#i hope they stay in the store for a while so i can get something else later
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
darlingdaisyfarm · 3 days ago
Note
r you still open for requests? if so and if you havent done this, stan twins taking care of reader on their period? im on my period rn and i lowkey am craving for it,, /nf!!
❥ Stan & Ford taking care of you on your period headcanons <3
a/n: oh anon this one's for you and for everyone dealing with the struggle right now <333 may ur cramps be mild 🙏
STANLEY
Tumblr media
★ “what do you mean you feel like garbage?? you were fine an hour ago! what happened?? who do I have to fight??” and when you explain, he just. OH. THAT.
★ “okay, okay, don’t freak out, but,” he digs around in some closet and pulls out a very old hot water bottle. “this thing got me through some rough winters. i hope this will, uh. . . stop the angry uterus thing.”
★ if anyone (Soos, Dipper, some poor clueless tourist) makes a dumb joke about “mood swings,” Stan will protect you. “oh, you think that’s funny? let’s see how funny it is when I lock you in the Mystery Shack bathroom for a week with no toilet paper!”
★ will not let you lift a finger. so worried about your state he physically shoves you back down if you try to do anything. “nope. nope, nuh-uh, baby, don’t even think about it.”
★ if you're dying from pain and nothing helps, he just holds you close while dramatically saying “oh sweetheart, if only nature was FAIR, it’d be me bleeding instead! why this world is so unfair????”
★ of course he buys you snacks. SO MANY SNACKS. he heard somewhere that chocolate helps, so now he’s bought four different brands of cheap chocolate bars from the gas station
“uh, i got these. one of ‘em’s gotta be the magic one, right?”
★ “old man Mcgucket says bark tea fixes everything. should we. . . should we try bark tea?”
★ once Stanley pulled out a beer and immediately regretted it. “. . . wait, no, that’s for me.”
★ ofc he cooks for you. he’s a big believer that food fixes all things, even if he doesn’t understand the science of it. makes you the heartiest, greasiest, most filling meal he can. you might not even want it but it’s the intent. it's the love. (and if you actually ask for something? he’ll make it with no hesitation)
★ you look even slightly like you’re in pain?? immediate concern. hunched over? “alright, that’s it, you’re going on the couch.” he literally herds you over with his hands on your shoulders, forces you to get comfortable. “c'mon, c'mon, up ya go. feet up. blanket on. there ya go.”
★ lovingly teases you when you cry over dumb stuff, but only a little. “you're cryin’ over a commercial? sweetie, c’mon.” wipes your tears anyway. kisses your forehead after.
★ grocery store trip. Stanley standing in the feminine hygiene aisle, he calls you from the store like, “baby, what the hell is ultra-thin? why are there WINGS on these? you gonna fly away or somethin’? :(”
★ i have a feeling he'll get the wrong ones. Stan comes home proud of himself only for you to be like Stan these are panty liners. he’s FLABBERGASTED. “they were in the same aisle!! they had the same stupid pink packaging!!”
★ eventually, he settles into his caretaking mode, ruffles your hair, makes bad jokes to make you laugh even when you feel awful. if you get emotional from the hormones he panics a little but ultimately just lets you cry on his shoulder and pats your back
★ mutters “alright, where’s it hurt, lemme at it.” then massages your lower back, rubs your stomach clumsily but gently. Stan is determined to physically get rid of your pain somehow even if that’s not how it works
★ makes you rest by putting on a movie and forcing you to stay put. he picks the weirdest mix of old action flicks, crime shows and one sappy romance he swears he doesn’t like. (he totally does.)
★ if you’re in pain he's gonna fix it. but since he can’t punch your uterus, he does the next best thing. distracts the hell outta you. "alright, sweetheart, what’s it gonna be? poker? tall tales? let's watch duck detective?”
you giggle. “Stan, just cuddle me.”
“oh, yeah, you got it, c’mere.” immediately pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his big arms around you, rocking his most precious thing in the world.
★ if you're up at 2 AM, restless from cramps, Stan notices immediately “owwh, doll, let’s getcha comfy.” guides you to the couch, sets you up with a blanket, turns on some quiet late-night TV. he stays up with you, spending sleepless night taking care of you. he sits there, rubbing your back, making sure you’re okay
in some hours more though, he falls asleep next to you, head leaning against yours
STANFORD
Tumblr media
★ HE KNOWS BEFORE YOU DO. this man has studied interdimensional quantum phenomena. you think he hasn’t mapped out your cycle like a scientist mapping the tides???? PLEASE
“sweetheart, shouldn’t you be starting your period soon?”
“what? no?? I feel fine“ and twenty minutes later, you’re in pain
“ah. as I suspected.” Ford says
★ literally tracks it like a researcher. has a whole-ass journal with little notes. estimates symptoms, cravings, moods. he says it's because “I want to be prepared for you”.
you catch him writing in it one day. “Ford, what is that?”
he looks guilty and awkward. “a. . . documentation of your menstrual cycle?”
you take it, open it and your eyes widen. it got a whole-ass formula for predicting your moods
“wtf Ford, you made a menstrual algorithm??”
he rubs the back of his neck. “well, i wanted to ensure that i could be fully prepared for any and all symptoms—“
you’re just staring at the notes, not even listening to him. “did you seriously track that I crave sour candy more than chocolate???”
Ford pushes up his glasses. “i prefer to call it an empirical observation, yes.” next thing you do is kiss him senseless, because this nerd is the most devoted man on the planet
★ i assure you, he's already stocked up. you go to grab something and oh . . . heating pad? already plugged in. pain meds? already out on the counter. ur favorite snacks? somehow already bought. tea? brewing
★ of course! of course you'll get his lectures about periods. “did you know that menstrual cramps are caused by the uterus contracting due to prostaglandins? i read a fascinating study on ways to mitigate the pain—“ but let me tell you, he’s rambling because he’s nervous about you hurting. also because he thinks knowledge = comfort
★ his gentle hands, always. adjusting your blanket. rubbing slow circles into your back. fingertips ghosting over your forehead to check if you’re feverish
★ absolutely 100%, without a doubt, Ford takes notes on what helps you. if you ever say something like “ugh, this tea actually helps a lot” he writes that down. if you offhandedly mention “i think dark chocolate makes it better” he’s buying you ten bars of it next time.
★ he tries to keep you distracted. puts on old sci-fi movies and nerds out over them. reads aloud from a book if you want because he knows you love his voice
“did I ever tell you about the time I discovered a species that only reproduces once every ten years?” he just TALKS to you. calmly. thoughtfully. lets his voice carry you away from the pain.
★ he will stay up with you if you can’t sleep. even if he’s exhausted, even if he has research to do. if you’re in pain, he’s right there. “sleep, darling. I’ll stay up for a while. you need to rest.” strokes your hair until you do and presses a kiss to your temple when you finally drift off.
★ Ford can’t stand inefficiency. the first time he hears you complain about normal period products, he rubbed his chin, thinking. you’re uncomfortable??? with a problem that science could potentially solve???
“hmph. there must be a better way.” he disappears into his lab for hours.
★ what he makes depends on what you complain about! hate pads? “ah. they’re inefficient, bulky and uncomfortable. yes, darling, I see the flaws.”
hate tampons? “too absorbent, prone to leaking at unpredictable rates. . . fascinating, but flawed.”
cramps?? “prostaglandin-induced muscle contractions. I can work with this!”
no problem is too small. he listens to every complaint
★ “i will revolutionise menstruation, darling!” you're so proud of him. Ford is proud of himself too
★ normally, he treats you like his equal, his partner, his greatest love. but when you’re sick ohh he secretly loves having an excuse to baby you. he brings you tea and tests the temperature on his wrist before handing it over. he fluffs your pillows, tucks you in way too snug. if you groan in pain, he’s immediately alert. “what is it? what do you need? tell me, dearest, I’ll get it.”
i can't believe i wrote an entire fic from Ford's pov journaling reader's cycle, im going insane
179 notes · View notes
mj-iza-writer · 3 days ago
Text
Whumpee snuck quick glances at the papers that had been left on the coffee table. They were certain that it was about them, but their new caregiver wrote in a strange handwriting.
Caretaker glanced out at them. They grinned as they watched Whumpee strain their neck... trying to see the pages.
"Могу ли я помочь?", Caretaker chuckled. (Can I help?)
Whumpee jumped back onto the floor.
"Sorry, sorry", Whumpee shook as they scooted farther away from the table.
"It's alright", Caretaker smiled as they helped Whumpee sit up, "what were you up to? Do you need help?"
Whumpee looked down with embarrassment, "I was being nosey... and I shouldn't be poking my nose in your work. I'm sorry."
Caretaker nodded, "Well, it is about you. You don't have to worry, I'm not upset. You were concentrating really hard. Were you able to read any of it?"
"M-my name", Whumpee admitted, "no offense, but your writing is hard to make out."
"Well, it's written in Russian, so I would hope it would be difficult", Caretaker chuckled as they picked up the notes.
"Rus... Russian?", Whumpee looked at them questioningly.
"Da", Caretaker nodded as they shuffled the papers, "I file my patient notes in two different ways. All of these notes will be stored in the secure program on my computer. I will transfer these into English then. My paper chart is kept in Russian as many people can not read it. That keeps my patient's information safe in case there was a break-in or something happened with the charts. When I finish with my patient, these papers will be shredded."
Whumpee glanced at the chart again.
"You can look at them if you like. I'm just about to start dinner", Caretaker handed the papers to Whumpee, "I hope you like кура с гречой."
"Uhm", Whumpee stared dumbfoundedly.
"It's chicken with buckwheat", Caretaker turned.
"Ku.... r..a... sss", Whumpee tried, but paused.
Caretaker slowly pronounced, "kura s grechoy", while Whumpee tried to follow along.
"Very good... Молодец (well done)", Caretaker cheered, "spoken like a true Russian."
Whumpee smiled excitedly, "really... I did it right?"
Caretaker nodded joyfully, "you did. Now, would you like to come help me cook, or do you want to stare at my writing for a while?"
Whumpee looked down at the pages, "it looks cool. I wish I could understand more of it though. I never really knew this was what Russian looked like."
Caretaker knelt down and took a page gently. They carefully read over the page in English to tell Whumpee what the lines said.
"Now this is the Russian", Caretaker read over the lines again.
Whumpee cocked their head to the side as Caretaker read to them.
Caretaker smiled when they looked up.
"Can I learn more?", Whumpee whispered, "please."
"Yes, you can", Caretaker nodded, "we can practice while you stay with me. How does that sound?"
"Good", Whumpee looked at them excitedly.
"Умелый (capable, good)", Caretaker finally stood, "I believe you are capable of learning the language, at least as much as you want to. I know it can be difficult, but it's possible. It's a great part of life to share in other's cultures. It can be a lot of fun. Would you like to learn how to cook something."
Whumpee nodded quickly.
"Alright, come on", Caretaker offered a hand to help Whumpee up.
Whumpee set the papers down and took Caretaker's hand.
"Ku...ra...", Whumpee attempted, "sss... uh... gre?"
"You'll get it", Caretaker promised, "it just takes time."
I just want to attempt something a little different and see if I could use a different language in my writing. I'm not Russian, but I think the language and writing are very cool. I also have a very good friend on here who is very very patiently helping me. This may be a sneak glimpse into a plan I have for SP Specail Containment as well. I am very excited for my next parts to hopefully come back soon. - Mj
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.
@weirdthingweee @the-beasts-have-arrived
@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid
@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz
@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13
@notpeppermint @cyborg0109
@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots
@whumpbump @everythingsscary
@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr
@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee
@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems
@lavndvrr @ivymyers
@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas
@lumpofsand @watermeezer
@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains
@risk606 @electrons2006
@paperprinxe @whumprince
@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves
@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things
@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud
@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald
@jasperthecapser @does-directions
@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter
@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf
@thenormalestever @whatwhump
@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation
86 notes · View notes
sosa2imagines · 2 days ago
Note
Ooo I just thought about this idea!!
Can I please request a Nick Fowler x fem!civilian reader where she’s at the wrong place at the wrong time and witnesses a crime that him and his men are committing and they take her hostage and originally plan to get rid of her because she’s seen too much and honestly his men are completely ready to follow through (they’re the ones who found her), but in her fear/nervousness she can’t help the sarcastic jokes and rambling that keep flying out of her mouth, to the point where honestly Nick is so amused by her and thinks she’s hilarious, and the two of them have clear chemistry and flirtation that neither can deny, so he decides to spare her and instead offer a deal (similar to the one he gave Mace, just without the spy stuff), asking her to join him and be with him (and unlike Mace, she happily agrees) *Cue Nick spoiling Y/n, giving her a life of luxury,and them falling In love🤧*
Tumblr media
Sorry this took time, but I do hope it was worth the wait and you like it. Warning- Goons, metion of a body(nothing graphic or in details), fluff.
Tumblr media
It had been a long day at work for you, and all you wanted was a night of comfort and relaxation. You picked up a bottle of water and a snack from a convenience store, and put on your earbuds, tuning out the world around you as you made your way to the registers to pay.
As you were leaving, you glanced down the alleyway towards the nearest exit.
The sound of someone grunting and moaning caught your attention. You hadn’t expected to step out into an alleyway crime scene. If only you had turned on your ear buds, you could have totally ignored this. But no!
So here you are.
The warehouse was dimly lit, and you could faintly hear the hum of the streetlights outside. The air was filled with the stench of gas and something else that smelled far worse. You had taken a step when you noticed five men, heavily armed and dressed in dark clothes. Their expressions were cold and devoid of any hint of mercy, and one of the men was dragging an unconscious body towards a black SUV.
You didn’t mean to gasp, but you did. And that was all it took.
A rough hand clamped over your mouth, stifling any scream that was trying to escape your lips. Before you could make a sound, a man with cold, lethal eyes and a face that looked like a skull of bones pushed you up against a hard wall. You found yourself staring at him.
“What do we do with her?” One of the men hissed out.
“She saw too much!” another man growled.
The rational part of your brain was telling you to stay silent, but the fear you were feeling sent your mouth to speak out of instinct.
“Oh great,” you blurted out, the sarcastic words spewing from your lips like a torrent. “Yeah, totally fine. You guys go ahead. I'll just, you know, erase this from my memory using tazer... Pjust zap me…maybe? oh wait, you don't have that, do you? Fantastic!”
Silence.
“Great, I’m going to die! They are not even good looking.” You thought to yourself.
The men looked at each other, a few seemed ready to shoot you to shut you up, while one man was rummaging around in his jacket to pull out his weapon. A voice cut through the tense atmosphere like a knife. It was deep, smooth, and held a hint of amusement.
“Hold on.”
Nick Fowler.
You knew nothing about Nick, just whispers, rumors. Everyone knew he was a dangerous man, someone to be avoided. His reputation was enough to make even the most hardened criminals shiver.
And yet, as he stood there, head tilted slightly, he couldn't help but find amusement in your situation. He seemed almost entertained by the fact that you had seen him in such an exposed position.
“He’s hot!” You thought.
“What’s your name?” Nick asked.
“Uh…” Your brain short-circuited. “Y/n.”
Nick’s smirk turned into a low chuckle. “Cute.” He turned to his men. “Let her go.”
“What?” The one holding you looked confused. “Boss, she saw everything.”
Nick's dark eyes studied you closely, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he gave a slight shrug, as if he had just reached a conclusion. “Yeah, you heard right,” he replied, his voice low and smooth. “She’s definitely the most entertaining thing I have come across all week.”
You couldn't help but speak up, a small smirk on your face. “Damn, man,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You really need to get out more.”
Nick chuckled with a low, rumbling sound deep in his chest. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Sweetheart,” he began, “tell me, what would you do if presented with a choice?”
You replied, your voice laced with a hint of curiosity. “A choice?”
His eyes narrowed as he continued. “You could disappear, vanish into thin air, never to be seen again... or you can choose an alternative.” His voice was laced with a dangerous tone as he issued the last option. “Be. Mine.”
