of the memories missing from that night month ago.

When he had gently lowered you onto the bed and you had finally woken up just in time to see him drop down on his knees to take off your boots. Out of concern, he had looked up at you with a very similar expression as he was having right now. With his lids lowered, eyes dark and pupils dilated.

When his brows furrowed in confusion, unaware of your flashbacks, you snapped out of it.

- Why does Oscar think I rejected you in your car that night? – you demanded before you lost your courage.

Pedro looked away.

You had had a long day at work today and still most of your energy had went into dodging Pedro at every corner, trying to not even look at him, while simultaneously keeping an eye on him at all times to not accidentally get close. Your patience had worn out long before you got here.

You unceremoniously grabbed his chin and turned his head back towards you.

- Look, I’m sorry I told him, - Pedro raised his eyes to meet yours. – I needed to tell someone and you were avoiding me and refused to even look at me!

You shook your head and tried to step back before he grabbed your hand in both of his.

- I’m sorry.

- What are you even sorry for? – you ripped your hand from his. – For lying?

When all he did was stare up at your in confusion, you took a step back to keep some distance.

- Do you get pity points or something for act-

Pedro stood up and you lost any advantage you had due to height. When he advanced towards you and you still stepped back, he caught your wrist, refusing to let you leave.

- Stop running from me! – he demanded. – Talk to me!

Fine.

- Fine, - you still tugged on your arm and he still didn’t let go so at some point you had to give up on it and leave your hand in his grasp.

- Tell me why you were avoiding me for a month, - he used a painfully soft tone as if afraid you would run at the very first sign of confrontation.

You were silent for a moment, trying to find the right words to sound like a mature adult.

- I guess... – you sighed and decided to just get over it. – I was hurt that you weren’t interested in me when I asked you out that night after you picked me up. I was butt hurt and it wasn’t fair to you because you have ever-

You didn’t get to finish when he closed the small distance between you and pressed his lips against yours. You would’ve pulled back by surprise if not for Pedro’s hand cupping the back of you neck.

Your heart seemed to simultaneously skip a beat and stop altogether. After the initial shock, you slid your hand into Pedro’s hair and lightly pulled him back by it.

Amusement danced in his eyes with a light shake of his head.

- To think we could’ve done this weeks ago, - he laughed.

You felt a bit giddy inside, still not really comprehending every piece of this misunderstanding but, in your defense, it probably had been quite hard to catch any love signals that night when you were wasted.

- You want me to ask you out again? – you proposed.

- Nah, - he shook his head. - I’ll do the honors, - he cleared his throat. – You’re going on a date with me.

You cocked your head.

- Are you asking or telling?

- I assumed you were a sure thing, drunk words being sober thoughts and all that...

This felt a bit too good to be true but you weren’t going to question it. Once you both left the guest room, with Pedro’s hand still wrapped around yours, and turned the corner to return to the party, you found Oscar leaning against the wall in the hallway with a drink in his hand and an amused look in his eyes.

- No freaky business under my roof, - he gave his friend with a stern look. – That’s like the only rule I have.

Only when his eyes found your intervened hands, he chuckled under his breath.

- Love must be hard when you’re both idiots, huh?

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal #imagine #oscar isaac

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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months

Text

End of the World: shower drabble (m) | myg

you take your first real shower in four years (with Yoongi).

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: post-apocalyptic, dystopian, survival (it’s just undertones from the main story). This one is just pure fluff with some implied smut → Tropes: established relationship → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 1.2k → Warnings + triggers: mentions of the war, bombings, deaths and such. Unprotected sex (it’s more implied than anything else), kissing, oral (implied), shower sex (implied). → Author’s note(1): this is just a really short drabble for the sweet anon that wanted to read about OC’s first shower [link to the request here] 🥹 the fact that she hasn’t had a proper shower in so long 😭 so here it is! I hope it was okay 💜 Also, this technically takes place in the middle of ‘End of the World: A Flickering Hope’, this is from their first day at Whalien52 💕 → Read on AO3? [link]

[navi]: end of the world // end of the world: a flickering hope // shower drabble // whalien52 // end of the world: epilogue

It’s not that you haven’t washed in four years—just that you haven’t had a proper shower. Does the rain outside count as a shower? Hardly. But that’s been your life: rain showers. Better than nothing, right?

Your hair, tangled and knotted, might need cutting if you can’t brush it all out. Yoongi’s hair has grown so long he could tie it in a pretty ponytail or a man bun.

Meeting Whalien52 has given you and Yoongi many things—one of them being your first real shower in years.

In the past, you could go a few days without a shower, no big deal. If you were home and didn’t have to socialize, showering didn’t matter much. But now, with grime, dirt, and sand clinging to your skin, you long to wash it all away. You want to feel clean and fresh, to rinse off the horrors of war, the bombings, the deaths... The only memories you want to keep are those of Yoongi. Oh, how you wish you could forget the rest, erase it, turn back time. But Yoongi? Him you want to keep forever.

“Are you coming, babe?” Yoongi’s voice from the bathroom interrupts your thoughts.

Oh, right. He’s waiting for you in the shower. Naked.

You can already hear the water running, hitting the tiles. The sound prickles your skin, quickening your heartbeat. You want it so badly—to feel the water on your skin, to soak, to be washed clean. Your mind drifts back to that time in Yoongi’s house when he washed you and took you on his bed afterward.

Your skin heats up, goosebumps rising all over. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you had a fever, but you’re just excited for your first real shower in years. You’ll have to thank Jungkook and Taehyung for building this. You guess you owe the whole crew for many things, one of them being a new home and new friends.

You enter the bathroom, the hot steam enveloping you. It feels humid, but you don’t mind. Your smiling face greets you in the mirror, though it’s already fogged up, making it hard to see your reflection.

In a hurry, you shed your clothing, letting everything fall to the floor. These clothes might not survive a hand wash; you might have to throw them out. But it’s no matter. Jungkook has gifted both you and Yoongi some of his big tees and sweatpants, and that will be fine for now. It’s your first day here, and now you can finally have the shower of your life.

Wrapping your fingers around the shower curtain, you drag it to the side, revealing your naked boyfriend. A soft smile graces your face as your mind races with illicit thoughts.

“Is it hot?” you ask, extending your hand into the spray. The water hits you, feeling both prickly and comforting. It’s not too hot; it’s perfect.

“Come in and find out,” he smirks, sticking his tongue out teasingly.

You step into the tiny shower space, barely big enough for two. Pressed against your boyfriend, you struggle to breathe as the water soaks your hair, trickling down your face and naked body. It feels foreign but good. You take deep breaths, letting the moment envelop you; the warm water wraps around your body, cleansing it of grime and blood. Yoongi pulls you into his embrace, his strong chest and heartbeat grounding and calming you as always. The water dances on your skin, covering every inch of you and Yoongi, gently cleansing. It feels magical and surreal.

Yoongi moves his head to your neck, teasing your skin with his mouth. His tongue licks and he grunts into your neck, “This is amazing. I missed showering with you.” You hum in satisfaction, because yeah, you’ve missed this too.

Your hands move over his body, scrubbing him clean of dirt without shampoo. You feel something poke your stomach and look down, “You’re hard?”

He giggles, “Well, can you really blame me?”

You giggle, biting your lip teasingly as one of your hands finds his erect cock and you begin to stroke him. The shower becomes stuffier, more humid with your panting and moans growing higher and higher. You always want him and can never get enough.

When you’ve given his dick enough attention with both your hand and mouth, he turns you around and fucks you against the cold tile of the bathroom wall. It feels nice with the warm water still caressing your skin, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. It becomes hard to breathe. Both of your breaths are short, and you climax together in a panting mess, while the shower washes away the traces of your essences.

“Showering feels so nice. Especially with you,” you giggle, kissing him.

He hums, and you feel it against your breasts. It feels like love, whispering that everything will be okay.

Yoongi picks up a shampoo bottle, squirting some liquid into his hands, and then begins to wash you completely clean, even washing your hair like he did all those years ago. You relish the feeling of being cared for, momentarily forgetting what’s happening outside these walls, outside this hideout. You savor the sensation of being taken care of, because you’ve taken care of so many. It’s okay to have someone else care for you. It’s okay.

Yoongi’s gentle hands coax out the grime and tangles, each touch a soothing balm to your weary soul. The water cascades over you, washing away layers of dirt and despair, leaving you feeling reborn. His fingers work through the knots in your hair, a tender reminder of the care you had forgotten you needed.

The steam wraps around you both, creating a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. You lean into Yoongi’s touch, letting out a contented sigh as his hands glide over your skin, massaging away the tension of years spent surviving. You moan softly, feeling a new wetness pool between your legs, and Yoongi chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that vibrates through you. When it’s your turn to wash him, he shivers under your touch, releasing needy sounds that make you laugh, because you have the same effect on him. The water, the touch, the shared intimacy—it’s a ritual of cleansing, a renewal of hope.

After the shower, you wrap yourselves in soft towels, feeling lighter, cleaner, more human. You’re spent too much hot water, but it was much needed. You slip into the clothes Jungkook provided, the fabric soft and comforting against your freshly washed skin. Brushing your teeth with new brushes feels like a luxury, a small act of normalcy in a world turned upside down. You’d been using your long ones for too long. It’s nice. Everything’s nice. You’re hopeful. Hopeful for the future. Everything is going to be alright.

For the first time in what feels like forever, you go to bed with freshly washed hair, freshly washed skin. Next to your boyfriend. You get to sleep in a proper bed. A real bed. And it feels like a good mattress too. You feel like you’ve won the lottery. Lying down in the bed, with Yoongi beside you, feels like a dream. The mattress cradles you in its softness, and you marvel at the simple pleasure of clean sheets and a real bed. You close your eyes, letting the events of the day settle into your bones, a quiet certainty blooming in your chest. This is your first day at Whalien52, but you already know that every day that follows will be filled with hope and possibility. Everything might just turn out alright for you.

→ Taglist:@idkjustlovingbts@lovelgirl22@gimeow@sweeetas@viankiss @goldietigers294 @this-most-assuredly-counts @futuristicenemychaos @funnygirls-things @ysljoon @livingformintyoongi @as-hs-blog @urmomluvsrose @yasmineixyjay @purpleheartsandarock1 @alextgef @coree730 @wobblewobble822 @coldcoffee2121 @zzoguri

okay fuck you tumblr for not making the tags work! rip, I don't get why it isn't tagging people *cries*

→ Author’s note(2): I’m really sorry if this is shit… I’m really struggling with my writing, but when I read anon’s request I got a burst of inspiration and decided to write it down. I’m sorry if it sucks.

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onlymingyus · 6 months

Text

I Hate to Admit

• pairing; lee jihoon x f reader • genre; angst • warnings; alludes to cheating in the past, arguments, tension -- no happy ending • w/c; 770 and some change • i hate to admit - bang chan • don't listen in secret masterlist • a/n; this song is one of my favorite songs. it hits me right in the feels every single time. i was in a sad place when i wrote this, so i am sorry for that. thank you to @onlyhuis for betaing. i also hope you all don't mind a bonus posting 💕

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

He took the same path every day, rarely looking up, but your voice caused Jihoon’s heart to clench and his eyes to lift today. You were talking on your phone, a pretty smile on your face. Ending your phone call, you slide the phone back into your pocket only to stop when you find the man looking at you.

He missed you so much. He wanted to tell you that. You instantly put a smile on his face that he couldn’t hide. You made his heart beat faster, and his palms sweat. He felt warm around you as if you were the sun.

“Jihoon…hi.”

Your voice was quiet and timid, but that was to be expected after the fight and his avoiding your calls and texts. He didn’t want to read another text about how sorry you were when he knew it wasn’t real.

“Hey.”

Jihoon clears his throat, lifting his hand to run his fingers through his long hair. He knew he needed to get a haircut, but with everything going on…it had become the least of his worries. His eyes move over your face as he takes a step forward, his hands sliding into his hoodie to hind how nervous he actually was about seeing you now.

“You look…really good, Jihoon. I–did you get any of my calls?”

You watch as the man in front of you nods to answer your question. It made his answer sting that much more. You knew you didn’t deserve him to answer the calls or to even call you back, but it would have made things feel better. Easier?

“I see–”

“You look pretty, Y/N. Uh…”

Jihoon’s words cut you off causing you to furrow your brows. He felt confused and in pain looking at you. He loved you so much and yet just looking at you hurt. He wanted to give you a second chance more than anything, but he had spent his time trying to forget. You watch Jihoon’s mouth start to open only for it to close again.

He wanted to say something more, but you could see him processing it in front of you. In his mind, Jihoon was considering if you’d go out to coffee with him, and talk through everything that had happened. If maybe that could get you and him back to where you had been before it had all gone to shit so quickly. But as soon as the words started to form on his lips, Jihoon pushed them away knowing it was a bad idea. He hated to admit to himself that there was no saving this.

“I hope you have a good day. I should get going. I gotta get to work.”

Jihoon doesn’t wait for you to argue. He can see the hurt in your eyes, the way you want to try to change the past and present. He wanted to change it too, but he had spent too many nights already trying to do that. Walking past you, Jihoon doesn’t look back and you blink the tears from your lashes knowing it was what you deserved.

With his studio door shut behind him firmly, Jihoon lets out his uneven breaths as his own tears threaten his eyes. He hated knowing that he had probably made you cry. That was one thing he had promised you while you were dating that he’d try not to do and yet he had lied. He had lied because you had lied.

Sliding down in his chair, Jihoon blows out a deep breath before closing his eyes trying to push you from his head but instead, he can only remember more. He pictures your hand in his, your body against his, your lips meshing with his own. Fingers clench at the arms of his chair and Jihoon remembers asking you “Why, him? Why, Seokmin?”

He remembers your eyes full of tears as you tried to think of how to lie your way out of it only to break down into apologies because you had been the one to cheat. You had cheated on him with one of his best friends. You had said you loved him and it had been a lie.

Lifting his hand, Jihoon groans in annoyance pushing tears from his cheeks as he mutters to himself that he has to stop this. He had cried over you too many times. Every time a text came to his phone with another apology. Every time you had called him trying to tell him how much you loved him, Jihoon had cried because he loved you.

“I gotta forget her. She's changed, just gotta let go.”

#woozi angst #seventeen angst #svthub #svt angst #jihoon angst #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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ugly-pickle · 9 months

Text

wait!- ☆ scara

CHARACTERS: idol!scara x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: scara had always promised you that he will always love you and will always have time for you, but he never confirmed that hes a man of his word…

GENRE: angst 🦢 (comfort from another at the end)

W/C: 1.3k

C/W: cheating, moaning, hinting of intoxication, kissing, toxicity, and cussing (if theres anything that i missed let me know!)