You swallowed hard. The smart thing to do would be to run, to never look back. But the way he was looking at you, like you were something new, something he wanted, sent a thrill through you.
And really, what did you have to go back to?
You smiled, “Well, since you put it like that…”
“What could possibly go wrong? He’ll get bored of me and let me go…” You thought again.
Oh how wrong you were.
Nick Fowler was an enigma in more ways than one. One moment you were barely managing to pay rent, and the next, you found yourself draped in the silks of the wealthiest and wearing the most luxurious of clothes, sipping champagne with an impressive view outside the penthouse suite. You had everything a person could wish for...
Nick spoiled you like a king would spoil his favorite concubine. He showered you with gifts, made sure you wanted for nothing.
Nick was an intriguing man, and he quickly learned that you weren't one who could be bought off. The luxurious lifestyle, the opulent gifts, the lavish cars, none of it had the power to win you over, and he was determined to figure out what did.
He was clever, charismatic, and observant, and soon he discovered that it wasn't the gifts or material items that were drawing you to him.
You couldn't deny it, deep down. You had grown fond of Nick, and he wasn't the type of man you thought suited you. He listened intently, remembered details that other people would overlook, and challenged you, but never tried to control you.
The longer you spent time with him, the harder it became to resist the growing feelings of affection. His charisma and charm were only intensified further by his actions. It had taken time, and you had fallen for him despite your initial reservations.
And how had Nick Fowler, fallen for you?
You pushed his buttons without hesitation. Where even his loyal men, would not question him, you did it like he's your childhood friend. From questions about his life to his life choices. From his profession to personal life. You even did a little dance in secret when he said he's single. You even questioned him about his weapons.
Where Nick was more of a less speaker, you were a complete chatter box. And that stole his heart.
He was dangerous, sure, but with you, he was different. Protective. Teasing. Almost soft in a way you doubted anyone else ever got to see. And the chemistry between you? Electric. He challenged you, you challenged him, and somehow, in the chaos of it all, you fit.
“Regrets?” he asked one night, pulling you onto his lap as you lounged by the fireplace.
You smirked, twirling the expensive ring he’d slid onto your finger a few days ago. “Only that I didn’t say yes sooner.”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good girl.”
And just like that, you realized you were exactly where you were meant to be.
With him.
Tumblr media
Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@stellar-solar-flare @navybrat817 @steviebbboi
@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
34 notes · View notes
andichoseyou · 3 months ago
Text
this has been one of the best merch drops in such a long time, i wanted to get so many of the items!!!! dont have a lot to spend though so i just got this
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
here-there-were-dragons · 10 months ago
Text
every time i think the "staff can do no wrong and any form of complaining or expressing literally anything other than "yaaay love it <3" with no further comments is bashing and literally evil we should never say anything that could even potentially be interpreted as mildly critical ever because ~some artist who worked hard on this is probably reading the forums and might feel bad if we ever express anything but praise~ also we must be constantly positive at all times unless we're passive-aggressively shaming someone for having an extremely polite and apologetically worded criticism and if you ask the staff for literally anything you had better be prepared to preface it with 3 paragraphs of apologizing for breathing air" attitude is bad on tumblr, i take one look at the forums, and holy fucking hell is it SO much worse on site
#i go for years at a time without ever bothering to look at fr forums#and then every time i do i remember why i stopped#it feels like a goddamned cult on there and every time i dip my toes i come out feeling slimy and sick#as if i just spent an hour being aggressively gaslit by my extremely manipulative grandmother#what the fuck is wrong with everyone#i'm glad i decided to keep this creepy fucking fandom at arm's length and mostly just lurk years ago#that place is not a healthy environment for anyone to be in#flight rising#legitimately the single worst fandom i've ever had the misfortune of being adjacent to#and in such a creepy and insidious way too#they'll call you an entitled whiny baby to your face and then convince you it's your fault and you're a horrible person for feeling offende#it feels like being neck deep in the absolute worst kind of preformative sj spaces#you know the ones where everyone interacts primarily via callout posts and there's discourse over if crossdressing is cultural appropriatio#that kind of toxic sj space type energy#but somehow combined with like this weird feeling of being in a mormon church in a deep south town#where all the “nice grandmas” will try to put poison in your food if they find out you're gay or voted blue even one time#and it's somehow gotten SO much worse since the last time i looked on there#they've got people literally apologizing for existing what the fuck how is this normal to any of you people#this is so far beyond toxic positivity it's like. crossbred with passive-aggression and shaming and metastatized into something new entirel#it's terrifying. i hope flight rising never shuts down just so that whatever the fuck this is can stay semi-contained.#pro tip: the more a fandom is universally convinced it's Wonderful and Welcoming the faster you should run the other way#actually good fandoms don't have to constantly reassure themselves and everyone that they're great and perfect and toxicity-free#nor do they react with immediate borderline violence to the slightest suggestion there might be anything wrong with the fandom culture#anything wrong other than “people like you who think there's something wrong with our perfect community” anyway#on that note also any fandom that insistently calls itself a “community” just. yeah. no.#get out while you still can.#fandoms work on corporate logic if they're trying to convince you they're your family or friend that's not just a red flag#that's a whole damn red fabric store
3 notes · View notes
ame-to-ame · 7 months ago
Text
anyway i have reached my daily limit of stomach cancer(/hj) jokes i can make to my friends today (1) so I'm gonna complain here instead that i have the worst abdominal pain I've had in weeks and i feel so sick
0 notes
lokissweater · 3 months ago
Text
beetlejuice!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
{beetlejuice!satoru gojo x f!reader}
— “ may you never forget me ” ♪ ༘⋆
summary: living as a psychic medium was like a ticket straight to nothing in your life, you always accidentally creeping people out and scaring them when you talked about it, and you just feeling empty— like something was missing and vacant in your life with no explanation as to why. but upon stumbling through an attic inside a house of a recently deceased couple, you meet him— beetlejuice, a silly and wacky man who was damned to live in the attic for eternity due to him breaking the rules, you never having met a spirit so forward and flirtatious in your life as you quickly bonded. but when beetlejuice presents the idea of you being able to break his contract and finally set him free, you hesitate at the one condition… marrying him.
warnings: MDNI afab!reader, DIABOLICAL angst my god, angst w/ comfort though YIPPEEE, mentions of death, mentions of murder, reader is a psychic medium, fluuufff, SMUUUTTT, p in v sex, DOM AFF SATORU MEOOWWW, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, oral, blowie, mentions of ghosts and spirits and things, loosely inspired by the 80s movie, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)
word count: 19.8k
authors note: YEEEEEOOOOWWWW GET READY YALL….. SHES FREAKY… SHES ANGSTY… AND SHES THE MOMEEEENNTTTT omg i absolutely LOOOVEDDD writing this one so much and i hope you guys find it interesting or i’m gonna CRYYYY HEHEHEH no i’m jk but as always, i love you SO SO SO much and thank you for all of your love and support !! MWAAAHHH <333
Tumblr media
you’ve always had a knack for the paranormal.
and from the newspaper clippings you saw and the meddlesome whisperings of your fellow neighbors, newlyweds adam and barbara maitland died on their way home from a day out in the town— swerving in their vehicle while crossing over a bridge and crashing through the side of it, evidently sending themselves tumbling down to the river below and drowning.
it was the biggest tragedy your tiny town had ever been hit with, the maitland’s having renovated their house on the hill from scratch and had recently just finished it when the accident happened, the both of them in the midst of planning their honeymoon to get away from winter river for a little while, happy and in love and looking forward to a quiet serene life together.
it was a shame, really, and it only took two weeks for rumors to spread about how there were always weird moving shadows from the windows of their two story home, or slight flashings of neon blue or white seeping through the cracks of their front door— all of which pissed the realtors off seeing as the rumors prevented the house from being sold again, prospected buyers coming in with high hopes only to be scared off once they so even explored the town, a store clerk or a fellow neighbor quick to tell them of the gossip and to stay away, ultimately causing the house to collect dust and cobwebs until realtors decided they wouldn’t bother much with it anymore.
and the rumors always peaked your interest, as your entire life you’ve always had a passion for the supernatural seeing as your late parents were psychic mediums for the otherworldly, a beautiful ominous gift that was relayed to you from the moment you were able to correctly comprehend sentences, your mind and soul more welcoming to spirits of the unknown compared to regular folk who flat out refused.
and why? you didn’t know. they were just mystic entities that perhaps couldn’t find their way to the other side like they were intended, and if the rumors were true, the maitland’s were in the same predicament, and you felt like they just needed time and space without the pestering of realtors or dumb kids knocking on the windows to see if a ghost would pop out— deserving of a proper chance to figure it out.
except your boyfriend wouldn’t understand that either.
“babe c’mon!” he pleaded with you, a distressed look on his face. “i thought you liked creepy ghost shit?”
you scoffed. “yes rin but not to fucking break in and steal their things! what the hell’s the matter with you?!”
rin groaned and rubbed his eyes, his friends obviously annoyed and bothered by your defiance and it only made you feel awkward, sitting there on your desk chair in your college dorm and guiltily picking at your black nail polish.
“y/n we literally cannot go if you don’t go.” he pushed. “we need your ghost brain to tell us if they’re around so we can scram if they decide to kill us.”
you snorted, already aggravated by rin’s lack of respect and wholeheartedly believing dumb stereotypes.
“you’re committing a crime—”
“the house is abandoned! no one gives a shit!” he threw his arms up. “babe c’mon i’m serious it’s getting late and we’re losing time.”
why wasn’t he listening?
“what are you looking for anyways?” you mumbled.
“money.” he replied, grabbing his black bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “that’s literally it i won’t take anything else.”
“do you swear?” you peered up at him. “don’t take jewelry or any of their things just money and we get out.”
“yeah we won’t! right guys?”
rin looked over both of his shoulders to ensure that his friends agreed, them muttering and sighing as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek and feeling embarrassed for some reason, slowly standing and crossing your arms.
you never liked his friends.
“and leave me out of it okay?” you spoke. “we could get kicked out of college for this i don’t know how you’re not worried…”
he swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and nudged you on, you stumbling a bit as he basically had a lock around your neck on your way outside.
“they’re not gonna care y/n.” he dismissed, unlocking the car and his friends piling in the back while you settled in the passenger seat. “nobody will. it’s abandoned.”
the entire way there you were aggravated and guilty, rin and his friends babbling on about the valuable things they’d hope to find and the kind of ghosts they thought would appear, not a single person in the car an actual believer of those paranormal rumors as they poked fun and teased, your forehead against the glass of the window and miserable as rin drove up the steep hill— the night chilly and so dark that you could barely make out the shape of the house until you were just about to pull up to the driveway.
rin turned off his headlights and tuned down the radio to avoid drawing attention, steering wheel shifting a little to the right so the car could gradually round over and stop next to the front steps of the porch— rin shutting off the ignition once he parked and stuffing his keys into his pocket.
and you could immediately feel a presence even from outside the house, your arms stiff and tingly as you all quietly got out of the car and made your way to the stairs, dry dirt crinkling beneath your shoes as you tried to swallow back your nerves knowing that at any moment you could all be fucking arrested.
“are you sensing ghosts?” rin whispered, a sly teasing grin on his face as the floorboards of the porch creaked with your movements, his hand reaching and jiggling the doorknob.
“yeah.”
his eyes snapped over to you. “…really? yeah right.”
“no i’m serious.” you whispered back. “what did you bring me for if you’re not even gonna believe when i tell you—”
“okay! okay i’m sorry.” he apologized, though it didn’t seem genuine as he patted your back. “i believe you trust me.”
“wait— she said there’s ghosts?” one of his friends piped up. “how do you know?”
you went to answer but rin beat you to it.
“she’s a psychic… i guess.” he unzipped his bag and pulled out a mini tool kit, a mix of screwdrivers and bobby pins inside. “she can sense them.”
“oh my god…” another one mumbled, all of his friends eerie now. “rin— i thought you said those rumors were bullshit.”
your eyes narrowed. “you said that?”
“no!— i mean, technically yes but—” he took two bobby pins from the kit and put the rest of the box away, hunching down to lock pick the knob. “you guys really think any of that is real? it’s just the neighbors man they’re bored—”
“people here don’t just make up rumors like that rin.” you cut him off. “the majority of winter river is elderly and in retirement why the fuck would they be making up—”
“because they’re old and bored—”
the lock released a prominent click and rin tested the doorknob again, this time it turning all the way and opening as he pushed it wide, you all proceeding cautiously and it somehow being colder inside than it was outside as the group shined their flashlights around every corner and space, not bothering to tell your boyfriend that the presence you felt earlier was ten times stronger now, for rin never really believed you or just thought you were being funny whenever you mentioned things like that to him.
you had known rin since the start of college, him always the rebel dickish type as he didn’t follow directions or liked whenever people tried to tell him what to do, and how you ended up crossing paths with him and it sticking was something that was a mystery to you.
rin was everything you wanted at first.
and though he was a bit selfish, you foolishly looked past the fact and let him meddle his way into your already monotonous life, it being hard for you to make friends in the first place because of your psychic abilities— always feeling like something was missing and… vacant for years growing up without any explanation as to exactly why, figuring it was just the side effects of your parents’ passing.
but it still didn’t help when you’d accidentally partake in scaring off and weirding people out when you mentioned that you just saw their deceased relative wander by, rin being one of the first to actually stay because he didn’t believe you, choosing to turn a blind eye to something you treasured about yourself the most, stuck and left to wonder if there was ever someone who did.
but turning a blind eye to just your psychic ability became him turning a blind eye to everything about you, and you felt like he never really listened to what you had to say or cared, often switching the topic back to himself or giving you a series of ‘mhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ to get you to move on.
you didn’t feel seen anymore, but you loved him still for some reason.
“where do we even look?” one of his friends whispered, the lot of you traveling as a group through the entry room and down the hall to the kitchen.
“wherever you think a money bank would be.” rin mumbled, leading you all and going round to the living room, his flashlight shining over dusty furniture and spiderwebs. “i think it’d be better if we split up. half of us can take upstairs and the others can look through the kitchen, y/n and i are gonna dig through here for a bit—”
“what?” you spoke, his friends nodding and walking off to their designated areas. “rin no i told you i’m not—”
“oh my god babe— would it really hurt you to just peek in some freaking drawers? let me know if something looks like it has money in it alright?”
he stepped over to the middle and crouched by the coffee table, opening and closing several compartments. “be useful please.”
you scoffed. “you’re the one who dragged me here and i told you i wasn’t getting involved.”
“you’re not.” he mumbled, standing back up and going over to a big brown dresser on the side. “just look at shit and don’t touch anything. tell me if you see money.”
you rubbed your cheek in exhausted frustration, thinking it’d be better to just mindlessly look around to appease him as you caught and stared at the photographs over by the fireplace— a wedding portrait of whom you assumed to be adam and barbara maitland propped up amongst others of family and friends, your fingers raising to gently wipe away the dirt and grime from the glass to get a clearer look of them.
you felt awful that their lives were taken from them just when they had built such a loving foundation for it, and you felt even more awful that rin and his stupid friends were invading their space and stealing in the way that they were with no sense of respect.
a sudden loud thud from upstairs made you and rin stop in your tracks, the both of you unmoving as you tried to listen.
“i’m gonna—” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “i’m gonna check upstairs—”
“no absolutely not.” rin shook his head. “it’s probably just my friends it’s fine.”
“if it’s the maitland’s your friends aren’t gonna know what to do besides shit themselves—”
“okay yeah sure.” he laughed, opening and closing different drawers from top to bottom. “it’s the house babe it’s old and worn out. maybe the— wood or whatever is acting up.”
you pursed your lips, arms crossing and apprehensive as you stood next to him, knowing with everything in you that the maitland’s were definitely still present.
“can we please just go rin...” you asked softly. “please we’ll— we’ll find a different building that’s actually abandoned and doesn’t have the maitland’s still here—”
he scoffed. “y/n this one is abandoned.“
“but it’s only been three months!” you exclaimed. “i don’t wanna do this to them—”
“—oh sweet! there’s a rolex in here—”
“no!” you snatched the watch from his upheld hand and backed away towards the fireplace. “you swore to me just money these are their things—”
“y/n they’re dead! who fucking cares? all of their shit’s gonna be donated might as well pawn it.”