A/N: a lot of people liked my previous post so it motivated me to make another! im still new at this so please keep that in mind if a few bits are off (IT’S REALLY REALLY REALLY CRINGY). most grammatical errors are also intentional!

your boyfriend, scara, has a performance today and youre really excited. you received flowers, theyre beautiful. maybe this is an apology for the lack of affection and being more grumpy towards you lately, i mean to be an idol certainly is tiring, isnt it? so it makes perfect sense why he’s acting like this… right?

as always, he gave you tickets to his concert. you couldnt get the chance to say goodbye to him because he left so early in the morning, so youll make it up to him when you meet him backstage.

you got dressed and headed out the door, youre excited to see your beloved scara preform, because he looked happy while doing his job, you were excited to see his smile because… well, he doesnt smile at you anymore… but you quickly brush it off, i mean, being an idol is very stressful.

youve arrived, you tried to enter backstage but some bodyguard stopped you, “hey! what do you think youre doing missy?” you sigh, he must be new, “scara is my lover, i just want to see him,” you try to explain but the bodyguard cuts you off and says “thats what they all say,” he rolls his eyes. “no! really, i am!” you show the bodyguard a picture of you and scara together kissing, “oh” the bodyguard grunts, “so youll let me in?” you look up at him, he looks a bit uncomfortable, “well uhm… ive been given specific orders to not let you in… im sorry,”

“w-what?...”

you heard him loud and clear, the world around you begins to spin, but you quickly ground yourself by comforting yourself with false hopes. maybe hes just planning a surprise for you back there, i mean, it might explain why you got flowers, yea! that must be the reason… you hope.

you found your spot, perfect timing too! the concert begins, you see scara. you melt when you see a smile on his lips, he looks so happy. the crowd screams, theyre chanting 5wirl (the name of their group). venti, xiao, kazuha, heizou, and scara is greeting the audience with warms smiles and kind words.

after a while, the performance ends, it was quite long actually, but it felt so short, time does fly when youre having fun. you head to the backstage doors, hoping that the bodyguard lets you in this time. as you make your way to the backstage doors you see scara’s back in your peripheral vision. hes in a secluded place, he looks like hes trying to be hidden from the crowd, makes sense. you decide to scare him, as you get closer you can see a beautiful lady’s lips pressed against scara’s. you hear the sounds of kissing and soft moaning coming from them.

your heart shatters into a million pieces, it broke so bad that you swore you heard it make a shattering sound. tears fall down your face, youre so stunned that you cant even form words, instead, a pathetic whimpering sound escapes your lips. scara turns around to see where the strange sound is coming from.

his eyes widen a bit, but he immediately regains his composure. “stop crying like a baby and get over it, youre just a nuisance in my life,” now scara was just stomping all over your already broken heart. these simple actions somehow drained all of your energy, just standing was exhausting, not wanting to waste time or energy you give him an “ok,” and you turn around and leave.

you arrive at your shared apartment and decide to eat and rest for a little, so when he comes back you can properly confront him. but, he comes back the next day, hes wasted and the smell of sex is clinging onto him. he walks past you and immediately collapses on the couch and knocks out cold.

when he finally wakes up, youre making dinner. he remembers the encounter from last night. his eyes wander, wanting to look at anything but you. something in the trashcan catches his eye, the flowers. theyre pretty but it didnt come from him.

youve finished cooking, you see scara sitting at the table. you sit down, and placed your meal in front of you and you start to eat. “…what about mine?” scara asks you with a quiet voice. “oh wow, youre initiating a conversation with the nuisance. well, if you must know, that having to take care of you is quite tiring and ive realized that youre quite troublesome and it would be better if you werent in my life. so, kunikuzushi, im breaking up with you.”

hes taken aback when you use his birth name, “h-hey y/n, i didnt mean what i said yesterday… i regret it, it was just the heat of the moment,” he says, his voice trembling a bit. you sigh, “that still doesnt change the fact that you cheated on me, pack your bags and leave, this is my apartment after all,”

his trembling demeanour quickly turned aggressive, “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH LOVE AND TIME IVE SPENT ON YOU?” you scoff, “WHAT LOVE? WHAT TIME? SURE, YOUVE PROMISED ME THESE THINGS BUT HAVE YOU EVER FULFILLED IT? EVER SINCE YOU BECAME AN IDOL, EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU CHANGED,”

the two of you are now yelling. “WELL, BEING AN IDOL IS TIRING, AND BEING BOUND TO ONLY YOU IS TIRING. ANEMO RESEMBLES FREEDOM, I CANT JUST BE BOUND TO YOU. A-AND SHE LOVES ME FOR WHO I AM” youre hurt, you stop yelling, “she loves you for who you are today, but will she when you have nothing?” “NO ONE LOVED ME WHEN I HAD NOTHING, WHEN I WAS NOTHING-“ “I FUCKING DID”

your voice begins to break, “i loved you when you had nothing, i was the one who helped you get back on your feet,” you sigh, hot tears now spilling down your face, “im gonna take a walk, and when i come back your things better be packed.” you leave the apartment, “you didnt even get to enjoy your meal,” he mumbles to himself. he begins to pack his things.

youre walking towards the park, youre tears making your cheeks glisten in the sunlight. you spot kazuha admiring the scenery, hes sitting down on a bench with a pen and notebook in hand, you assume he was making song lyrics or a haiku. you walk up to kazuha and wipe away your tears, “u-uhm hey kazu,” you sit down beside him. “oh hey y/n! nice seeing you here!” his voice is warm and comforting.

“im surprised that you arent swarmed by paparazzi yet,” you giggle, “me too, the quiet is very relaxing. my day has become better now that youre here. wheres scara?” you can feel your eyes watering up “we broke up… he cheated on me,” kazuha hugs you, patting your back, tears are now falling down your face. “you dont deserve that, you really dont, youre one of the most amazing people that i know.”

tip tap tip tap tip tap

you hear the sound of footsteps running, it’s probably someone jogging. kazuha tucks your hair behind your ear while looking you in the eyes.

“WAIT!-“

kazuha presses a gentle kiss on your forehead. you turn your head to see who had just called out, it was scara, he was standing there in shock, tears slipping down his face. “YOU BITCH KAZUHA,” scara yells at him. the bouquet of flowers you threw out earlier was now in his hands. “YOU LIKE Y/N, DONT YOU? YOU HAVE HER THESE FLOWERS, RIGHT?” scara scoffs, “and what if i do? theres no harm in having a crush, unlike cheating on your lover. and, i did give those flowers to her, so what?”

scara turns to you “b-baby you still love me right? a-and not this bastard, right?” his voice seems desperate, “kunikuzushi i-”

A/N: UHMM I LITERALLY HAD NO IDEA HOW TO END THIS- I AT LEAST TRIED LOL ┐༼ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°༽┌

(ngl i wanna make a part 2 because the ending was so messy ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º· )

TAGLIST @justaxiaosimp @mommykukki @xdrin @midnight-pluto @boomie-123 @scaramochies @dnsuhwr874y @hopefulceladon @yukinenikora @akusiapaakudimana @mai-yay @uhfhfhfhf

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #scara angst #genshin wanderer #wanderder #wanderer x reader #wanderer angst #wanderer #genshin scara #scaramouche #scaramouche angst #angst #idol scara #anemo

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digitaldiarystuff · 9 months

Text

Bad Liar Pt.2

note: hello, it’s me (read it in adele voice) thank you so much for the likes it makes me want to write more enjoyy

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summary: you are in a long time situationship with pedri and you’re falling more and more everyday hoping he feels the same

pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N

genre: pure angst

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You spent the night bawling your eyes out and hugging your best friend for some support. After a couple of hours your tears started drying and you ran a bath to collect your thoughts. Okay, let’s look at the facts, you’ve been around Pedri for months and never noticed a hint of a girlfriend. Sure you weren’t spending every hour of every day but he stayed at your place once or twice a week and you never even saw him pick a phone call with a girl, sometimes you noticed him focused on his phone brows furrowed answering some texts and yeah you thought maybe he was messing around with someone else but never had the courage to ask about it and honestly after a while, you started trusting him. Trusting him seemed like the biggest mistake you’ve ever done. You believed what you had was special and he was in this with you. What a fool you were.

After the shower you just put on some pajamas and went to lie on your bed but before you could even sit down your mind went back to the morning, how he was sleeping like an angel next to you in this bed. Tears were rolling from your eyes uncontrollably. Realizing you couldn’t bear to sleep there you decided to let your friend crash in your room and took the couch instead. She tried arguing but didn’t press too much. She knew you needed space. After some more crying you let sleep take over.

The morning after wasn’t any better, you woke up crying and picked up your phone to see if there was any notifications from him, you hated how weak you were over someone not worthy but you couldn’t be strong right now. The only thing that could heal you was him and he broke your heart to a million pieces. Just thinking about last night made your stomach turn and you ran to the bathroom to vomit, it was your body’s reaction to everything that happened over the last 12 hours, how turned upside down your life was.

He hadn’t texted you, not even a sorry or can we talk. It was like he forgot about you all together. You had a million questions. How long was this going on, did you mean anything to him, who was she, why did she post him last night, did she know about you?

Your friend’s first suggestion was to make him pay, share all his business with the whole world and destroy his quiet shy and kind guy image but she knew you’d never do that, even he’d know you wouldn’t. Then she said the next best action would be to ask him straight up, you could also ask the girl but you don’t think you can handle that confrontation. You’re too angry to do that.

“What should I even say?” you ask her desperately.

“Just say meet me at mine. Don’t make it obvious that you know.”

“What if she’s with her.”

“Oh I hope she’s with her.”

“No, what if he doesn’t respond or says no?”

“Then we go over there.” she answered nonchalantly and shrugged “What? Don’t you think he deserves it?”

“I do, I really do but I’m not confident enough for any big fight.”

“You have to do this or your inner thoughts will eat you up.” you knew she was right.

to PG: can you come to my house?

from PG: i can’t busy day

to PG: okay then just come tonight

from PG: busy again, i’ll tell you when i’m free

You were getting more upset by the second, he didn’t even respect to enough to have a decent conversation with you. He must know how you felt because you never hid it and still, he just didn’t care.

to PG: it’s either you come to me right now or i’ll come to yours to meet your girlfriend

from PG: be there in 30

So that’s how he wanted to play.

Soon after the text you hugged your friend goodbye and started waiting for him and even though you weren’t proud about this, you changed and applied some light makeup. You didn’t want him to see how he broke you. As soon as you heard the knock, you looked at yourself once more and opened it allowing him to come in. You were staring into his soul with a newly found bravery while he averted his eyes. He couldn’t even look at you.

“I’m gonna get some water, do you want anything?” he asked and you were shocked at how he tried to make this normal.

“Sit down Pedro.” he was shocked as you used his name, you’ve never called him Pedro but calling him Pedri wasn’t an option to you anymore.

He said nothing and plopped down on the couch.

“Talk.” you ordered.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You could start by explaining.”

“Look I’m sorry if you feel some type of way about it but honestly I don’t get why you’re this upset.” you just stared at him in shock. How could he try to minimize the situation?

“What do you mean you don’t understand. You have a girlfriend and I don’t even know for how long, you played me and you’re here trying to say it’s nothing. How can you be so calm right now?” you ask agitated.

“Y/N we both said we didn’t want commitment.”

“Yeah because you already had one, to your girlfriend!” you yelled.

“Pedro how could you keep this from me? If I had known I would’ve never been with you, you don’t love me that’s fine I can live with that but how can you sit there and disrespect your relationship disrespect me? Do you really don’t care at all? After we spent months together, after you confessed to me that I’m the only one you could confide in and trust fully and I shouldn’t have trusted you for a second. Don’t you see how wrecked I am, do you not care about me one bit?” you ask fully crying now. His nonchalance is far worse than anything you could imagine.

“Look, we’ve been on again off again for a year now and I never mentioned it to you because when I was with you, it was off and I didn’t want to talk about it.” he finally showed some emotion and it was annoyance but it’s better than nothing.

“You’re still lying to me. If you were on and off why were you in bed with me twice a week? Does your relationship end that quickly? You cheated on her with me and used me. I never asked to be a part of this, I even wanted to end things early on when I realized I had feelings for you but you didn’t accept it. You came to my door, asking for my forgiveness Pedro. You begged me to take you back and I have, if you really only used me why try to win me back, was it all a game? Did you have fun did you laugh at me?”

“No it wasn’t a game I just, I couldn’t lose you, I knew then and there I just couldn’t but I didn’t know how to explain it and the longer I waited the harder it got. I even tried to get you to leave me but I couldn’t leave you. She was away all the time and you became my rock and I got used to waking up next to you and being with you. Last night she came all of a sudden saying she’s moving here permanently and I just” he sighed and you could see tears forming in his eyes “I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry for everything.”

You looked at him and even though you were so heartbroken, you realized maybe this was the last time you got to speak to him.

“Last night I asked to meet up because I was ready to tell you how I felt, I was going to confess my feelings and ask you a question I was dying to ask.”

He looked up at you fidgeting with your fingers, having difficulty breathing.

“What was it?”

“I was going to ask you if you love me.” you whispered.

His gaze turned to his hands on his knees.

“I would’ve said yes.” his voice was so low you almost didn’t hear him.

“But you can’t today, can you?” you found the courage to look up at him again, already knowing the answer. His mind was made up, if he was going to break up with her, he could’ve done it yesterday but he didn’t. They were a happy, throughly messed up couple and you were nothing more than a side chick.

“I’m sorry.” he said while getting up. “I just, I never wanted to hurt you.” he came in front of you and kneeled down to hold eye contact.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry” he repeated again and again crying and tried holding your hands. You couldn’t even look at him because you would’ve held his hands and calmed him down. This is the first time he’s full on crying next to you and all you wanted to do is console him, be his anchor but you can’t.

“Please look at me.”

“I can’t, after knowing everything I can’t look at you.” you said. You gazed at your hands covered by his and tried your best to not break.

“What I said to you was never a lie, I never lied about my feelings to you.” he confessed.

“So I should believe you love me when you couldn’t even tell me you had a relationship. It can’t be true if you’re here telling me you’re going back to her. If you loved me just one bit, you’ll let me go Pedro. I can’t be in a situation where I’ve been lied to for months and can’t even trust you.” you said still not looking up.

“I understand.” he said not moving. He didn’t stand up just stood by your knees and held your hand as both of you cried some more.

“I think you should go”

He started getting up but sat next to you on the couch

“Can I hug you goodbye?” he asked in a childlike manner. You said nothing so he decided it was okay. You actually didn’t say anything because you needed his affection one last time. This was wrong but you needed him as much as he needed you. Pedri embraced you in his arms and you put your arms around his neck. You sat there entangled in each other for a few minutes until your mind screamed let go so you did but as he was backing up he held your tear stained cheeks and pressed his lips against yours for the last time and you let him. You couldn’t fight it, you just enjoyed his lips on yours and after that he was gone.