“yeah for your own benefit right?” you mumbled, pushing past him and walking down the hall. “i’m going home.”
he looked at you baffled. “are you serious? over a dumb watch?”
“rin you’ve gone back on everything you promised and you’re not taking me seriously—”
“did i take the watch? no i didn’t so stop—”
“i’m not talking about just the watch!”
“you know what?! fine!” rin shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, chucking them at you and hitting against your chest as you scrambled to catch them. “go wait in the car.”
you threw them back and they hit his upper arm, his eyes narrowing at you in return as he then bent down to grab them from the floor.
“i’m not waiting in the damn car i’m walking home.”
“you’re walking?” he shook his head. “back to your dorm? that’s gonna take you like an hour y/n.”
you shrugged.
“fine go i don’t give a shit.” rin muttered and rolled his eyes. “you always do this man—”
you didn’t bother to stick around for anything else he had to say as you trudged on down the hall and back to the main entryway, tears brimming your eyes at the lack of care he had for you and scolding yourself for the thousandth time for staying with him, trying to understand why he was like this with you when all you’ve ever done was be patient and give him the benefit of the doubt when he didn’t fucking deserve it.
it was hard for you to tell if he even loved you anymore, and you always psyched yourself out that he did whenever he’d barely just accomplish doing the bare minimum.
upon arriving at the front door, you placed the rolex gently on a lonesome night stand by the coat hanger, your hand reaching and turning the knob to step outside until another loud thud shook through the walls, and louder this time as you pulled back and craned your head to look up the stairs.
muffled voices seeped from the top as they gasped and whispered to each other to shush, you recognizing some to be rin’s friends with irritation and worry simmering in your brain, wondering if they were messing with the maitland’s things and stealing what they weren’t supposed to steal, as they were just as uncaring and selfish as rin was throughout the time that you’ve gotten to know them.
and with that in mind, you let go of the doorknob and quietly walked up the stairs, every creak and groan from the wooden slabs underneath your feet making you wince as you went further and further until you reached the top, you sighing as you saw that the maitland’s room door was wide fucking open and with snickering inside.
but with each step that you took to get closer… the more prominent the goosebumps on your arms became and the heavier the feeling in your gut grew, a strange apparent flickering light from your right blinding your vision for a moment as you stopped and turned to look.
your eyes slightly widened, a neon lime green foggy light practically oozing from the attic staircase as it streamed over half of your frame, luring you in with your body mindlessly and curiously walking towards it and up the rugged squeaky stairs, fingers quickly reaching up to swing the attic door open and halting in alarm once you did, the green aluminous light from earlier completely encasing you entirely now as you stepped forward inside the attic.
the door swung and slammed itself shut suddenly, you jumping and spinning around with hurried hands coming up to pull and tug at the knob, breathing irregular upon realizing that it wouldn’t fucking budge and was somehow jammed with no explanation as to exactly how—
“boyfriend troubles?”
“oh my god!” you screamed, hand flying over your heart as your eyes snapped to the source, a tall lanky man standing there with a little grin and vibrant pale blue eyes that only utterly confused you, his vertically stripped black and white suit peculiar and unique as your frantic eyes darted over his figure.
you knew for a fact that the strange man before you wasn’t adam maitland, for the way he looked now didn’t match the pictures you saw in the newspapers at all, you swallowing thickly and slowly backing up against the attic door with your heart dropping straight down to your ass.
who the fuck was he? was he— was he a spirit? because if not there’s a random man literally just basking and relaxing inside the—
“relax! relax jeez you look like you’re about to vomit sweets.”
sweets?
“are you dead?!” you blurted, hand scrambling behind you for the doorknob. “are you— are you alive how are you—”
he laughed loudly and wiggled his little index finger— scrunching it up and down to elicit a ‘yes’ and finding your skittishness a little funny.
“yup! so dead very dead.”
“o— oh… okay...” you spoke softly, tense shoulders gradually relaxing as you gave him a small timid smile, relieved that he wasn’t a freaking squatter and doing god knows what up in the attic.
“you seem happier to see a dead man rather than a live one...” he looked at you amusedly. “you like ghosts? scary stuff? haunted houses? handsome me?—”
you nearly choked on your spit at his last comment, an awkward smile wobbling across your face as you played with your fingers.
“i— i um..” you looked around, your eyes catching a book titled ‘handbook for the recently deceased’ sitting neatly on a dusty table by the door. “you could say that.. but—”
you hesitated, the man’s head tilting to the side as he waited for you to continue.
“but what pretty?”
you blushed furiously, never having met a spirit so forward before.
“sorry but— how did you end up here?” you stood on your tippy toes to peer over his shoulders and around the attic. “and where are the maitlands?”
“oh, those lousy goodie two shoed meanies?” he mumbled, pouting and bitter as he crossed his arms. “beats me..”
you laughed a little, guard slowly coming down as he didn’t seem or feel like a bad person to you, and you thought that perhaps he was in the same boat as the maitlands and was just trying to find his way to the other side.
“why are they meanies?” you smiled, and he reciprocated, arms falling to his sides.
“well— i’m kind of being held in the attic against my will by the— holy shit wait!”
he threw his hands out in front of him and took quick stride full steps towards you, a wild excited expression on his face and you stiffening up again, backing up against the door.
“you can help me!”
“help… you..?” you squeaked.
he vigorously nodded. “yeah! the butthead caseworkers down in the netherworld banned me from leaving the attic… but you can give me a little leg room in my contract sweets!”
netherworld— caseworkers— banned—
“huh?!” you exclaimed, brows furrowed and utterly confused at everything he was fucking saying.
you’ve only ever seen spirits from afar or casually talked to them about something fleeting before they went on their marry way, but never in your life have you met such a complex soul that was so animate and asking you for a favor straight off the bat… as spirits usually just— knew what they were doing and eventually figured out how to get to the great beyond.
so the subject of caseworkers and the netherworld and whatever the fuck else he was rambling on about was something you were not familiar with.
“i did something they didn’t like.” he gave you a boyish half smile. “so they did some ritual thing and now i can’t leave the attic.”
you frowned. “why would they do that? what did you do?”
he waved you off and swung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you forward with him towards a huge 3D model in the center of the room that you barely just noticed— intricate and detailed and colorful as your brain put two and two together and figured out that it was a model of the entire city of winter river.
“don’t worry about it! but i overheard juno telling her assistants not to say my name three times or else i’ll be let out to roam around the house—”
juno? who’s juno?
“—and that’s why i really need you sweets because i’m dying in this fucking attic… way more than i already am.”
you blinked at him. “i’ve never— i’ve seen spirits all my life and i’ve never had any of them tell me about caseworkers? and juno? who’s juno?”
“the rule is that the land of the living isn’t supposed to know.” he pursed his lips and dropped his arm from your shoulders, picking up the book that you had spotted earlier and passing it to you. “says it in the handbook.”
you timidly took it from him and flittered through the pages, old and crinkly and a little worn out as the gist of the pages you saw was a guide for those beginning their post-livelihood and the steps they needed to do so— from waiting rooms in the netherworld to being assigned a caseworker to help you out to the great beyond and so forth, your eyes falling on a particular page and catching specific line.
‘live people ignore the strange and unusual.’
they do. wrongfully they do.
and since people had been ignoring you out of fear your whole life… did that mean you were strange and unusual too?
“what?” the unknown man spoke, softly as his blue gaze switched between your solemn expression and the book, shifting his position to stand right next to you and see what you were looking at.
“oh sorry!” you laughed it off, closing the book and placing it down. “nothing i was just—”
“‘live people ignore the strange and unusual?’” he repeated. “what about it?”
you shook your head and sent him a small smile. “nothing! i was just looking—”
“just because you can see spirits doesn’t mean you’re strange or unusual.”
you stilled, eyes big as you watched the way he froze up over what he said, sheepishly relaxing after a moment and lifting an arm to pat over your head.
“sorry pretty. i can read and manipulate minds and i poked in yours...” he looked at you apologetically. “it’s another reason why they threw me in this shit hole.”
he dropped his hand then, a sincere glint in his eyes. “but i mean it.”
“i don’t know…” you mumbled, looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt. “i’ve never really had friends because of it… and i feel like that book kind of confirmed what i’ve been thinking.”
you quickly picked your head up. “oh but— it’s okay! i’m okay i’m used to it spirits are nicer anyways and i’ve always been alone so—”
“that’s not true.” he mumbled.
your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”
he funnily froze up again. “what do i mean what?”
“what’s not true?”
“oh! that— that spirits are nicer!” he quickly sputtered. “they’re assholes. all of them. every single one. including me!”
you giggled at his franticness and a smile spread across his face at that, endearing as he watched you slowly cheer up.
“people’s ignorance doesn’t define who you are sweets.” he spoke gently. “so don’t give them that right. you look perfectly fine to me!”
your eyes softened, wondering what the hell this man did that made the caseworkers down in the netherworld ritual him into a contract, as you were convinced it wasn’t even that bad at all and just straight up unfair, him being one of the kindest and silliest souls you’ve probably ever had the privilege to come across.
“i’ll help you.”
his eyes snapped to yours. “huh?”
“i’ll help you!” you spoke sweetly. “i’ll say your name three times so you can leave the attic.”
“wha— really?!” he exclaimed excitedly, hands animatedly flying everywhere as they went from digging into his white locks to all over his suit and then thrown out to grip over your shoulders, shaking you as you giggled again. “holy shit will you actually?!”
“yeah! why not?” you grinned. “i don’t think it’s right that you’re stuck up here all alone.”
“angel! angel! you’re an angel!” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and stuffed your face into his chest, squishing you so fucking tight and honestly holding you way longer than he should’ve, but you not minding one tiny bit as you hugged him back and smoothed a comforting friendly hand over his broad shoulders.
“what’s your name then?” you muffled against his suit. “so i can—”
“ahhh fuck.” he muttered. “i forgot about one thing.”
you pulled back a little. “hm?”
“i can’t tell you my name.”
“what?” you looked at him confusedly. “what do you mean? why not?”
“it’s part of the stupid contract sweets...” he sighed heavily. “but i can give you clues! ooo!— like charades! ready?”
“oh! o—okay!” you nodded, him finally letting you go and stepping back.
“don’t freak out.” he grinned in a silly way. “i’m about to make things show up.”
your eyebrows furrowed. “make things show up?”
he waved his hand and a life sized fucking black bug appeared out of nowhere, landing on one of the old wooden rocking chairs in the corner of the room as it wiggled its little legs and peered around, you screaming and flying behind the strange blue eyed man while he laughed loudly and looked over his shoulders for you.
“it’s okay! just a figment of your imagination is all.” he cheesed. “but guess now!”
“guess what?!” you shrieked.
“what that is!” he pointed to the bug.
you peeked an eye out from his side, the bug still gross and horrifying as it wiggled it’s antennas.
“a bug!”
“what kind?”
“a beetle!”
“yes!” he nodded vigorously. “okay that’s the first part!”
“your name starts with beetle?!—”
he waved his hand again and the bug disappeared, a carton of orange juice replacing it instead and floating in mid air, a shiny glass cup next to it as you amazedly watched it pour its bright orange contents into the cup without spilling a single drop.
“…orange juice?” you spoke softly, timidly coming around from behind him. “your names beetle orange juice?”
“not quite!” he made a drinking motion with his hand.
“beetle drinking orange juice?”
he laughed. “no! you’re adding too many words pretty take some out.”
“beetle drinking juice?”
“nope.”
“beetle drinking orange?”
“colder.”
“beetlejuice?—”
“yes!” he threw his hands out, eyes wild and excited. “yes that! and you’ve already said it once now just two more times—”
“beetlejuice.”
“uh huh uh huh—”
“beetle— mmph!”
a pair of hands clasped over your mouth from behind you and pulled you back, you letting out a muffled scream as you thrashed and quickly pried their fingers away, you spinning around and fully expecting to see rin behind you with a shit eating grin and laughing in your face for scaring you.
except it wasn’t rin.
it was the maitlands.
“don’t say his name honey.” barbara spoke first. “trust me… don’t.”
“i mean— are we sure about this sweetheart?” adam looked at his wife. “maybe he isn’t all that bad… hell we don’t even know for sure—”
barbara shook her head. “adam, did you not hear a word juno said? he was about to take advantage of that poor girl!”
take advantage?
you heard a scoff behind you and you turned around, a disgruntled and pissed off look on beetlejuice’s face as he crossed his arms.
“jeez i know you don’t like me but that’s low.” he mumbled. “i wouldn’t do something like that.”
your head turned back to barbara. “you know who juno is?”
she nodded. “juno’s our caseworker… we got assigned to her in the netherworld after we died.”
“took us three months waiting in the waiting room until she finally got to us.” adam added, chuckling in humorous disbelief. “but all she really did was nag at us and warn us about him.”
adam pointed behind you and you turned around again, beetlejuice bitterly looking to the side with his lips pursed.
oh god.
had he been feeding you nonsense this entire time?
“warn about what.” you mumbled, and beetlejuice snapped his head in your direction with anxious eyes.
“juno calls him a bio-exorcist.” barbara informed you. “he tried to illegally cross over to the land of the living and bring himself back to life.”
your eyes bulged open. “back to life? how?”
“you switch souls with someone else through a ritual.” adam piped in. “juno says he attempted to trick and switch souls with somebody that was alive so he could terminate all who were living… and they didn’t even know about it.”
“that’s not true!” beetlejuice countered, utterly exasperated. “the old hag made that up!”
he quickly walked towards you, taking your hands in his and looking at you pleadingly.
“please sweets you’ve gotta believe me i never wanted to kill anybody—”
you ripped your hands away and glared. “so this entire time you’ve been lying, playing some hopeless victim so you can poke into my head and find out shit about me to use to your advantage?—”
“no! no i— i haven’t been lying about anything it’s juno!”
“juno.” you repeated coldly. “and what’s she lying about exactly.”
“about killing the living!” he threw his hands out in emphasis. “she literally pulled that out of her ass when her and her minions banned me—”
“and what about tricking that person to switch souls with you so you can come back?”
he faltered, words completely failing him and guilty eyes looking into yours so deeply that it nearly made you feel bad for yelling at him.
“that’s… that’s true.”
you let out a breath of disbelief and barbara put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and comfortingly as she looked at you with caring eyes.
“we don’t know what to believe either honey.” she began. “it’s a lot of he said she said… but it’s better to be safe. he tried to get us to say his name three times too in exchange for his help.”
you quirked a brow. “help? what do you guys need help with?”
“your buddies downstairs.” adam sighed. “they’re stealing our things and just messing up the house… but we’ve been watching you and we know you’ve been trying to get them out and so have we… horrendously though.”
“oh my god—” you slapped a hand over your gaping mouth. “i totally forgot about them! i’m so so sorry oh my god i can’t even begin to explain to you how embarrassing this is i’ve been telling them to stop—”
barbara laughed and waved you off. “it’s alright! we know sweetheart. but we’re not frightening enough to scare them off whatsoever… so that’s what we were trying to get his help for.”
“and i still can y’know…” he muttered. “even though you hate me.”
“i don’t hate you juno does.” she crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “adam and i are lost we don’t know what’s going on and we can’t even read that thing for the recently deceased.”
“we’re just trying to get them out of the house son…” adam finished off.
and in that moment you felt like you were the one responsible for this. that if you had bitched about it harder, even screamed at rin to get him to stop or damn near called the fucking cops on them so that this wouldn’t be happening right now… the maitlands wouldn’t have to suffer and struggle like this every waking day to protect their home and what rightfully still belonged to them even after death.
because the maitland’s roaming around and producing shadows and figures and scaring the realtors and prospected buyers off wasn’t just for shits and giggles… but to try and keep what was once theirs and feel a sense of normalcy for the life they once had.
that was their great beyond. their home.
“i’ll get them to leave.” you smiled at barbara and adam. “i don’t care if i literally have to start fist fighting with his friends this is so unfair—”
“wait! are— are you sure sweets?” beetlejuice interjected worriedly. “your boyfriend’s kind of nuts and i can’t help you once you leave the attic—”
“i’m sure.” you mumbled, still bitter and annoyed at him. “can’t be anymore nuts than you basically trying to kill someone so you can prance around alive again—”
“i already apologized to the entire netherworld nation for that!” he argued. “but if you ask me, if it’s so bad then they shouldn’t have put the fucking instructions in the guidebook.”
“juno says guidebook reveals to you what you want most.” adam spoke. “because barb and i didn’t see a single page that had to do with that… mostly just tips on how to scare the living.”
beetlejuice closed his eyes exhaustedly and shook his head. “doesn’t matter. i’m not trying to trick anyone right now i just want to get out of this damn attic—”
he looked to you again. “—please say my name three times pretty i’ve poked in your boyfriends head and he’s looney i don’t want you to—”
“i’ll see you guys in a sec!” you walked over to the door and left a sputtering frustrated beetlejuice behind. “if nothing works i’ll literally just take my boyfriends keys and drive the car down the hill, he freaks over that thing—”
your voice trailed off as you walked down the creaky stairs of the attic and down the hall of the second floor, the maitlands main bedroom coming into view as you tried to get a script together in your head as to what exactly you were gonna tell rin… but your footsteps quickening at the sound of loud yelling and laughing coming from inside the bedroom, sounds of glass shattering and moving furniture making you panic as you practically stumbled in from the doorway.
and your heart stopped, rin standing there with a crow bar in his hands that he got from who the fuck knows where, smashing multiple vases and porcelain jewelry cases and stuffing his pockets full of anything that looked shiny and valuable in his eyes, the mattress and blankets thrown over to the side and the mainland’s things just completely ransacked as you took it all in.
“rin!”
he jumped and spun around, brows pinching upon seeing you standing there.
“what are you doing here? i thought you left?”
“what the fuck?!” you gestured to the broken shards on the floor and strewn about articles of clothing. “what the hell is wrong with you?!”
“calm down babe it’s fine.” he turned and smashed another small jewelry case, you scoffing in response. “it’s all useless shit that’s gonna dust over—”
“get out.”
he snorted. “uh huh—”
“i’m serious rin get out.” you spat. “all of you.”
“yeah like i’d listen to you.” he spoke harshly, eyes narrowed and sharp as he turned again. “go wait in the fucking car or go home—”
“i’m calling the cops.”
“what?!”
a series of protests and worrisome comments erupted in the air from the group, all thrown directly at a fuming rin as he chucked his crow bar to the side— it clattering on the wooden floor as he hastily trudged over to you and gripped your upper arm, yanking you with him and out of the room into the hallway by the stairs.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing huh?” he spoke lowly and in your face. “embarrassing me in front of my friends like that?”
you shoved him off. “get out and find another building or i’m calling the cops rin.”
“yeah and if you do that i’m telling them you’re a shitty psychic medium so they can throw you in the shrink.”
your jaw dropped.
rin was being meaner than usual.
“why are you like this.” you mumbled. “i don’t even know why i’m still with you you’re an asshole and you’re pathetic—”
he got in your face again and grabbed your jaw, pressing you up against the railing of the staircase and damn near throwing you over as the edge of it dug into your lower back, your fingers gripping his arm and struggling to pull him away from you while his friends quietly gasped and silently watched in shock.
“pathetic? me?” he laughed humorously. “you’re the one who doesn’t have anything or anyone besides me and yet you still treat me like this you ungrateful bitch—”
“rin okay that’s enough dude let her go—”
“you wanna shut up? or do you wanna trade spots with her?” his fiery crazed eyes switched over to his friend, him only cowering under rin’s intense stare and shaking his head no, diverting his gaze and you still squirming and tugging for your freedom.
“get— off me—”
“or what?” he pushed you further back and your breath hitched, your feet off the ground now at this point as one of your hands shot out to grip the railing for support. “you gonna call your ghost friends for help? go ahead i wanna see you do it you lying—”
“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!”
a thunderous roar broke out into the air, actual lightning and black smokey fog spreading over the ceiling and around you as rin instantly let you go and looked around, all of his friends in a pure state of fear and alarm as they lost sight of each other amongst the suffocating mist— including you as you frantically tried to look for a clear path out, unable to decide if you regretted what you had just done.
“never seen a man with such a power trip!” a booming voice echoed through the house that you quickly recognized to be beetlejuice’s, the walls vibrating with each word. “seems to me like it’s all bark and no bite!”
“what did you do y/n?!” you heard rin’s distant yelling from somewhere you couldn’t pinpoint, the air cold and prickling at your skin. “who did you call?!”
“a god!” beetlejuice excitedly answered. “achilles preferably! wait actually he’s a demigod not a—”
“who the fuck is achilles?!”
the air cleared in the center suddenly and revealed a petrified rin, wide eyed and angry as he whipped his head around to try and figure out what was going on.
“you don’t know who achilles is?” half of beetlejuice popped out of nowhere from above the fog and his friends screamed at the mere size of him, for he wasn’t the normal looking man you saw before but a borderline monster— huge and crazed as he looked down at rin in particular with a scary grin.
but his eyes were still a fascinating sparkling blue, oddly familiar in a way as you watched the scene before you through the black air, beetlejuice continuing.
“read a book your stupid is showing.”
he lunged while simultaneously popping his eyeballs out of their sockets with his tongue out, cartoonish and terrifying as his friends yelled for help and scrambled to try and leave, struggling though the smothering mist as you placed a hand over your mouth in shock.
beetlejuice sucked his eyeballs back in and blinked to adjust. “what? you guys scared too? shouldn’t have been so mean to my little sweets over there then!”
they all looked to you and you froze, rin’s gaze narrowing.
“his little sweets?” he clenched his jaw. “the hells he talking about?”
beetlejuice didn’t know why rin was so dumb for even attempting at getting near you again after everything he did and said— his footsteps quick and stompy towards you until he straight up smacked into an invisible wall and doubled back with a hand over his nose, your brows pinching in confusion.
you timidly reached a hand out, expecting your fingers to touch an invisible barrier except there wasn’t one at all as they fell through completely over nothing, your arm slowly retracting back to your chest.
you looked up at beetlejuice’s huge figure, and he gave you a bright cute smile that made your cheeks heat up.
“this is bullshit!” rin roared, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and pointing at you after. “you’re a goddamn nutcase y/n! what kind of show are you putting on huh?!”
“me?!” you shot back. “maybe you should stop being a dick for once in your life and listen when i tell you things you idiot.”
“yup!” beetlejuice quipped. “doll if you’re still with him after all of this i’m gonna have to start haunting you in your dreams.”
your gaze switched to beetlejuice and you laughed, a little glint to his eye as he watched you shake your pretty head.
“i was gonna dump him the minute i got him out of the house—”
“what?!” rin barked. “dump me? for what?!”
you scoffed. “are you serious? what do you mean for what?”
“fuck— babe okay i’m sorry alright? i’m sorry i’m just a little overwhelmed right now—”
“you’re a sack of shit.” beetlejuice spat. “and call her babe again and i’ll start the engine of your car and ram it through a tree.”
you snickered and rin swiveled around to face him.
“why don’t you stay out of this freak and leave my girlfriend alone—”
“sweets i’ll make him go away if you marry me.”
you choked, flustered and stiff as you looked at him, bewildered out of your mind.
“huh?!”
“pretty pleeaaseee.” he dragged. “you saying my name got me out of the attic but not the house itself… but if you marry me i’m a free man!”
“how does that—” you let out a shocked breath. “how does that even make sense—”
“marry me.”
“but i!—”
“marry me that’s my condition.”
“hold on!—”
rin dove at you with the full intention to grab you and pull you away, but eyes widening in terror as an invisible force practically grabbed his ankle and sweeped him back and away from you, dragging his body across the wooden floor and over to beetlejuice, his friends having enough of all of this and making a run for it down the stairs.
“oh! i almost forgot about you guys!”
beetlejuice nudged his head and they were sent flying back just like rin, all of them screaming and pleading for mercy as their bodies dragged across the floor and returned to him.
“which of you should i gobble up right now… i’m feeling the one on the far right! he’s trembling like a little leaf—”
“please no!” he cried. “i’ll— i’ll do anything! i’ll leave i’ll never—”
“—and i’ll save rin for the very end… best for last right?!”
they all wailed and clawed at the foggy air, your body unmoving as you tried to figure out if beetlejuice was actually being serious.
“please man!—”
“i’m sorry i’m so sorry!—”
“don’t apologize to me you doofuses.” another invisible force grabbed them all by the ankles and pulled them up, dangling them upside down. “apologize to her. then maybe i’ll spare you… how’s that sound?!”
“y/n! please! i’m sorry—”
“we’re sorry dear god!—”
“y/n!—”
“put— put them down!” you wavered. “that’s enough it’s okay! jesus..”
“awww already?!” beetlejuice pouted. “but i haven’t even started swinging them around yet… like a little ferris wheel! heh.”
you slapped a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh once rin and his friends started wailing in fear again, you shaking your head and smiling at him.
“it’s okay! next time! just let them go i’m sure they’ll run—”
“y/n, it seems like you understand me… you’re the only one that hasn’t bitten my head off in the entire three years that i’ve been dead!”
you laughed again. “i’m glad! now put them down please—“
“so be my wife then.”
“beetlejuice!”
“what?!” he whined. “you don’t wanna be my lawful wedded wife?”
“no!— well— just—”
“is it because i’m dead?”
“put them down and i’ll consider it!”
“yes ma’am!”
the invisible force dropped them and they slammed against the hardwood floors, each and every single one of them fumbling to get their things that flew out of their pockets while upside down and scurrying away, hurried footsteps stomping down the staircase as they tripped over their feet to get to and out the front door, you observing in amusement and slight guilt, leaning over the edge of the staircase to watch them go.
and the second that they did, the stuffy black fog lifted and felt immensely lighter, it dispersing into the air above you as it thinned out to a mere silly mist, cold and wet to the touch and similar to the air you’d feel after a long days worth of rainfall and cloudy weather, slow strides coming up from behind you as you saw beetlejuice’s shiny raven leather dress shoes out of the corner of your eye, you standing upright and turning to him.
he smiled warmly at you.
“thank you.” you grinned, bashful as he reached and fixed up your hair— hands smoothing over your head and down before his fingers lightly grazed and played with the ends of your strands.
“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “thank you for getting me out of the attic sweets!”
you kindly nodded.
“sweetheart, are you alright?”
you looked back and saw the maitlands, barbara walking up with outstretched arms and pulling you in for a hug.
“that boy was insane!” she pulled back and held you out at an arms length by the shoulders. “we tried so hard to intervene while he was yelling at you but we’re useless… they couldn’t see us.”
you giggled. “no it’s okay! really you didn’t need to i wouldn’t ever wanna put you guys in that position.”
“honey— he almost pushed you off the railing…” adam spoke softly. “if you hadn’t called for beetlejuice lord knows what he would’ve done… he was so aggressive and we were worried…”
your heart warmed, never in your life having been so cared for and looked after— funnily enough that you were receiving that sacred feeling from beings that were dead rather than living and it reminding you a little bit of the way your parents were with you when you were young, when they were still alive.
“we’re sorry for being so hard on you kid…” barbara sighed, gaze shifting to beetlejuice. “mistakes happen. i’m sure your passing was something you weren’t expecting like us.”
“oh! no it’s okay don’t.” he smiled brightly. “i almost killed a man i understand.”
“but we understand too.” adam added, and you felt like he was also referring to something you had no clue about as he had a particular look in his eyes, something that was only amongst them three. “i would’ve considered the same.”
beetlejuice swung an arm around your shoulders and looked down at you.
“so are you my little wife?”
“okay—” barbara laughed. “not that you know this—”
“adam! barbara!”
a sudden shriek boomed through the house and beetlejuice instantly pulled you behind him, waving his hand and an invisible force sending you further away until your back gently bumped against the wall, panic rising in your chest as the same black fog from earlier returned and swirled around you, blocking your vision.
was he… was he hiding you? what for?
“juno!” beetlejuice greeted, laughing awkwardly. “heyy long time no see!”
oh.
“zip it bozo.”
from the cracks and openings that you could see through the whirling wind, a proper old lady in professional office attire stood there with her arms crossed, a pissed off look on her face as she tapped her heel against the floor and played with the pearls around her neck.
“what did i tell you two about letting him free?” she scolded. “he’s a loose cannon! he’s not to be trusted!”
“i know i know we’re sorry… we just really needed to get those kids out! and they’re gone! and beetlejuice seems alright!” barbara looked to her husband, a desperate flicker in her gaze. “right adam?”
“yes! uh uh!” adam stepped forward and sighed softly. “please juno… he’s just a kid. he’s learned and what he did was three years ago—”
“what he did could’ve cost me my job and set my entire office up in flames.” juno lectured, pointing her wrinkly finger at beetlejuice next. “you broke a million undead laws and have hundreds of violation codes on your record. your punishment was to stay in the attic for eternity.”
eternity?
oh god no.
“but now i’m gonna have to send you to live inside mr. maitland’s winter river model and you better stay there!”
“what?!” beetlejuice scoffed. “juno please there’s gotta be a way i can lift those violations?”
“i’m afraid there isn’t.” she seethed.
“pretty please?”
“no.”
“with a cherry on top?”
“absolutely not.”
“not even probation?—”
“not even probation! you’re gone!”
your eyes blew open as you watched juno extend an arm out and move it to the side, a bright white blinding light encasing her entire figure and you quickly pushed a hand through the black fog and grabbed the back of beetlejuice’s suit, everything around you scarily blurring out and disappearing and you squeezed your eyes shut, arms reaching out to wrap around his upper torso as you buried your face in his back.
you didn’t want him to go… not at all. and the thought of him stuck inside a model forever like that all alone terrified you.
you understood why he was punished in the first place, but why couldn’t juno just see that he was good? that all he was trying to do was come back to life and live? something many other souls would also kill for?
hadn’t he been punished enough already? he stood stuck in that attic for three god damn years straight with no means of escape whatsoever, and now he was shamefully being sent to live inside a styrofoam cardboard model that was far worse than that stupid attic, for now he couldn’t be seen by anyone even if he truly wanted to be.
had that not been enough? enough of a sign to reconsider his contract?
why couldn’t he just be given a second fucking chance—
“pretty?”
you opened your eyes, forehead quickly detaching from his back and looking up, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you worriedly from behind as he shifted his body a little in your hold to face you.
“what are you doing here i thought—” his surprised gaze shifted over to the way you were clutching onto him, and he relaxed, smiling a little.
“you grabbed me baby?”
“i—” you let him go and stepped back, your cheeks a vibrant pinky shade. “y—yeah…”
he turned around fully.
“why?”
“because—” you bit your bottom lip, peering cutely up at him.
“because i thought we were getting married…”
beetlejuice’s expression dropped and he stared at you wide eyed, his face reddening at your words.
“i don’t— i don’t understand—”
“what?” you giggled. “i thought you proposed to me earlier?”
“i did! yes i did!” he rapidly nodded. “but— but are you actually serious?”
you nodded. “mhm! i am!”
“you can say no sweets honestly it’s okay…”beetlejuice spoke softly with pinched brows. “i’ll cry myself to sleep and shrivel up but i can handle it don’t worry about me—”
you laughed and nudged his shoulder with yours. “i wanna marry you… i wanna set you free.”
you walked over to a little bench, the feeling of you stepping on rubber and glue a little weird under your feet as you sat down and smiled, gently patting the spot next to you.
“i’m not letting you stay here forever by yourself, not when you’ve been doing that already for years.” you murmured, him taking a seat next to you with a yearn-full but apprehensive face.