Pedri will always be your the one that got away.

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note: omg i’m gonna cry at how sad it happened but this relationship is nowhere near ending so if you’re interested please share with me your thoughts and opinions about the story luvs

ALSO, should this story have a good or a bad ending i’m so conflicted please helpp

#football #football imagine #football oneshot #football x you #football x y/n #football x reader #football blurb #football angst #pedri gonzalez #pedri angst #pedri blurb #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri one shot #football one shot #fc barcelona

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purple-plum-petals · 6 months

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⊱ Star Rail Men and What They Smell Like ⊰ || Multiple Character Headcanons

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Character(s): Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Veritas Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard Landau, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Sampo Koski, Sunday, Welt Yang (Honkai Star Rail) Warning(s): Nothing! Genre: Headcanons Word Count: ~560 words Author’s Note: I’ve been really into Honkai Star Rail lately and, since I will be writing for the fandom from here on out, I thought my first post for it would just be some simple headcanons on what some of the characters smell like! I tried to keep what I think the characters would smell like as canon-compliant as possible; I also wanted to do this since it may be helpful for me to reference in the future when I write for them haha. It’s nothing too complex as I haven’t had the time for that as of late, but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless! Also, this was written pre-release of Aventurine, Boothill, and Sunday, but I don’t think their releases will change these headcanons.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡

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Argenti: He smells like a freshly plucked bouquet of roses and honey with an underlying scent of iron because of his armor. Everywhere he goes, he leaves behind a floral scent with a tinge of sweetness.

Aventurine: Aventurine smells like a very expensive and very strong cologne – a cologne that is almost a bit too overpowering with how much of it he puts on.

Blade: Sorry Blade lovers, but this man probably smells like a mixture of sweat and blood. However, I’ll be nice and say he has the soft and somewhat sweet scent of spider lilies on his clothing and in his hair.

Boothill: Metal, oil, and gunpowder – I imagine him smelling very much like a mechanic’s workshop. He smells like how a lot of men’s bodywashes are advertised to be.

Caelus: Trash… Honestly, though, I can’t really see (or rather smell) Caelus having any kind of specific scent to him. He probably just smells like a natural musk or perhaps even a mixture of the rest of the Astral Express Crew’s scents, all of them intermingling in a very faint and very all-over-the-place cocktail of smells.

Dan Heng: Dan Heng smells kind of like the pages of an old book and a crisp, refreshing ocean breeze. He smells very relaxing and somewhat nostalgic, and his scent is very calming to be surrounded by.

Veritas Ratio: Ratio smells like unscented soap, so he has a very clean and fresh scent to him at all times considering how much he bathes. I also like to think he smells a bit like chalk with how much of it he carries around.

Gallagher: Smells like a mixture of alcohol and natural musk with a tinge of smokiness. He works at a bar and, considering he carries around a lighter, I imagine him to be a smoker as well.

Gepard: Gepard wears a very light and very basic cologne, so nothing too overpowering or statement-making; it does smell a bit generic, though. I also think he would have a slight scent of iron to him as well due to his armor.

Jing Yuan: Smells like a fresh cup of fruity green tea with a weak node of mint. Jing Yuan is a fairly lazy man who doesn’t put in much effort where it isn’t needed, but I think he would enjoy aromatherapy so he likes wearing perfumes and colognes that he thoroughly enjoys.

Luocha: I think Luocha would smell somewhat earthy with nodes of floral and wood-like scents. I also think he would carry around the smell of death, but not necessarily a bad one; he smells more akin to a funeral home.

Sampo: Much like Caelus, I don’t think Sampo would smell like much of anything. He sneaks around quite a bit and probably wouldn’t want his scent alerting anyone, so he has a natural smell to him with a light underlying node of pine.

Sunday: Has a very faint scent of lavender to him that could be easily missed if not around him for long. I imagine he isn’t fond of strong scents, so he usually picks something that makes him smell pleasing without being too overwhelming for himself or others.

Welt: I imagine Welt smelling like a strong, freshly brewed cup of coffee with nodes of citrus or vanilla. The underlying scent is never enough to overpower the smell of coffee he has on him, though.

#🌸 . Plum Writes #honkai star rail #hsr #star rail headcanons #hsr headcanons #argenti #aventurine #blade #boothill #caelus #dan heng #veritas ratio #gallagher #gepard landau #jing yuan #luocha #sampo koski #sunday #welt yang

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devildomsoup · 1 year

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I was reading your "Silly little headcannons" and saw that you said that Barbatos "Will cradle MC like a little baby when he is stressed or just missed them." Which, for one, is so adorable I love that so much!!! If you haven't already, if you could just do a short fluffy fic with that scenario I would be delighted! 🥰 Thank you very much for hearing me out!

Hold Me Close to Your Heart

Genre: Fluff

Character: Barbatos

MC: gender neutral they/them

Type: Oneshot

A/N I wanted to post this way sooner than this but exams are sadly occupying a lot of my time right now.

Barbatos was not having a good day. So far it had actually been nothing but awful.

It started with one of the Little. Ds breaking an expensive vase. Then it turned out that the spices Barbatos had ordered would be delayed. On top of that, someone had decided to eat all the treats for an upcoming meeting. To make it all worse they were all out of sugar because a Little. D dropped the container with it. The sugar was all over the floor which meant that not only did Barbatos need to head out and buy new sugar he also had to clean the entire kitchen floor.

His shopping trip was also awful.

For some reason, the entire Devildom had decided that they needed to go grocery shopping that day. The checkout line was stupidly wrong and there were at least 5 demons who tried to skip the line. When Barbatos finally got out of the store it started to rain and because of all the bags, he was crying he couldn’t hold an umbrella resulting in him coming home soaking wet.

But the worst thing had to be what happened at the castle while he was away.

Solomon had somehow managed to get into the castle's kitchen and decided to cook one of his abominations. Making yet another mess for Barbatos to clean up.

It was safe to say that Barbatos was feeling just a little bit stressed. But the stoic demon of course did not show it. Not even a slightly furrowed eyebrow could be seen on his face. But on the inside, he was screaming bloody murder. Sadly, he could not do much else than clean the mess, change his clothes and continue fulfilling his duties.

Evening came and so did more trouble. The universe just did not want Barbatos to have it easy.

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he placed the last fork in the drawer where it belonged. He was more than happy with the day coming to an end. Barbatos rubbed his temples, turned off the lights and walked out of the kitchen. As Barbatos made his way through the many halls of the castle he came across his Young Master.

"Good evening Young Master.”

“Good evening Barbatos it seems like you have a guest waiting at the pavilion.”

That was strange, he was not exciting anyone, but Barbatos made his way to the garden where the pavilion was, nonetheless. The halls were eerily quiet and the only sound you could hear was the quiet clicks of Barbatos’ shoes. As he reached the garden, he could not help but wonder who this so-called guest was. Had he really forgotten something so important as a guest visiting? Surely that could not be true.

Arriving at the pavilion Barbatos stopped dead in his tracks as he saw someone he did not expect. Sitting there was MC. No wonder he could not recall having gusts, MC had never said they were going to be here.

“Surprise,” MC said sheepishly, not quite sure how to interpret Barbatos.

“Uhm… Luke and I made too many cookies, so I thought I would drop by and give some to you and Diavolo. When I arrived Diavolo grabbed a bunch of cookies for himself and then told me to wait here,” MC explained, gesturing towards the box of decorated cookies beside them.

Barbatos quietly walked over to MC and sat down beside them.

“Hope I didn’t arrive at a bad time. I can leave if it is,” MC spoke, still unsure of what Barbatos’ actions meant.

Barbatos did not say anything, instead, he just pulled Mc onto his lap and warped his arms around them holding them close to his chest.

"Barbatos?”

“My apologies. That was unbecoming of me to do,” Barbatos responded, starting to let go of MC.

“It’s okay.”

After hearing that Barbatos tightened his grip, he pulled MC closer to his chest. Nothing in the 3 realms could make him let go of them now. This was all he needed right now. Everything else was unimportant; the only thing that mattered was MC. Barbatos removed his gloves so he could enjoy the warm feeling of MC’s skin better. There was something so comforting about the warmth of a human. Sure, some demons were warmer than a volcano but the earth from a human was special. Even when Mc was cold their body still emitted a certain warmth. Maybe that warmth was just the feeling of comfort that spread through Barbatos’ body whenever he got to hold MC.

A small evening breeze travelled through Barbatos’ hair making MC tuck a few stray strands behind his ear. It was strange Barbatos always made sure to keep his composure yet when it was just him and MC, he lost it. The face that usually only wore a service smile or a neutral expression was now filled with our adoration and joy. The eyes that were usually cold and calculating were now looking ever so gently at MC like they were the most prized jewel in all of the 3 realms.

How Barbatos had longed for this moment. Always thinking of how nice it would be to simply wrap his arms around MC and hold them close. After having such an awful day there really was nothing better than that.

Looking at MC he noticed how their eyes were beginning to close and before Barbtost knew it Mc had drifted off to sleep in his arms. Barbtos did not mind at all. It meant they felt comfortable enough in his arms to lower their guard.

“Sleep tight, you are safe in my arms.”

#obey me gn!reader #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me writing #obey me oneshot #obey me barbatos #obey me gn!mc #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me requests

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softxsuki · 11 months

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Urgent req!

I've been breaking down lately because of the urge to cvt myself . Those breakdowns usually end up with me hitting and punching myself or my walls. I've been clean for idk how long yet but was wondering if you could do a fic with Mikey and Drake related to it. Thanks !

Love your gifs btw:))

Mikey and Draken (Separate) Comfort Reader Who Has A Breakdown

Pairings: Mikey x Gn!Reader, Draken x Gn!Reader

Warnings: mentions of self harm, bloody knuckles, punching walls, punching yourself

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 480

Summary: In which Mikey and Draken comfort you after seeing you breakdown

[A/N: Sorry for writing this so late, October was such a busy month for me. The Holiday season is so hectic BJFEA. I'm also struggling with writers block which is probably evident in my writing, but if you're still around, I hope this helps a bit :)]

Mikey:

Mikey knows first hand what it feels like to be in a bad place mentally

After all he’s lost so many precious people in his life, leaving him feeling empty

Until he met you, you were his second chance at life, and he really would do anything to keep you safe

He knows about your history with self harm and was very worried at first, scared that you’d do it again and leave him just like everyone else

But he saw how well you were doing and was proud of how far you’d come being clean

Though when you fall into those urges again, leading you to breakdown, he’s by your side

Bloody knuckles and bruises on your own body have him beyond scared, but he tries to stay calm to be he there for you

“Hit me instead if you feel that way, please. I don’t want to see you hurt, especially about something that I have no control over. Just take it out on me, I can handle it”

He’s desperate to take the inner turmoil away from you, he’d face it all if it meant you could feel better

Becomes extra clingy in the next few days until those urges cease, but just let him do his thing, he’s worried he’ll lose you, Mikey will be back to normal eventually

Everything he does, despite how suffocating it may feel at first, comes from a place of love and care for you, he’d do anything, and I mean anything to help you feel better, just tell him how he can help

Draken:

Draken catches you mid-wall punch and grabs your wrist to stop you from hitting the wall any longer, a pained expression on his face at the state of your knuckles

“That’s not how we deal with things,” He says stoically, millions of thoughts going through his mind, picking through what would be the best thing to say to you now

When it comes to you, he’s hesitant with his words even though he’s usually great with his advice, he’s scared he’ll say the wrong thing when it comes to you so he doesn’t verbally express himself often

Instead he sticks to silently wrapping up your wounds, eyebrows furrowed in concentration–he’s not mad at you, just concerned and wondering how he can help

He knows about your past and considering your actions, he assumes you’re probably struggling again, so he just hugs you

“Don’t struggle alone, come to me first before acting on your own like this, please”

He keeps an eye on you and tries to bring you around with him whenever he has to go out, in an attempt to distract you until he can help you get rid of those urges

Draken manages to stay calm and collected though which is very helpful, so I’m sure you’d feel comfortable coming to him about anything after that

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :)

Posted: 11/5/2023

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arceespinkgun · 4 months

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The Sci-Fi Racism of MTMTE/LL

As I've reread MTMTE/LL I've been struck by the offensive content and messaging, particularly the constant ableism and racism. The ableism I've seen discussed (though I really do think it needs to be mentioned more because wow it is relentless and does not get better throughout the story), but the racist themes don't seem to be mentioned quite as often. I think this is for a lot of reasons, and one is probably that the cast being robots is sort of obscuring connections to real-world marginalized peoples.

But one of the most meaningful purposes for the sci-fi genre in general is to explore these issues through symbolism and allegory, placing real-world people in speculative scenarios, theorizing about the future etc. And I think when you look at what MTMTE/LL is saying about race with its themes it's a lot of extremely negative stuff—I doubt the messaging is intentional, but in my opinion that kinda makes it even more important to talk about it....

The Cold-Constructed

I'm going to begin this post by giving context for people who don't know anything about this story. In these series, it often comes up that there's more than one way for a transformer to be created. The main ways are forging, when the planet itself imbues the malleable metal of a protoform with a spark, and cold-construction, when an existing spark is split, put inside a photonic crystal, and put into a body that's pre-built. There's a lot of bigotry surrounding these origins for transformers, which is a clear parallel to real-world racism. I mean, you can see the word "apartheid" being used to describe the treatment of the cold-constructed, and the use of a slur for that group ("knockoffs") in the panel at the beginning of this post.

It's a commonly held belief that being forged is just better and being cold-constructed is just worse, that someone who's cold-constructed is just more likely to be morally bad, less able to do precise work, and more disposable than the forged. For example, at the beginning of MTMTE, Ratchet is worried about his hands locking up because he doesn't think they can be replaced by building new ones, that only forged hands are good enough for a great doctor.

There's a lot of internalized ableism that can be read into this too but this post is already so long I'm going to just focus on racism

The big end-of-the-season villain of MTMTE is Tyrest, the former Autobot Chief Justice turned neutral, who was the one who created the cold-construction process, and who also created a computer he thought could determine anyone's guilt. He used the computer during war crime trials he presided over, and discovered 100% of defendants who were declared guilty had been cold-constructed. Breaking from the guilt he felt, thinking he'd created an immoral, inferior race, he tries to kill all cold-constructed people.

Thwarting Tyrest's plot to kill the cold-constructed was the final battle of the first season of MTMTE.

The cold-constructed person letting the heroes know about Tyrest's plan in the panel right above this is Getaway. He is also an MTO. MTOs ("made-to-order soldiers") are an even lower class within the lower class that is cold-constructed. MTOs, as you'd expect, were bots built specifically as wartime fodder, sent out into the battlefield with a life expectancy in the range of seconds, often before their bodies and minds were even functional. As the war between Autobots and Decepticons raged on, they were even imbued with less and less cultural knowledge, because in the minds of their creators, what did it matter if they were going to immediately be killed anyway? Brainstorm's an MTO, too—in the panel at the start of this post, he's lying about attending protests in the name of the cold-constructed. He's masquerading as an ally there, but it's revealed soon after that he's also cold-constructed himself.