“you deserve to do the things you want to do and see the things you want to see…” you looked at him so sincerely and loving that he felt his undead heart throb. “… and if i can help you in anyway to get you there i don’t care what it is. i can’t think of anyone more deserving of freedom than you.”
“you’re so pure…” he softly took your hand, yours warm and pumping in comparison to his cold and stiff one. “you always have been.”
he stared at your hand still, his index finger delicately tracing over the faint markings of your working veins underneath your skin, trying to remember what they looked like on him when he was alive, and if they ever looked as precious as yours did.
beetlejuice raised your hand and kissed it, eliciting a fuzzy blush to your cheeks.
“i think we’re meant to be.”
you faltered slightly, for you felt a rush of deja vu hit you like a stifling wave.
“have we met?” you teasingly asked. “before you died?”
he laughed and shook his head.
you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, beetlejuice still tracing the lines and indentations of your hand before you spoke up again.
“i have a question.”
his content eyes switched to yours before they looked back down. “yes sweets?”
“is your name really beetlejuice?”
he weirdly stopped, and you quirked a brow.
“it’s…” he swallowed. “it’s not.”
“oh what the?” you paused, a little puzzled. “where did it come from?”
“juno.” he snickered. “the old hag said it fit how bizarre and stupid i was, so she put it in my contract.”
“oh my fucking god.” you mumbled. “why the hell would she do that? that’s cruel… you’ve already paid the price for what you did the least she could do is address you by your given name.”
beetlejuice laughed cutely, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you.
“that woman doesn’t care baby… so don’t sweat it.” he lifted a hand and ruffled your hair. “and if you ask me, she needs to retire immediately. like— yesterday. all she does is fucking nag at me and the rest of her damn clients.”
you giggled.
“so what’s your name then?”
“not important! now i say we figure out a way to get out of this rinky dink model—”
your eyes narrowed.
“why won’t you tell me your name?”
“—or maybe we should just stay and make ourselves at home!—”
“you won’t tell your soon to be wife your name?—”
“—oh! oh! i can manifest a little jacuzzi in the middle of the cemetery that’s neat—”
you slapped a hand over his mouth and he stopped, your pleading little eyes making him guiltily melt against your hold.
“your name.” you urged softly, lowering your hand and revealing a little frown that he had on his lips. “please.”
“i—” he blinked, utterly remorseful. “i can’t… i can’t tell you my name.”
your brows pinched. “why not? is part of your contract?”
“no— well yes.” he sighed deeply through his nose, and you wondered why he looked so… strained.
“it’s not their contract, but my contract… with you.”
you froze.
“with—” you struggled. “i don’t—”
he rubbed his tired sunken eyes.
“it’s okay sweets but that’s all you need to know—”
“no.” you replied firmly. “what i need to know is your name.”
he dropped his arms and shook his head desperately. “y/n please i put that contract on you to protect you if— if i tell you my name you’ll be hurt and i don’t want that—”
“what do you mean?” you bitterly scooched away from him on the bench and he stubbornly moved closer, eliminating the distance you had created.
“i lied when you asked me if we had met.”
your heart dropped.
“because we have… and i— i wanted you to forget me so i took away your memories and if i tell you my name—”
he swallowed hard.
“… it’ll break the contract. and you’ll remember me again.”
you stared at him, his regretful tortured gaze so anguishing that it was almost unbearable to watch him endure it, wanting to mend it instead, something that already felt so right and easy to you and in no way shape or form unfamiliar.
slowly, you reached up and cupped his cold cheeks in your hands, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.
“but i want to remember you…” you murmured. “…please let me.”
his pupils worriedly shook as they darted all around your striking features, his name practically hanging off the edge of his tongue but his throat physically unable to get the words out, for his dead heart was pulling and fighting with his vocal chords to prevent him from doing so, everything within him wanting to save you from memories he had to live with even after death.
but the other part of him was filled with such intense longing for you that it effortlessly slipped between the cracks of his defensive wall of not telling you his name…the relentless feeling going straight to his heart and mind and strangling the fuck out of it to get a formidable yes instead.
he wanted the life he once had. more than anything.
“satoru.”
something snapped in your brain and you flinched back, memories flooding through your mind faster than the speed of light as you recollected each and every moment in your existence, for the sentiment of vacancy and like a specific thing was just missing in your life was finally put back in its rightful place— for the thing that was missing in particular was him.
satoru gojo.
there were images of meeting him when you were both itty bitty in middle school under a magnolia tree, him sporadic and silly and making you laugh so hard on the third day of school that strawberry milk blew out of your nose and all over his clothes, satoru not having a care in the world as he cackled along with you and thought the way you made liquid come out of your nose was cool.
and there were images of the both of you becoming the best of friends— never one without the other as you pulled pranks on your teachers and ended up in detention together almost everyday, your parents utterly done with you as you never seemed to get it through your head how to behave, the both of you brushing off your scoldings and lectures because you had each other to endure all of it with.
and you saw how much he cared about you.
how he would physically fight and yell and reprimand anyone who called you a freak, anyone who spread rumors about you and your psychic medium abilities as he constantly reminded you everyday that your gift was sacred… a treasure while he wiped your tear stained cheeks and cheered you up after another day of your classmates poking fun at you, him saying that your skills were the coolest and how much he wished he was just like you, how much you both were meant to be as he loved ghost stories and scary stuff.
you saw how you fell in love too.
and it didn’t take long either, as your stolen glances and teasing turned into much more as soon as you grew and went to high school together, the both of you making it official literally your freshman year despite the apprehensions from your parents on both sides because of how young you were.
but it never proved to be an issue, you and satoru not once stumbling over a hiccup since the two of you had built such a strong foundation of genuine friendship and care before you blessedly fell in love, satoru throughout your years together absolutely smitten over you as he always passed you silly notes during class that had a gazillion hearts scribbled all across with your name in the middle, telling you all of the time just how much he loved and cherished you to the point where you had to funnily push him away from you to get him to stop smothering you, you always giving in anyways due to the fact that you were just as smitten, physically unable to go a day without him, and him still physically unable to not iterate how you were meant to be.
satoru understood you, satoru listened to you, and satoru believed you whenever you would speak on your psychic gift and how you had spoken casually to a spirit just the other day, him always interested and unbelievably amazed at everything you had to say as he bombarded you with fifty questions and begged you to teach him how to see spirits too.
he was respectful and supportive of you through it all.
especially when your parents died.
satoru wouldn’t leave your side. he refused to as you tried to piece together what the fuck had just happened, their accident so sudden and weird that it never made sense to you and still didn’t to this day.
and you grieved of course, cried and weeped and clung to satoru like a moth to a flame, feeling alone and without your biggest support system— without your loving peculiar parents that gave you your priceless gift in the first place, him accepting your tears with open arms as he encouraged you to let it all out and was worried for you when it seemed like you had moved on rather quickly from it.
but it was simply because your parents weren’t afraid of the afterlife. it was because your parents had talked so much about it and taught you everything that they knew, that you were convinced their souls peacefully made it through to the great beyond straight away and together, for you never saw their spirits roaming around aimlessly after and feeling eternally grateful for that, your whole life being about acknowledging and embracing the mysteries of life after death.
the knowledge of knowing they were at peace was enough to get you by for a little while.
satoru continued to check in on you about it though... even when it was the end of your junior year and nearing a year since their passing, his parents kindly taking you in after the ordeal and making satoru sleep on the floor and you taking over his bed since they didn’t have an extra room, satoru doing it without even needing to be told and you thanking all of them any chance you got for their amicable kindness and tried to pay them back, satoru checking in on you every night with a series of timid ‘are you okay’s’ and ‘are you happy’s’ before going to bed, your arm dangling off the edge so you could intertwine your fingers while you slept.
you were never alone like you thought you were. ever.
because of satoru.
and he made it obvious that he wanted to marry you too, that he wanted to have you for the rest of his life and didn’t give a single shit if you were both only 18 and barely starting college, him deeming it pointless for the both of you to pretend like the hope of marriage wasn’t there just for the sake of shutting up his parents, as every time he brought it up you stammered and blushed and fidgeted and he only giggled at you, telling you it would happen soon, to be ready, and to sit pretty and patient until the right time came.
except it never did.
because satoru gojo died a year later following that on halloween, precisely on his way over to your dorm when he was snatched by an unknown man and murdered in the middle of the night, you stuck wondering what had happened to him and why he wasn’t answering the phone when he was hours late to come get you, your chest on fire and aching as the feeling in your gut was weirdly excruciating, a part of you completely torn away and lost and you had no idea why until the very next morning.
and he had to watch you mourn. properly this time and not at all like the way you did for your parents, as this time it was fucking worse, painfully and all alone and for no way for him to get to you and comfort you— to tell you it was okay to cry and that he loved you, to tell you to be happy, to be hopeful for the future and hopeful to the thought of spending the rest of your lives together and being meant to be.
but instead he had to watch you wail and scream in your pillow every night with no saving, clutching his clothes and things and picture frames, you making yourself sick as the grief was too much to bare— everything that your parents had said to you and taught you about the afterlife meaning absolutely jack shit as the workings of supposed fate took away the only thing that ever made you happy.
satoru’s dream was to live with you. and it was taken away from him so brutally that he went absolutely nuts in the netherworld.
because yes he violated every single fucking undead law in the book and jumped over restricted gates and strange passage ways and doors, shoved through emotionless security guards, ignored juno’s warnings, and yes he tricked a living human being so he could exchange souls with him—
all for the sole purpose of getting back to you.
it was always for you.
and now, him sitting next to you with an anxious waiting expression, your body and mind now feeling the effects of not having seen him for three entire years and the way your conscious mind grieved for him and his return, his skin sickishly pale and cold but still so handsome nonetheless… absolutely broke you.
it broke you as you let out a strangled hiccup and covered your mouth tightly with both hands, eyes squeezing painfully shut as you reeled over and wailed with a broken heart, for you were mourning the loss of him all over again.
“baby no please—” he quickly caught you and brought you to his chest, his breathing erratic and with the biggest lump in his throat. “see? i didn’t want you to remember i— i wanted you to forget—
you continued to bawl and borderline scream out in agony, his words meaning absolutely nothing at this moment as your mind wouldn’t quit flashing painful memories through your mind, memories that were once entirely missing as they suffocated you with displays of satoru in his grave over and over and over again.
“i can’t—” he frantically looked around for something, anything that would make you feel better before looking back down. “look at me—”
“why did you leave?!” you wailed, pushing him away as the sight of you drowning in your tears ripped him to shreds. “why did you abandon me toru?! why did you—”
“i’m sor—” his voice gave out and he placed a hand over his heart, tears slipping from his eyes. “i’m sorry i’m so sorry i— i never wanted to leave—”
he reached out and tugged you in again, your body slumping against his as he struggled over his sobs.
“i didn’t want to die i tried so hard not to die—”
his words only made you cry harder as he gripped you tighter and shut his mouth, his frame trembling against yours and his tears trickling down and wetting your hair.
“you left me! you were supposed to come— hic— to come get me! you were supposed to marry me!—”
you were babbling mindlessly at this point, your shattered heart taking over the words that were tumbling out of your mouth as you gripped and clawed at his suit, trying to bury yourself in his skin and stay there where you belonged.
he was too cold. and you couldn’t hear a heart beat.
satoru could only cry and bawl with you as he gently rocked you side to side, knowing that there was nothing he could do to make you feel better, and nothing he could do to come back to life.
no matter how much he wanted it.
no matter how much you wanted it.
this is what fate had decided for the two of you.
“i tried so hard.” he mumbled. “i never stopped trying to get to you that’s why juno hates me so much because i’ve violated fucking everything.”
he pressed his lips to your forehead and laid his cheek on it after.
“i got sent to the attic and i couldn’t look after you anymore and i didn’t even get the chance to let you see me either—”
besides the fact that he took your memories, that explained why you never saw his spirit after he died, and you quickly pulled back again and narrowed your bloodshot eyes at him.
“why did you take my memories i never— hic!— i never asked you to i never wanted—”
“because i didn’t want you to grieve over me pretty…” he gently wiped your cheeks while you cried. “you were hurting so much and it was torture watching you suffer like that.”
you sniffled and wiped your eyes with the base of your palm.
“i wanted to see you happy…” satoru finished off.
“was i?”
he dropped his hands and frowned.
“were you?”
“no!” you muttered. “my entire life i’ve felt like something was missing and i didn’t know why… like this— this block in my brain that i couldn’t figure out and it was always just empty and like something was supposed to be there.”
you tucked your hair behind your ear and solemnly looked down, a pulsing headache racking through you from how much you were crying.
“i had to live with the fact that i was alone and that i never had anyone… and i had accepted that too… only this entire time i did have someone. you.”
and oddly enough, through everything that happened— all of the memories that you now remembered and the devastating death of your late boyfriend, you finally felt a little bit less strange and unusual.
because you always thought that something was wrong with you for feeling the way that you did, for craving something— someone that never existed, for wanting to fill the void that you now know satoru once happily sat in, all of these things now officially clicking into place and bringing you the weirdest sense of peace you had probably ever felt.
“i wish you never made me forget.” you mumbled. “you’re worth remembering toru…. even if it hurts me.”
he guiltily nodded and sniffed. “m’sorry… i thought you were better off forgetting.”
a part of him still does, because the small glimpses he caught of you no longer crying and just simply living after he took your memories away, was enough to bring him a tiny sense of relief just before he got banished to the attic, hopeful that you would live a long and happy life even if it was painfully without him.
but the minute he sensed you coming up to the house earlier that night with him thinking he was going absolutely insane and if it was truly you, was also enough to send all of that out the fucking window and falling back into a pit of despair and longing for you when he finally saw you again— for the first time in three years, looking just as pretty as he remembered and a little more grown up.
you slowly shook your head side to side, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck and him immediately responding, snaking them around your waist and pulling your warm beating body flush against his chest.
“do you still love me?” he murmured. “even though i’m dead?”
you slightly snorted, softly kissing his cheek.
“i’ll always love you toru. wherever you are.”
“i’ll always love you.”
he pulled back and gently smiled, eyes flickering to your soft lips as he juggled in his mind if it was okay to kiss you, every fiber of his undead being begging for it after missing and wishing it for so long, left with only recollections of your kisses to suffice through the years that he spent without you and wondering if he still had the right to— since even though you were once his, and he shamelessly still considered you his, he didn’t know if you were on the same page.
but you were.
it would be stupid not to be.
you leaned your pretty little face closer to his, timid doe eyed gaze looking at him so fondly that it brought back that same familiar feeling he felt with you those years ago, his hands coming up and settling themselves on your warm lively cheeks, holding you like fragile porcelain.
but were his dead lips still worthy of yours? even after everything he’d done?
“toru.”
he hummed.
“do you remember our first kiss?”
“uh huh.” he breathed out softly. “it was in my room.”
“i think—” your nose brushed with his. “i think we should have our second first kiss.”
he bit his bottom lip and smiled.
“you think so?”
“i do.”
he hummed again, his thumb gently grazing over your plushy lips.
“i think it should look a little more like the first time.”
he tilted his head to the side a tiny bit and a delicate gust of wind brushed through your hair, your surroundings now completely and miraculously morphed into his room with the both of you sitting on his bed— just like how you remembered it and basically had grown up in as you slowly took in your surroundings.
“how the fuck—”
he laughed a little, lifting one hand and keeping the other still on your cheek, his index finger lightly tapping the center of your forehead.
“mind manipulation pretty.” he grinned. “cool huh? i poked in your head again.”
“yeah!” you giggled. “very cool.”
“you know what else would be cool?”
“what?”
“if you gave me a little kiss.”
you tilted your head to the side and leaned in again, your breath fanning across his face and your lips so close but not quite that it was fucking excruciating.
“you want a kiss toru?”
“uh huh.”