Let's pause for a moment. Assuming you know nothing about MTMTE/LL, what do you think the story would depict when it comes to this oppressed race? I feel like I would expect that the beliefs of the main characters that these people are inferior and immoral would be challenged! I'd expect the cold-constructed and MTOs especially to be saving the day. I'd expect an exploration into why 100% of bots found guilty in those trials were of this marginalized group—a discussion of a prison pipeline that benefits the privileged, maybe? Signs that the computer used was biased because it was created by someone privileged and programmed with biases? Maybe a discussion of how the oppressed were pushed to commit crimes to survive because of the systems keeping them marginalized?

Do these things happen? Er... well... not really, no. Shockingly, Tyrest's assumptions are never challenged despite his villain status and a lot of time being devoted to thwarting his plot? And the people who defeat him, like Tailgate, Rodimus, and Magnus, were all forged. Tyrest was Magnus's former boss and mentor, and Magnus realizing he needs to be stopped is super important, but Magnus never challenges any of these beliefs about the cold-constructed or anything even though Magnus's entire personality involves being super focused on ethics?

I also think it's notable that when Tyrest activates the killswitch, the only characters from the main cast who are affected are Chromedome, Brainstorm, and Getaway. Chromedome and Brainstorm are Autobots who worked together in a system that forcibly lobotomized thousands of people. (There's a lot I could say about the minor and other characters JRo chose to be affected by the killswitch, like how many of them are evil and how they're all treated by different narratives, but that's beyond the scope of this post.)

Getaway, while not having done anything immoral yet by this point in the story, goes on to become a central villain. In fact, Getaway is one of the most despised characters in the entire TF franchise because of how depraved and manipulative he becomes. His arc involves a self-righteous crusade to remove Rodimus and Megatron from the Lost Light and show up Rodimus by completing his quest before him. Getaway is a self-admitted groomer and murderer who does things like murdering his second-in-command by ripping him apart, tearing his head off with the spine still attached and getting energon all over the floor. Oh, and brainwashing hundreds of people.

Pictured: the brain stems of crew members Getaway kills in just one of his many crimes

When Getaway's eventually gruesomely killed, it's all forged people who come to confront him (Rodimus, Cyclonus, and Whirl). I think fans might say that this couldn't be racist messaging because Rodimus comes to think better of killing Getaway and tries to save him, but then Getaway still tries to kill Rodimus and Cyclonus and is killed by Whirl for that... but like, imagine if these characters weren't robots and were instead real people. If the horrible villain was someone from a marginalized group (who had even been tortured for it by a genocidal villain) and all the people who confront him and the person who eventually kill him were people from a privileged group, there would be issues with that. Plus, Rodimus saved Getaway to be "better" than him morally.

I "loved" how right before Getaway's attempted suicide and then actual death, the narrative makes sure to underline that he's an MTO, which makes it impossible to not think about MTOs during this scene

Plus, Getaway's even something like a class traitor. He wants to be validated by Primus so bad, he teams up with Tyrest, the genocidal guy who had tortured him earlier!!! I thought this was a bizarre series of writing decisions to make regarding a character who was introduced as a victim and part of an oppressed group.

One moment that shocked me occurs when we get the first exploration of what being an MTO means. Basically, there's some convoluted sci-fi crisis happening, and everybody needs to reveal their origins. Some characters, like Getaway and Riptide, talk about being MTOs.

Nautica, a very consistent moral voice throughout this story (whose points are often ignored by other characters unfortunately but still), is also in the room. She's from Caminus, a colony world, and missed the whole War. A large part of her story arc will involve how she's not used to experiencing war and death. So does she have some big concerns about Cybertron's culture upon hearing this? Nope:

She would not fucking say that

Instead, her reaction is to immediately look at the guy who started the War, Megatron, and credit him for being responsible for so many lives. What. She's also weirdly not fazed when learning about how the superiors of MTOs eventually just stopped supplying them with cultural knowledge because it was expected they'd immediately die after coming online, and these horrible facts are really not discussed again:

I also want to point out that Riptide is a good character who's an MTO who in my opinion really doesn't do anything immoral, but he was still aligned with Getaway's mutiny initially and is quite literally diagnosed with stupid, which doesn't do a lot to challenge prevailing assumptions about MTOs in Cybertronian culture.

Brainstorm's status as an MTO becomes a plot point again during his character arc, in which he invents time travel and tries to go back in time to prevent the War in order to save everyone who died during it. When he sees that it seems like nothing he does is preventing the War, he resorts to trying to kill Megatron, but he's easily talked out of it because he doesn't want to murder anyone.

On paper, it sounds like Brainstorm's goodness might disprove cultural assumptions about people like him. But I do want to point out that when Nautica (who again, is a strong moral voice) feels very betrayed by all the secrets Brainstorm kept from her, Ratchet convinces her to give him a second chance by pointing out that since Brainstorm's an MTO, if he'd prevented the War, he'd have been erased from existence. This is portrayed as a selfless, moral act, and not as a self-destructive cry for help, which I think is a poor choice, but worse, the narrative never even brings up the fact that Brainstorm would've not only erased himself, but all MTOs!

Okay, if bigoted assumptions about the morality and mentality of MTOs isn't something effectively challenged by the story, well, are the claims that forged people are physically more skilled ever challenged? Not really, no. Genuinely, I don't think that ever comes up. Megatron does perform a spark surgery somehow better than actual trained doctors First Aid and Velocity could do near the story's end, but Megatron's someone who was neither forged nor cold-constructed. He has a forged spark in a pre-built body, which given that bigoted assumptions about the cold-constructed are never really addressed by the narrative, lends itself to jokes like, "The cold-constructed body killed 100 billion people, but the forged spark was super sad about it!"

Rodimus describes Megatron's origin

EDITED TO ADD: There is also a skilled cold-constructed Decepticon neurosurgeon, Spinister... but the way other characters, even his closest friends, consistently treat him is that he is an idiot in every other respect in a way that feels very ableist. It's similar to the way Riptide is treated and his portrayal falls short of challenging the stereotypes, but even more extreme (personally, nothing Spinister ever did or said actually came across as stupid to me, but I'm fairly certain that his actions are supposed to seem that way).

Organic Life

Surprisingly given that this is a story about transformers, I actually think some of the most racist messaging in these series has to do with organic beings, not even with the robots! Some of the most shockingly racist moments, at least.

Something that's often discussed in MTMTE/LL is a concept called "technoism," the belief that mechanical beings are superior to organic ones, and that mechanical beings should commit genocide against organic species. This is a belief tied to Decepticons, and Megatron was the first big proponent of this idea. In fact, Megatron is stated to have killed 100 billion (!!!) organics, including driving multiple species to extinction.

Tarn (evil leader of the Decepticon Justice Division) recounts Megatron's desire to purge all organic life

Now, I feel like people who've read this story might be surprised to see that I feel this concept was handled in ways that promote racist messaging, considering the story repeatedly points out that technoism is bad and that Megatron was wrong. Some portion of Megatron's character development involves instead choosing to save organic life.