“how bad— mmph!—”
satoru didn’t even let you finish that sentence as he stuffed his tongue in your mouth greedily, wet and messy kisses smacking through the room as he cradled your jaw, cold lips delving all over yours and him giddy over the sensation of your warm mouth in comparison to his, your hands clutching his blazer and making out so sensually as you made up for the time that was stolen from you.
and the only thing the two of you felt in each others arms then was serenity— one pumping, working heart and the other stiff, unmoving and cold, still equally beating for one another even through the restrictions of death, for satoru’s heart continued to move and love you regardless of how lifeless it may have appeared.
he suddenly pulled away, breathless.
“sweets?”
“yeah?”
“where in the actual fuck did you meet rin?”
you laughed, pulling back a bit to look at him with a regretful look. “knowing what i know now, i’m sick to my stomach toru.”
“did you meet him after i died?”
you nodded. “he was in one of my literature classes… and since back then i only remembered living my life— alone, i guess he was the first person that didn’t make me feel that way. at the start.”
“lame.” he mumbled. “you cheated on me sweets.”
“no!” you laughed again, giving him a little pout. “he was awful. horrendous. and i only stayed because i didn’t wanna be alone again… even though i shouldn’t have.”
you leaned and gave him a soft tiny lingering peck.
“did you love him?” he murmured against your lips, and you shook your head.
“remembering you again made me realize what being in love with someone was supposed to feel like.” you reached and brushed through the front stands of his white hair mindlessly. “and it was no where near what i felt for rin. i didn’t feel anything for him actually.”
he pursed his lips to the side, eyes squinting in thought and distaste.
“hmmm…”
you giggled. “what toru?”
he hated that you got associated with a guy like that, and hated even more that rin was kissing and hugging and touching you whenever the fuck he wanted when you were his first.
“i’m gonna haunt him for the rest of his life.”
you playfully rolled your eyes and nudged him. “honestly? do it. he sucks.”
“and you know what else sweets?”
you quirked a little brow. “what?”
“i’m gonna make you forget!”
“toru!” you giggled. “no more taking memor—“
satoru leaned his face closer to yours and you froze up, wide eyed as a little mischevious glint in his vibrant blue gaze made you fidget.
he slowly grinned and tilted his head, lips coming closer to the side of your ear and tantalizingly hovering, arms snaking around your torso and pulling you up against him.
“did you let him touch you pretty?”
“t—touch?—”
“mhm.” he gripped you a little tighter. “did you?”
“um.” you squirmed a bit, your body turning hot in the matter of seconds. “what— what do you mean—”
“did you let him fuck you.”
your breath hitched and your cheeks went pink, hands timidly resting flat on his chest and feeling a little… guilty.
“maybe—” you paused, shaky breaths blowing through your nose. “maybe once—”
satoru shot up to stand and hauled you with him, a squeal slipping past your lips as he hiked you up and brought your legs around his waist, walking across the room in quick strides and plopping you down roughly on his desk, kicking away his chair and it slamming against the wall as it rolled back.
“toru?—”
“why can’t i make you forget… hm?” he grazed his lips from your jaw and up the side of your cheek, feather like as he squeezed and kneaded at your thighs, your heart fucking hammering against your chest.
“why would you wanna remember being with someone else other than me baby…”
“i— i don’t but you erased my memories—”
he pulled back and tutted, head shaking and fingers drumming against your thighs. “doesn’t matter! should’ve avoided them like the plague silly.”
you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him gently in.
“i would’ve if i remembered.”
“remember this remember that—” he smiled brightly and brought his face close to yours once more.
“y’know what?” he cutely pecked your lips. “i’m gonna help you remember something!”
your brows pinched momentarily in curiosity. “what?”
“that i’m the only man that ever gets to fuck you.”
satoru smashed his lips against yours and pulled you in tight, the bulge in his dress pants abundantly obvious as he grinded and rutted his aching cock on your clothed pussy, you gasping in his mouth at the feeling as you tried to keep up with his feverish fast kisses.
he slipped his icy hands underneath your top and you jumped at the change in temperature, satoru ravishing you up and obsessed with the heat your body produced and radiated, leaving him toasty for once and bringing a faux sense of life to him.
“did you forget that too?” he murmured against your lips, hands ever so slowly creeping up and sliding under your bra to grope your plump tits. “how i feel?”
“nuh uh.” you breathed out. “i didn’t—”
“tell me what you remember then sweets…”
he slid his hands back down and hiked your skirt up, you lifting your hips a little to help him bring it up as high as he possibly could, your pretty little panties tight and suffocating your pussy as his fingers came down to play with your swollen needy clit.
“i remember—” your mouth hung open, words lodging in your throat.
“hm?” he shoved his hand in your panties and your eyes fluttered closed, him placing open wet mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, your mind unable to grasp the amount of pleasure he was getting out with simply just his fingers, pleasure you missed so fucking badly as he slipped his digits up and down your folds.
“your dick—” satoru pushed two fingers inside of you and you whined. “i remember the way you felt.”
“yeah?” he pulled back from your chest and grinned, fingers squelching as they pumped in and out. “and how did i feel?”
“big.” you choked out, legs spreading wider as you gripped the edge of his desk, his frenzied lust filled eyes drinking in the way you unraveled and crumbled before him.
something he was positive rin didn’t even come fucking close to.
“aww.” he cooed, digits speeding up as you squealed and tried to close your legs, him prying them open again. “bet you missed the way i filled you full huh? stretched you out so good?”
you rapidly nodded, eyebrows contorted in ecstasy as your thighs shook.
“anything else you missed baby?”
arousal trickled down your folds at this point, making an absolute mess out of his fingers.
“your hands— heave— on my neck when you’d fuck me—”
a shiver ran down his spine at your words, his cock so fucking hard and aching as it begged him to let it spring free and bury itself in your hole.
“my god…” he whispered. “i bet your slutty little self wants me to fuck you right now right? stuff you up and make you cum on my dick like i used to?”
with each word your hole was clenching and screaming for his cock, your hands quickly shooting out to pull and unbuckle at his belt, him laughing as he continued to finger your pussy while loosening up the collar of his tie.
“you’re so needy.”
you pouted, embarrassed as you pulled your hands away and brattily tugged at his wrist to take his fingers out.
“i take it back—”
“no!” he quickly yanked his belt off and flung it, his fingers unzipping his pants and taking out his solid dick. “hell no please i need to be inside you—“
he lined his cock up and without warning pushed, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for support and crying out at the mere size of him, his dick icy in between your gummy walls that somehow added a whole new wave of pleasure for you.
“hard toru.” you whined. “please i can’t— i—”
“i know baby i know.” he gripped your hips and snapped his hips up, your moans fueling him as he plunged in your hole and took no time in fucking you in just the way he knew you liked it, proud of the fact that your pussy still took every single inch of him like he’d trained you— almost like she recognized whose dick was actually for you and not some other fucking morons.
“you’re not screwing anybody else anymore, you hear me sweets?” he tapped your cheek to get you to look at him, you completely dazed and fucked out as you tried to hold eye contact with him amidst his drilling cock. “should’ve only been me… living or dead i don’t care.”
you nodded dumbly, you leaning and kissing him sloppily and desperately that you muffled his next words, refusing to detach from his mouth.
“did you— mmph— let him cum inside?”
you didn’t answer, not because you were afraid to, but because his dick was silencing you as you hiccuped and spasmed with every slam of his hips, satoru a horny goner and pinning everything all on you even when it was literally his fault he erased your memories in the first place, fuming over the thought of you tainted by another man that he wanted to perform a full fucking cleanse.
he rammed inside of you faster against the desk as you separated from his lips and clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“don’t tell me you let him cum inside you little slut—”
“i didn’t!” you heaved. “i didn’t i didn’t—”
“good baby!” he cheered, a complete contrast to his menacing tone from seconds before. “so you do love me.”
“i do! i love you i love you i love yo—”
his unbeating heart soared.
“you love me?”
“uh— hic!— uh huh—“
“even when i’m dead?”
you nodded vigorously, feeling your orgasm starting to bubble up in your tummy as you choked and squirmed.
“perfect my sweet little thing…” he cooed once more, him literally lightheaded over the way you clenched around his cock. “make a mess all over me baby i’ve been dreaming of your cute cunt for three fucking years—”
you wrapped your arms around him by the neck again and moaned, burying your face in his neck as he placed two palms on your bent knees and spread your plushy thighs further apart, jack hammering you and so mean about it as you shook violently against him and came, heaves and sobs of pleasure racking through your body as he threw his head back and groaned.
“you want me to cum inside you?” he asked. “fill you up just like i used to?”
“yes! please please—”
“oh fucking well.”
he pulled out of you and your eyes bulged open, his dick shiny and covered in your juices as he grabbed your upper arm and yanked you down on your knees.
“you’re gonna suck me off and swallow what i give you for letting rin’s filthy hands on you.”
satoru tapped his dick against your cheek to get you to open up, you listening and opening your mouth as he shoved his cock inside and placed a hand on the back of your head, fucking your mouth as you choked and gagged on his length and loving every second of it.
“goooddd baby.” he whispered, your slobbering so nasty as he watched drool dribble down your chin. “so good…”
you gulped him down and lathered your tongue around while he used you, his balls swollen and twitching and him needing to dump his cum in your mouth for you to swallow.
“remember when we used to do this every night?” he smiled wickedly. “when i’d make you swallow me up?”
you hummed around him and tried to nod, eager for his release and wanting to show him that you in fact did remember— wanting it just as bad as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him harder.
“h— oh my god—” he fisted your hair and shivered, letting you take over and milk him for all his worth. “i’m gonna— jesus baby slow— slow down slow down— hah!”
satoru’s release shot to the back of your throat and you choked, blinking back tears as you gradually slowed your pace and continued to deliciously suck him through his orgasm and gulp down his cum, him with a death grip on the edge of his desk as he heaved and swallowed, hips jittery and twitching away from you— tip now overly sensitive.
you licked up the last of his cum and stood back up, shimming your skirt back down and satoru shakily stuffing his softened dick back in his pants and zipping it, eyes softening once you reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his over your waist and squeezing you gently.
“so you’re telling me.” you began. “that you haven’t had sex in three years and you fucked me like that?”
he snickered and smoothed a hand over your back. “it’s my instinct sweets! and also because i’m sure rin did a horrendous freaking job—”
you laughed and rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek before looking at him fully.
“i’m serious you know.”
he raised a brow. “about what?”
“about marrying you. even more so now.”
and just when he was about to pick you up and spin you around and jump up and down, he stilled— face sickishly paling more than it already was.
because satoru was keeping something else from you… a condition between the living and the dead and one he overlooked entirely because he was selfishly desperate for you and just wanted you with him again, like the way he had you when he was alive.
“what toru?”
“huh?” his eyes snapped to yours, and he quickly shook his head. “oh nothing nothing!”
his mind was frantically pushing it to the back, ignoring it and wanting to go through with the one thing he’d practically been dreaming of his entire living and dead life— marriage with you.
this was fine. this was okay.
right?
“white or black.”
you tilted your head. “what?”
“you’ll see… but choose!” he grinned. “white or black?”
a slow giddy smile grew on your face.
“black.”
satoru waved his hand and you stilled, the clothes on your skin changing and morphing into something completely anew, your eyes landing on his black and white button up suit now and head quickly dropping down to yourself— gasping once it registered in your flabbergasted brain.
you were wearing a black wedding gown, beautiful and classy as you picked up and felt the soft silk material between your fingertips, your tule sheer veil intricate as you looked behind you then— it long and stretching for what seemed like miles across the floor with gorgeous embroidery at the base of it.
it was heavenly.
your gaze snapped back to his, and he smiled fondly, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers.
“three times.” he murmured, and you picked up on what he was referring to, tightening your grip on his hand and nodding.
“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice.”
and the room spun around you, so astronomically fast that you almost doubled over in stifling nausea as the wind whipped through your hair and veil, expecting to land in the attic and finally outside that damn model when in reality, you were in a church cathedral as soon as your surroundings had stopped spinning… and one that looked exactly like the one in winter river.
“are we…” you looked around. “are we still in the model?”
he shook his head. “nope! i was focusing my mind here when you were saying my name… we’re in winter river baby.”
you smiled, the atmosphere around you soft and serene as the dimly lit candles around you quietly flickered, a random lilac colored hue across the cathedral and one you assumed was placed by satoru himself as he took your hands in his, almost in a haste too, but choosing to brush the observation aside.
this was wrong… and satoru knew it.
but he pushed it to the back of his head again.
“we are gathered here today—”
“shit!”
you jumped and whipped your head to the side, breathing out and shoulders relaxing once you saw it was just your church’s pastor that you’d known since birth— a strange far off look in his eye that you deemed to be something that satoru did, for there was no way he was up at the crack of fucking dawn right now to do a wedding.
“sorry!” you laughed. “is he… is he okay?”
“oh yeah he’s fine! he’s actually still sleeping.” he let go of one of your hands and patted the pastors head. “i’m manipulating his head for a little bit. just until you’re my wife.”
his wife.
you nodded, cheeks so warm as you tried to refrain from jumping over how excited you were at the thought of finally fulfilling the vows you had placed on each other when you were young— them now nurturing into something real.
“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the love of satoru gojo and y/n y/m in holy matrimony.”
he shouldn’t do this to you.
“today, they declare their intention to build a life together, sharing their joys and their challenges, and supporting one another in pursuit of their dreams.”
he can’t— he can’t build a life with you… can he?
he pushed his worries back again and gripped your hands tighter.
“do you, satoru gojo, take y/n y/m to be your lawfully wedded wife? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”
this is wrong.
but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
“i do.”
“and do you, y/n y/m, take satoru gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”
for as long as you both shall live.
satoru can’t live.
“i d—”
“stop.”
you froze.
“what?” you asked worriedly. “what’s wrong?”
“i’m no better than the man i was when i first died.”
the look in his eyes was… odd, and it only further confused you.
“i don’t—”
“i can’t let you marry me baby.”
your heart dropped.
“what?”
“i told you that if you married me it would break my contract and i would be a free man and that’s true…” he began. “but there’s something else that i didn’t tell you... i— i kept it from you.”
oh fuck.
“what are you talking about toru.” your voice was low and heedful, almost like a warning to him, and he wanted to slam his head against the wall for being so fucking reckless again.
“if you—” he breathed in and shook his head, letting go of your hands and letting his fall tight at his sides, balling up. “if you marry me, you’re freeing me…”
he gnawed at his lip.
“but i’m killing you.”
your blood ran cold and drained from your face, words entirely at a loss and useless as your brain tried to process what the fuck he just told you.
kill you?
“marrying me is like exchanging your soul with the dead.” satoru slowly shook his head. “you’ll die sweets… i can’t— i can’t do that to you.”
satoru was desperate to for you, so much so that he was willing to hide such a detrimental part of the marriage clause until the time came, choosing to play freaking stupid and tune it out in the hopes that in the end, he would be brave enough to go through with it just to keep you and not ever have to say goodbye again.
but it was wrong. so incredibly immoral and wrong and he felt like a monster for even trying to do it, for letting it go as far as it did and have you standing there in front of him in your pretty gown and veil— just like how he’d imagined it when his blood was pumping and his heart was beating, and just like how he’d imagined it even now, shriveled up dead veins and all.
this is what fate had chosen for the two of you.
and though it took forever for satoru to accept it… you and him were simply not meant to be.
for you were meant to live, and satoru was meant to die.
“you disgraceful bafoon! you insolent crook!”
the big doors of the cathedral kicked open and juno walked through, adam and barbara maitland running behind her and trying to pull her back, the both of them spouting reasonings and explanations.
“this is her choice juno!—”
“she wants to let her do it!—”
“the kid’s just in love!—”
“button it or i’m sending you back to the house!” juno grumbled at them, turning back around and pointing menacingly at satoru once she reached you both, her brittle old lady perfume wafting in your nostrils.
“juno!” satoru greeted with faux cheerfulness, eyes wide and alarmed. “good to see you hah! you look livelier than the last time i saw y—”
“what the hell do you think you’re doing boy?” she spat, eyes switching to you next. “and you! young lady— this man is a spirit!”
“i—i know—”
“juno they know each other.” barbara spoke up gently. “they grew up together when he was alive.”
“yes they were in a relationship this isn’t him trying to trick her into anything—”
“no but it is.” satoru exhaustedly whined, cutting adam off as he ran his hands through his snowy hair. “she didn’t know about the clause… i just told her now.”
silence.
“you didn’t tell her about the clause?!—”
“are you out of your mind you cockroach?!—”
“you’re doing what you did before!—”
“i know!” satoru exclaimed over the yells of scolding and belittlement. “i know i know that’s why i told her just now… i’m not letting her do it i— i couldn’t.”
he turned to you.
“baby i want you. i need you and that’s why i didn’t say anything like a fucking dingbat because i’m tired of living forever without you... it sucks.”
you felt tears prickle at your eyes.
“but this isn’t fair to you at all. you deserve to live man… i can’t— i won’t drag you down with me.”
“toru—”
“the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” juno interjected, her gaze looking at satoru sincerely for once that it was a strange sight for him.
she placed a hand on her chest. “i’m sorry that your love was separated by death, truly. i sympathize with you. i can’t think of anything more cruel.”
you both solemnly nodded.
“but the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” she repeated. “so even though you two move on from this and go back to being what you are, satoru will stay like this and you will not. you will grow.”
juno addressed you directly and you listened with a heavy heart— the use of satoru’s actual given name now from her instead of ‘beetlejuice’ adding a layer of somber seriousness.
“and let’s just say this clause didn’t exist and you get to marry her and she stays alive… satoru will still stay and you will grow. do you both understand what i’m trying to say?”
you quickly wiped the corner of your eyes, satoru peeking over at you sadly.
“i won’t tell you what i think the right choice is young lady.” she continued. “the dead aren’t even supposed to associate with the living like this… but weigh the consequences of either path and see which one you want to walk in.”
she stepped a bit closer, holding eye contact with you.
“but let me make one thing clear— the power of the living is greater than the dead. if you choose to marry him, you will break his contract forever and free him of his violations. but if you do, you will die and be one of us.”
either path is difficult.
to sacrifice his freedom, or to sacrifice your life?
but you knew that a life without satoru was nothing and bleak…. you had lived it for three years.
were you willing to return to that? just to keep your heart beating? and say goodbye to satoru for good?
you didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have him in it. you didn’t want to live in a world where you remembered satoru for longer than you’d known him, and the thought only made you absolutely sick to your stomach as you envisioned the rest of your life without the person who knew you best.
it was almost easy… you didn’t have to weigh the consequences at all.
your path was satoru.
“we’re getting married.”
“what?!” satoru frantically shook his head. “no sweets no we’re not.”
“yes we are.” you pushed. “this isn’t for you to decide it’s my choice and i choose you—”
“and i’m not letting you.” he countered. “you’re choosing wrong so unbelievably wrong—”
“but i’m not though!” you argued. “literally explain to me right now how me stuck in a world that doesn’t have you in it is better than—”
“y/n you need to live.” he cut you off. “i died, not you it’s not supposed to be you alright? i can’t let you do this.”
tears slipped from your eyes and you wiped them right away.
“do you not— sniff— do you not want me do you want me to go away what—”
“no…” he stepped forward and cupped your cheeks. “that’s the last thing i want and you know that…”
“then why won’t you marry me?” you hiccuped. “why won’t you let me stay with you?”
“baby— life is so unbelievably precious.” he moved strands of your hair away from your face. “do you have any idea what i would give to have it again? to feel my body actually working for a change instead of it just being nothing?”
you continued to cry, your hands clutching his wrists.
“i don’t want you to take that away from yourself because of me… i want you breathing. i want your little heart pumping and your cheeks warm, i want you to move on.”
“i— hic!— i don’t want to move on from you—”
“you have to sweets.” he quickly wiped his eyes before cupping your cheeks again. “we’re not meant to be baby and i hate so much that we aren’t… and i’m sorry.”
“toru stop it—”
“please live for me okay? for the both of us. and don’t forget me either please don’t forget me—”
“why are you—” you harshly wiped your eyes. “why are you talking like that what are you doing—”
“i don’t think i should be around you anymore baby.”
“huh?!” your eyes narrowed. “are you serious?”
“satoru—”
juno raised a hand, stopping barbara from interjecting.
“it won’t be good for either of us if i stick around...” he sniffled. “i need to stay away from you because if i don’t, i might try to trick you again into giving up your soul and i can’t have that.”
“my soul?” you spat. “take it i don’t want it without you i told you already—”
“please try to understand.” he placed a soft kiss to your forehead. “please.”
“no—”
“i’ll see you soon okay?” satoru let go of your face. “graduate please. have kids and get married and stuff… travel.”
you were supposed to do all of that with him.
“satoru no listen to me!—”
“i love you.”
“stop!—”
satoru’s grief was monumental, but his love for you was greater, choosing to let you go for the sake of your life.
he looked to juno and she sighed through her nose, somehow knowing exactly what he was silently asking for, stepping forward and lifting a hand.
“satoru please i wanna stay with you!—”
juno sharply moved her hand to the side and you were pulled to a blinding white abyss, dream like and fuzzy as you felt all muscles in your body relax, your mind completely blank and free of the heartbreak and loss and sorrow for a little, floating through a cloud of soft serenity as it brought you in and tried to clear the pain in your heart.
you weren’t aware of where you were or what juno had done, but your thoughts were distant and muffled as you let it engulf you entirely in its welcoming arms, you sleepy and drowsy until the blinding white abyss slowly shrunk down to a pure black, quiet void, the nerves in your body twitching little by little until you were finally consciously aware of your limbs and mind, but you too tired still to open your eyes.
you cruelly dreamed of satoru still. of him alive.
and you weren’t sure how long you had been in this weird pit of tranquility, or how long you were asleep for until you were jerked awake and ripped from it entirely.
“hey— y/n?”
you shot awake, sitting up and whipping your head around.
you were back in your dorm.
“are you okay? why are you sleeping on the floor?”
you looked up, your roommate standing there with a weirded out expression.
“and what are you wearing?”
your gaze shifted downward, and the minute you saw your black wedding dress and veil folded neatly next to you, memories of what had happened hours prior came achingly flooding in as you scrambled to stand up on your feet, scaring your roommate and leaving her to grumble in her head about how she wished the system didn’t put her to room with the campus ghost girl.
“sorry! i have to go thank you though for waking me u—”
your voice trailed off down the hall, you running through and ignoring the weirded out looks from other students as you sprinted out of the building and down the street, engulfing the skirt of your gown up in your arms so you wouldn’t accidentally trip over it and eat shit on the ground, the goal of getting back to the maitland’s house the only thing on your mind as you ran.
your lungs burned by the time you got to the bottom of the hill, and you thanked anyone that was willing to listen for allowing winter river to exist as the smallest town you had ever known, sparing you from running a full fledged marathon just to get to the house as you heaved and tried to catch your breath, a little sweaty and hot as you began the hike up the hill.
you hoped he was there.. in the attic.
you hoped to god that he was.
reaching the top, you continued to trudge across the dirt driveway and up the porch steps, your foot lifting and just about to make contact with the old wooden platform until an invisible force grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, literally dragging you away from the house and down the hill over the grass as you screamed and thrashed for it to let you go.
satoru.
and you tried again, hiking up the hill with your bundled up wedding skirt in your arms, reaching the top faster than last time and choosing to run up the porch steps instead to see if you could outrun his ghostly abilities.
except you couldn’t, because the invisible force caught you by the ankle again just as your fingers grazed the doorknob, yanking you away and down the hill until it left you screaming and huffing in frustration at the bottom.
you continued to do that for the rest of the fucking day, and everyday for that matter, for an entire week straight.
walking up the hill, reaching the top, getting reeled back, running up the hill and getting sent back down again, sprinting for it only to get dragged away once more as the repeated cycle you had set for yourself happened over and over, until by your last attempt you couldn’t even walk up the hill anymore, satoru having put a huge invisible wall around the house that was impossible to get through.
you were angry. angry and bitter that he was doing this.
was it so bad to just want to spend the rest of your undying life with him? is that not what he wanted this entire time? why was he so adamant on damning you to live a life of suffering and— and loneliness? a life without him?
you didn’t know what to do. your psychic abilities were only for sensing the dead and being able to see them— nothing to do with calling forth spirits or summoning them at any given place and time, so there was no way for you to call satoru no matter how much you wanted to or tried.
and you cried. you cried and you sobbed just like how you did when he first died, except somehow worse knowing that there was a chance to be together with him forever and him not wanting it… not wanting you.
but you waited anyways, hoping that he would come around and change his mind, that he would bring down that stupid invisible wall and let you inside the house and back to him, counting down the days and hours and minutes until it became clearer to you that satoru wasn’t going to change his mind.
and by the third week, you had almost entirely given up.
you felt nothing. absolutely nothing as you slugged through your classes or your day to day errands, not giving a shit about anything that you had to do in this world for you had always loved the other world more— the world of spirits and the netherworld and the great beyond, the world that had satoru in it, as you appreciated and admired that one more ever since you were a kid with your parents… more than the one you were currently in— as this one was filled with ignorance and criticism.
you felt helpless… and maybe satoru was right.
if he was willing to give up an opportunity to keep you forever, then maybe that’s just the way it goes… maybe you should just accept it, and you choosing to think of the latter instead of begging and kneeling at nothing for satoru to come back and get you and marry you— was helping the bitterness in your heart grow and get you by, it at least stopping you from crying in the middle of your lectures or the grocery store and weirding people out anyways.
maybe you should accept the fact that you and him were not meant to be.
after an entire month, you had given up.
and satoru’s grave was the closest you knew you’d get to him, permanently divided by dirt and soil and grass… six feet under and totally out of your reach, his tombstone engraved and pretty and one you couldn’t believe you had forgotten about as it sat here alone for years right under your nose— you visiting it now for the millionth time as you placed your book bag down and sat criss crossed on the grass, mindlessly tugging and breaking off pieces of it as you sat there.
you sighed deeply and hugged your knees up to your chest, the day surprisingly a sunny one as chirping birds flittered past you through the wind, tiny little white butterflies occasionally stopping by to sit on your arm or satoru’s tombstone as you sat there in thought… not really sure what to think, but comforted by the fact that the engravings on his stone reminded you that he was once very much alive and real.
there was an odd wavering in your heart, and you had a feeling that this was going to be the last time you were visiting his grave, for you figured it was time to finally do what he wanted you to do— move on and forget him.
“don’t move on.”
you stiffened.
that voice… was your mind hallucinating now? jesus chri—
“don’t move on from me please… and— and don’t forget me. i take it all back.”
you heard footsteps draw nearer across the grass and you turned your head, eyes widening and unbelieving as you saw satoru standing there with a pleading anxious expression, him still dressed in his black and white suit that he had on for the wedding.
was it actually him?
“how are you…” you trailed off, your mind having difficulty processing how he was there. “how are you outside the house? i thought the contract—”
“juno gave me a hall pass…” he explained softly. “it expires at the end of the day.”
you hummed, itching to jump up and wrap your arms around him and cling to him, but stopping yourself from doing so as you still didn’t know why he was here, and you were quite frankly still bitter and hurt from him sending you away.
you slightly turned your body. “why are you here?”
“because i can’t stay away from you.”
your heart skipped a beat as he crouched down to your level, your eyes greedily running across every feature of his face and committing it to memory, as you now had him directly in front of you again instead of having to rely on recollections of him to try and mend your aching heart.
and satoru was doing the same.
“i started to sense you distancing from me and… and i had this feeling that you were starting to listen and move on and forget me and it made me fucking ill. which is crazy because i’m dead… but i was literally ill sweets.”
you let a tiny soft smile play at your lips.
“i can’t take it.” he spoke again, shaking his head. “i can’t take the thought of you forgetting me. not now, not ever, and i don’t know why i was stupid enough to try and convince myself that i could watch you do something like that even if its the right thing.”
“you sent me away.”
“i did baby…” he reached over and gently caressed your cheek. “and i regret that so fucking much. i’m sorry.”
“toru i need you to understand that you can’t make choices like that for me.”
“i know.” he mumbled and dropped his hand, eyes casting down. “i’m stupid.”
“but i also need you to understand, that i have no interest in living in a world that doesn’t have you in it… it’s not worth it now that you’re gone.”
you tilted your head to try and catch his gaze, continuing once his blue eyes flickered back to yours.
“i would die for you, and i would die without you. i look for you in everything that i do and you expecting me to just forget you is cruel.”
“no i don’t want you to forget me anym—”
“what’s life to you?” you asked him suddenly. “what does it feel to you? and mean?”
he stared at you with pinched brows, his face endearing but sad all at the same time.
“warm.” he murmured. “beautiful and… pure. it’s peaceful and it means you.”
your heart fluttered and you smiled, and satoru fell in love with you all over again— something you conquered when he was alive, and something you conquered again in death.
“that’s what life is toru.” you cupped his cheek. “to me it’s not— this.”
you gestured around you. “it’s not my body or my heart, it’s not the sun and it’s not breathing. it’s you. i feel life through you and i always have… because life doesn’t literally mean where i am now and neither does it mean the netherworld baby… it means you and me.”
satoru didn’t even realize he was crying until you wiped his cheeks, your words serving an entirely new perspective to him about the living and the dead and he felt peace.
because yes satoru was dead… but he was still living. living because he had you as the embodiment of it, and living because his soul still permitted him to see you again and be with you, to look at you with his own undead eyes and feel warmth like he did before.
but not literal warmth from your body or pumping blood or a beating heart.
but warmth from your soul. from who you are.
that’s what life was to him… and what life was to you.
satoru wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you to his chest, one hand on the back of your head as he cradled you and cried, finally now no longer mourning his past life like he’d been doing for the past three years, and no longer wishing for it back either or thinking that physically living in this world was the better option for you just because it meant you were breathing.
where he was, was just fine. and wherever you chose to go would be fine too.
but you chose to go with him, something that had been set since the moment you met under the magnolia tree back in middle school— living or dead, paris or italy, your choice would always and forever be him.
satoru proposed to you right then and there at his gravesite, flying to one knee as soon as you both stood back up and him manifesting the biggest diamond rock you had ever seen in your life, laughing and crying together as he slipped it over your ring finger, for your marriage meant the binding of the living and the dead, and the binding of you and him— a new beginning.
but this time your wedding wasn’t at the cathedral, but under the pretty magnolia tree where you had met, now accompanied by the maitlands as barbara cried, and juno as she herself officiated the wedding, you thinking— hoping that she grew a soft spot for satoru, and that behind her stern resting face, she was glad satoru was finally a free man and granted a second chance.
giving your soul up was nothing to you, and it didn’t hurt at all either… you feeling lighter in exchange actually… happy, with satoru standing in front of you and with a massive fucking grin on his face, shiny and bright as he practically jumped in his spot in excitement over you finally being his wife and that he got to keep you— and right this time… no lies or tricks or hidden secrets, but genuine authentic sacrifice instead, for it was the purest form of love.
because this is what fate had decided for the two of you.
it had decided that satoru gojo was meant to die… but it had also decided to bring you back to him as well— to the house of the maitlands, to the attic he was banished to, and back together again in each others cold arms where you belonged, defying the laws of the living and the dead and proving that life doesn’t end even after your hearts stopped beating.
fate had decided that you were both meant to be. that was always a fact.
and fate had decided that you and satoru gojo were meant to live, with unbeating hearts and icy cold skin, but souls still warm for each other nonetheless.
because through sickness and in health… death could not do you both apart.
you and satoru.
together for eternity.
Tumblr media
a lovely and incredibly beautiful fanart of this fic can be found here by @courtneedsleep !! <33
Tumblr media
taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @saelov3 @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever @yoonights @skendos @babylambdietcoke @yunstarz @dinomdubs @kalulakunundrum @s777athv @sugoroo @wastednightsonyou @miri222 @jayawaya @dazailover4ever @courtneedsleep @kcch-ns @halovianembrace @tsukuhoe @kayamor @lupicalbestwolf @therealkurapikakurta @amarahi123 @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic
4K notes · View notes
sukunasweetheart · 4 months ago
Text
Sukuna, a middle aged man jaded by the harsh realities of his life. He steps outside for a smoke nearby a convenience store, completely bored out of his mind.