Unfortunately, I really felt this was extremely clumsily handled. A major Decepticon character who remains a Decepticon, Fulcrum, is especially disgusted by organic life. In one of the most shocking moments in this entire story, Fulcrum basically tells Tarn, "Life was so much better back when we Decepticons did ethnic cleansing, before mean bullies like you ruined it":

The shocking thing to me is that this is portrayed as a... noble act, I suppose I could put it? Everything is framed as if Fulcrum is doing something heroic in this moment. Disconcertingly, after this moment, Fulcrum is repeatedly used by the narrative as a sort of moral voice when talking to his fellow Decepticons. Whenever they're doing something unethical, he's almost always the first to speak against it. Yeah, ethnic cleansing guy, pre-any character development, is used as a moral compass.

Now, if his belief that organics are inferior and disgusting and deserve to die was challenged and he grew, that would be one thing. But he still finds them just as gross by the end of the entire story.

Similarly, another Decepticon who gets to team up with the heroes and get a happy ending is Nickel, herself a former member of the Decepticon Justice Division, and a strong believer in technoism. She joined the DJD to get revenge against organics who destroyed the colony she comes from. Even by the end of the story, it's clear that she despises organic life.

The very strange thing is that Nickel and Fulcrum are never shown to change these philosophies, but then join the fight against functionists who want to cleanse the universe of non-mechanical life... but there's nothing ever shown to indicate that they wouldn't agree with that plan themselves...?

Another moment that displays issues with how this story handles these concepts is a little interlude with the organic-operated Galactic Council:

On the surface, not much is happening, but this is one of my most hated moments. Why? Because the implication is that organic life, this group of beings that Megatron committed staggering, multiple genocides against, is now preventing his character growth journey. That the narrative's taking time to dedicating a whole scene to showing oh, organics can be bad and extort people too! There's "moral complexity" here!!! I really hope I don't need to explain why that's gross and extremely dangerous to apply as a lesson to any sort of real-world situation.

Other

There are other details in this series that feel racist that wouldn't necessarily fit into the other sections of this post.

I wanted to talk about Ten. Ten is a legislator, a non-transformer robot originally programmed by Tyrest to be a non-sentient law enforcer. However, after Tyrest's defeat, Swerve reprograms Ten to be his... well... slave. I mean it, Swerve makes him a worker at the bar who Swerve doesn't pay. Other people like Ratchet and Ultra Magnus try to convince Swerve he shouldn't treat Ten like this, but that isn't enough to get Swerve to stop.

Worse, Whirl etches graffiti onto Ten's back saying he "failed the Ambus Test," which is a test that measures sapience in-universe.

Now, eventually Swerve and everybody else does accept that Ten is sapient and Swerve feels bad about what he did to him, but Ten continues to be treated badly in general by people like Rodimus.

When Ten later dies, no time is spent mourning him. Also, nobody ever removed that damn statement that was etched on his back.

I also wanted to mention Drift. He was originally created by writer Shane McCarthy in the IDW comics before these series, and he's heavily Asian-coded, particularly Japanese-coded. Unfortunately, Drift was considered a real Poochie the Dog of TF for a long time by fans, a real Mary Sue, you could say, and it wasn't until MTMTE/LL when James Roberts began writing him that his reputation changed for the better.

...Unfortunately, included in JRo's new direction for Drift's character is repeated mocking of his spirituality. This does get slightly less extreme over time, but that doesn't erase how for the entire first season especially he's made the butt of jokes for it, and the end of MTMTE/LL even confirms that his beliefs were wrong, essentially. It confirms that the gods he believed in both didn't exist and were heavily morally compromised. Combine this with the fact that Drift is so Asian-coded and I feel that it comes across as racist.

Worse, while Drift already had a backstory, JRo wrote a new one for him that can be read to play into offensive, Orientalist stereotypes. JRo shows that Drift was originally a drug addict who earned money by renting out his body parts, an act that feels like a robot equivalent of prostitution. JRo even made jokes about this on his Twitter account, joking about Drift literally renting out his "thighs" for people.

None of this surprises me necessarily especially given the long history of English Orientalism, but it still sucks, and fandom's fixation on this aspect of Drift's character also sucks (especially the tendency to make this prostitution allegory literal), especially for someone like me who is part Asian.

Another, pretty bizarre and racist thing in Lost Light specifically that I don't really know how to categorize involves a minor villain from that series. When Nautica wants to bring her best friend, Skids, back from the dead, she goes to someone who claims she'll take Nautica's grief in return for using a Cybertronian artifact to bring Skids back to life.

This villainous character's name is... sigh... Mengel. If you don't know, Mengel is named after real-world Nazi Josef Mengele, infamous for the horrific human experimentation he performed on prisoners in one of the Auschwitz concentration camps. As if this weren't in bad taste already, none of the real-world crimes against humanity have anything to do with the character in this comic I'm talking about—the character Mengel was named this just for shock value and so readers would have the immediate realization that she's an evil scientist.

But this really bad taste isn't even the main thing I wanted to say about her. The main thing I wanted to point out is that she's actually part of a different race of mechanical beings that Cybertronians consider inferior. Even the generally very morally good Nautica (and of course, this is a belief that is not challenged in any way)!

Plus, this villain has darker "skin" than most of the transformers present in these series, and she has buck teeth with a tooth gap. All of these details combined other her in a racialized way, and I hope it's obvious how disturbing it is to pair these traits with the name of a real-world virulently racist Nazi historical figure.

Conclusion and TL;DR

In this story, it's not enough that a genocidal person like Tyrest is a bad guy or that the genocidal Megatron changes his ways when even the characters often cast as moral voices in most situations like Ratchet, Nautica, and Fulcrum have racist assumptions about the world that the narrative just doesn't really make any attempt to disprove or challenge them on. Or worse, that the narrative sometimes seems to validate with characters like Getaway, (sigh) Mengel, or the Galactic Council. And on a personal note, it's especially frustrating to me as someone who loves characters like Nautica. If she appears a surprising number of times in this post, it's because I'm attentive to her and how the story uses her, because I really like her!!!

Now, obviously, I don't think that stories have to address and defy all bigoted ideas and statements that inform the culture they're set in. But I believe that the people behind these series think the messages of these series are anti-racist and anti-fascist. In fact, one of the issues was even titled "This machine kills fascists," real-world slogan of singer Woodie Guthrie. Plus, I think it might be easy to think that with so much representation of, say, gay and trans people, that this story would have more positive messaging, especially when villains include racists and fascists. But I think MTMTE/LL show a real lack of understanding of the roots of these real-world issues and often reinforce the beliefs that contribute to them. In fact, when I reread these comics, every time some racist idea that's never ever challenged or adequately discussed came up, I tallied it up, then converted the number to dollars and donated the amount to helping displaced Palestinian children. I would love it if I could inspire some fans to donate as well! There’s a wide range of vetted links here.

I'm being so critical of these series not only because I rarely ever see the racism pointed out, but also because it's important to note it so these issues can be avoided in the future. In these comics, I actually think it would have been very easy to avoid these problems that plague the narrative. The bigotry behind Tyrest's philosophy could've been pointed out, maybe even by the people most affected by it. Drift's new backstory didn't have to be one featuring Orientalist tropes. The central villain didn't have to be someone who was a marginalized victim. Characters like Fulcrum didn't have to be portrayed as moral voices while simultaneously in the same breath talking about ethnic cleansing like it's a good thing, and they could have grown and changed in a natural way! etc. None of these things had to be like this.

#transformers idw #maccadam #my analysis #racism #negative #there's so much more but I didn't want this to be even longer than it is #long post #like really long

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