A lady is handing out flyers nearby, although nobody is bothering to look her way, including sukuna himself.
You approach the man who's getting irritated by the lighter that refuses to work in his hand.
"Hello there, sir. Would you be interested in taking up classes for arts and craft?" You offer the cute flyer up.
Sukuna scoffs. Is she serious?
"No thanks."
"Are you sure? You look like you could use a bit more colour in your life."
He's too exhausted at this point to get angry at a random woman on the street.
"...You're not too far off, i suppose," sukuna mutters, still trying to get the spark to stay on his lighter. "Even so, I'm not interested in the likes of arts and craft. Do i look like a child to you?"
You withdraw your offer of your flyer, and inspect him for a moment.
"Arts and craft can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age. But moving past that... you seem a bit down. If you'd like to confide in a stranger for a night, I'm happy to listen."
What a strange, persistent woman. Sukuna gives up on his lighter, and takes out the unlit cigarette in his mouth to think back for a moment. One thing does come to mind.
"I'm not feeling down. But i remembered something, now that i think about it..." he confesses, feeling weirdly compelled to tell you about it.
"Today is supposed to be my birthday."
Birthdays have never been special to him. Nobody celebrated his birth as a child, and in turn, he's never paid attention to the birthdays of others.
"Oh, happy birthday. Are you doing anything special for yourself today?"
"No. I've never cared for birthdays. And I'm getting too old for that anyway."
"Well, that won't do... Hold on for a second."
Puzzled, sukuna looks back at you but you've already gone inside the convenience store. Whatever you're up to now, couldn't possibly be more enticing than getting in a proper smoke right now. Sukuna begins to zone out.
He only snaps out of it when something mildly cold grazes past his cheek, leaving a ticklish and moist sensation on his skin as it disappears upon impact.
Bubbles. Bubbles are flying past him, and floating away into the sky.
For a moment, he gets mesmerised by the swirl of colours that are harboured in each one. Even just from the light of this dingy street, they fly up while holding a multitude of different colours inside them. Time seems to slow for a split second, and he doesn't understand why.
His gaze follows the trail to identify it's source. And unsurprisingly, it's you, standing behind him. You blow a couple more out, and then grin at him childishly. He finally looks at your face properly for the first time.
"Birthday bubbles. For the birthday man," you chuckle sheepishly, knowing that you probably look a bit silly right now. You put the bubble wand back into the small bottle of the soapy mixture, and screw it tightly.
"Here, you can have it. Next time you're feeling a bit antsy, why don't you try blowing some yourself? They're pretty, aren't they?"
You also hand him a different small item.
"And i also threw in a little something else, while i was at it."
He looks down, and sees that it's a new lighter. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket to take both of them from your hands.
"I hope you get to do something more special next year. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, after all," you comment.
"Thanks for putting up with my nosiness. Farewell."
And then you leave him after a quick wave.
Sukuna stares wordlessly as you walk off, wondering what to name this ticklish feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.
The small bottle in his palm reminds him of a moment in his childhood. Kids in the park bragging about their bubble wands that were gifted to them. the laughs that resounded as they all ran off to catch the fragile spheres as they blew away in the wind. The tiny feelings of envy in his heart.
The item he tucks away into his pocket is the lighter. And when nobody is watching, he blows a couple more bubbles into the night sky.
-
Every time he passes by that convenience store, the thought of you comes to his mind. A flashback of your smile in the back of his mind. Every so often, he comes to this particular store. Despite having closer options, he comes to this specific one.
At times, sukuna regrets not taking one of the flyers that you were handing out. He wouldn't have had to mope around a convenience store in hopes of running into you again.
Today is a rainy day, and this calls for a hot piping cup of instant ramen. He doesn't usually enjoy convenience store food, but he wants a reason to stay around inside for a bit longer.
He needs to wait five minutes for the noodles to soften. In this time, he stares out the glass frame of the store, and watches the various rows of people walking past with their umbrellas opened.
There appears to be one anomaly in the crowd, however. Running without shelter from the rain, clutching her bag as if it contains something important in there. Sukuna realises that it's you.
Forgetting about his instant ramen, sukuna grabs his umbrella and dashes out the door.
You're mildly panicking about being stuck behind the red light at the zebra crossing without anything to save you from the rain, but the sensation of the droplets hitting your body come to a stop all too suddenly.
You look up, and there's a black umbrella sheltering you, big and strong looking. You spin around and recognise the stranger with pink hair and sharp eyes. Seemingly out of breath.
He signals to the light that has now turned green behind you, and ushers you forward to cross the road before you can say anything to him.
Now safely on the other side of the road, you begin to converse with him.
"It's you! Hello. Thank you for sheltering me. How have you been?"
"... So-so. Nothing's changed since the last time we met."
"I see. You look better than last time, though." You get the feeling that his eyes have a little more light in them.
Sukuna doesn't really get what you mean, but he moves on.
"What’s in your bag that's so important for you to be protecting it like that?" He asks, effectively changing the topic.
"Oh, this? I literally just bought some brand new origami paper... i can't risk getting them wet and unusable. The children would be disappointed."
"Origami, huh? How original."
"Hey! That's not all... there's a lot of options i offer them. They voted on origami this time."
"You got a lot of people signed up?"
"Not really... but I'm sure it'll start picking up soon. Slowly, one at a time."
You smile up at him hopefully.
"...is the offer still open?"
You cock your head to the side slightly, confused. Sukuna grits his teeth, feeling a little bashful about having to ask more specifically.
"You know. Lessons for grown adults."
"Oh! Of course, anytime! Would you like to come sign up today?"
"Do you offer one-on-one sessions too?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright. Let’s go."
Sukuna can't fathom the words that are coming out of his own mouth. But fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You've somehow intriged him, and he can't think of a better way to approach you.
You chatter his ears off along the way, and he nods along while his shoulder gets wet from the way he leans his umbrella closer to your side.
4K notes · View notes
finelinefae · 3 months ago
Text
safety [ceo!h x shy!reader]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: harry is always there to help bambi, always.
word count: 5.4k
contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), harry meets the family, crybaby reader lowkey
a/n: apologies for this taking so long. I've moved into university and switched courses within three weeks so I've had to do a lot of adjusting! But I hope you're doing well, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part of bambi and being so patient with this part <333
this is part 2 of bambi, read part 1 here
. . .
Y/N sighed as she stepped into the living room, her heart sinking at the sight of her mother passed out on the couch. It was Friday night, and her mom was still in her work uniform, one shoe barely hanging from her foot while the other lay haphazardly across the room. A wave of frustration and sadness hit her hard. She had begged her mom to take the day off to watch the boys so she could go on her date with Harry tonight—the date she’d been looking forward to all week.
This was supposed to be their third date, just before she started working with him at Pleasing this weekend. Their last date had been simple—strolling hand in hand by the river, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight was different. Harry had told her to dress up; he had something important to ask her and was taking her somewhere special. Y/N had been buzzing with excitement ever since.
Glancing at her phone, she felt the sting of tears. Halfway through her makeup, she now realized it didn’t matter—she’d have to cancel. With her mother out cold and no babysitter available at such short notice, the responsibility fell on her. And it was ruining everything.
She opened Harry’s contact on her phone, staring at the little pink heart next to his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button as doubt crept in. What if he never wanted to see her again after this? Cancelling last minute was embarrassing, and she dreaded how angry or disappointed Harry might be.
Her thumb pressed down, the ringing growing louder with each second. Anxiety gnawed at her as she picked at the skin around her nails.
Suddenly, the call connected, and Harry’s voice, smooth and soothing like a lullaby, poured through the speaker. “Bambi? Was jus’ about to pick y’ up. You missin’ me already?”
Her lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she sniffled. “Harry…” Her voice cracked.
“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” Concern filled his voice instantly, and the warmth of it made her chest tighten.
“I-I can’t go on our date tonight,” she confessed, her voice shaky.
“What d’you mean? Don’t be silly, is something wrong?” His slight panic was clear, making her feel even worse.
“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… my mom came home late, and she’s, um, not able to watch the boys, so I have to stay and babysit. I’m really sorry, Harry. I wanted to go tonight, I swear. I understand if you’re mad or—if you never want to see me again—”
“Woah, woah, Bambi, baby, stop panickin’. I don’t hate you, not at all. It’s closer to the opposite, so calm down, yeah? ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”
“Okay,” she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion. “Y’promise?”
“Five pinkie swears, baby,” he chuckled softly, making her giggle through the tears. “It’s alright. These things happen. But are you okay? Need me to grab you anything? Have y’eaten today?”
His kindness made her heart swell. “N-No, but we’ve got stuff in the freezer I can heat up. Maybe we can reschedule?”
“Bambi, I’m already on my way to your house.”
Her breath hitched. “What? But, Harry, I can’t—”
“You think I’d let a little change of plans stop me from seein’ you? Been needin’ to see m’Bambi all day. How ‘bout this: you help your mum, and I’ll come by and make dinner for all of you. Sound good?”
Her heart skipped a beat. Was he real? Was he really this thoughtful, this willing to come over despite everything?
“Harry, you don’t have to—”
“I want to. Now, go get in some comfy pjs, and I’ll stop by the store to grab snacks. Maybe we can watch a movie later. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice lighter now. “That sounds perfect.”
“Alright, I’ll be over in thirty minutes. Take a deep breath for me, Bambi.”
Immediate relief washed over her at the idea of having an extra pair of hands to help her with something that she’d normally be left alone to and better yet it was Harry who was coming to help her. So, she did exactly that - breathe. 
. . . 
Y/N was pushing clothes into the washing machine when she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart skipped a beat or possibly maybe two when she heard it. She forced the door shut on the machine and walked to the front door. She frowned the closer she got when she could already hear Harry’s voice but that was soon followed by the voice of her younger brother. 
“I know jujitsu, you know,” Archie announced, his small five-foot frame blocking the doorway.
“You take classes?” Harry asked, bemused.
“No, I learned it on Roblox,” Archie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Harry said with a grin.
Archie snorted. “You could just be saying that to get into our house and rob us.”
Y/N’s face heated with embarrassment as she approached the door, ushering Archie out of the way. Harry’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Y/N, this pizza delivery guy is trying to break into our house,” Archie said. Y/N looked to see Harry holding two pizza boxes and a plastic bag.
“Archie,” Y/N gasped, “this is not a pizza delivery man. This is Harry.”
Harry smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered Archie a small wave. It did nothing to ease the suspicious look on Archie’s face. “Who’s Harry?”
Y/N froze, unsure of how to answer. Harry was both her boss and the man she was dating, but she couldn’t exactly explain that to her little brother. “He’s... my special friend.”
Archie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged and wandered off. Y/N’s shoulders sagged with relief as she turned to face Harry, who was still grinning at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his matching brown suit, his curly hair tousled in that familiar way. Her heart sank a little, knowing he had dressed up for their date.
“H-Harry, I’m really sorry—” she began, but before she could finish, Harry set the pizza boxes down and pulled her into a tight embrace. She breathed in the fruity scent of his cologne as he gently rubbed circles on her back.
“Bambi,” he murmured with a soft sigh, “I missed you.”
She smiled against his chest. “You just saw me the other day, and we FaceTimed last night.”
Harry pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks with his large hands. “Kiss?”
Her cheeks flushed, as they always did when he asked for a kiss. She stood on her toes, meeting his lips, savouring the softness of his touch and the faint taste of peppermint from his lip balm. 
“Have you eaten yet?” he murmured against her lips. “I brought pizza.”
“You didn’t have to,” Y/N sighed softly. “I was just going to throw something in the oven.”
“Hey, Bambi.” She looked up, meeting his gaze already fixed on her. “I wanted to. I’m here to help, okay? Now, why don’t we eat this before it gets cold? You grab some plates, and I’ll set the table.”
“O-Oh, okay.” She nodded, a bit flustered. “Just so you know, my brothers can be… intense.”
Harry smiled, his expression easygoing. “It’s okay, I’ve got a niece. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
Y/N led him into the living room where her little brothers were scattered. Archie sat in the corner, hunched over the computer, likely playing the game he had mentioned to Harry earlier.
“Who are you?” a small voice piped up. Harry glanced down to see a boy around six or seven, looking at him curiously.
“That’s Y/N’s special friend,” Archie chimed in without even turning around from his game.
“Weren’t you the guy making out with my sister the other night?” The eldest of the three boys, who looked about fourteen, spoke up from where he was watching TV. Despite his age, there was a maturity in his tone that caught Harry off guard.
Harry chuckled, feeling Y/N stiffen beside him. He gave the teenager a polite smile. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.”
“Sammy go and get the plates from the kitchen, Harry bought us pizza.” Sammy huffed, pausing the tv and doing exactly as his sister said. 
“Jack, can you grab an extra chair?” Y/N asked the youngest boy, her voice gentle but firm. Harry watched as the boys immediately followed their eldest sister’s instructions without question. A small pang tugged at his chest—part of him felt for her, having to shoulder the responsibility of looking after three growing boys. He didn’t know every detail of her family life, but seeing the way they interacted was enough to tell him they’d had to adapt quickly.
They all gathered around the table, two extra-large pizzas laid out in front of them. Harry chuckled at the sight of the boys eyeing the food like it was a rare treasure.
“Calm down,” he murmured with a grin, leaning close to Y/N. “Y’ so stiff, Bambi.”
Y/N blushed, fidgeting slightly. “Sorry, I just get so—”
“So?” Harry interrupted, smirking as he tried to coax her into a fluster. “So what, baby?”
“So nervous,” Y/N huffed, her cheeks burning as she realized he was toying with her.
A throat cleared from across the table, and Y/N suddenly felt three pairs of eyes locked onto them. Jack and Archie looked disgusted by the couple’s banter, while the eldest boy, Sammy, was glaring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry suppress a laugh.
“How old are you?” Sammy asked bluntly, his gaze sharp and protective.
Y/N choked on her drink. “Sammy! You can’t just ask people that—it’s rude!”
Harry chuckled, raising a hand to calm her. “No, it’s alright,” he said, amused. “I’m thirty.”
“Whoa, you’re old!” Archie blurted out, eyes wide with surprise.
“Archie!” Y/N gasped, mortified, while Jack burst out laughing.
“I guess it is kind of old,” Harry shrugged playfully, glancing at Y/N with a wink.
“Are you rich?” Sammy pressed, undeterred.
Y/N’s face flushed even more, praying the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
“I do well,” Harry replied, keeping his tone light. “I own a fashion company.”
“That means he’s rich,” Archie chimed in, eyes lighting up. “Do you have a sports car?”
Harry leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I own three.”
Archie gasped, his face a picture of awe. “No wonder you can afford two extra-large pizzas!”
“If you think that’s cool, wait till you hear what else I brought,” Harry teased.
“Candy?” Archie’s eyes grew even wider, filled with excitement.
“Better.”
“Ice cream?”
Harry nodded. “Ice cream, candy, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles... you name it.”
Archie looked as though he might pass out from pure joy. Sweets after dinner weren’t a common occurrence in their house unless it was a special occasion.
Harry’s smile softened as his eyes flicked to Sammy, who was still watching him with guarded suspicion. “What do you want from my sister?” Sammy finally asked, his tone sharp.
Y/N cringed, wishing she could disappear like Jack, who was contentedly munching on pizza, completely oblivious to the tension. Her cheeks were already burning before she’d even taken a bite.
Harry’s hand found its way to her knee under the table, a silent reassurance that he knew exactly how she was feeling without her having to say a word.
“It’s still early,” Harry said honestly, his gaze meeting Sammy’s without faltering. “But I really, really like your sister.”
Sammy seemed to relax at that, but not without a final warning. “You’re not allowed to like her as much as we do.”
Y/N’s heart squeezed at the words. Despite the challenges, the boys were her world, her best friends.
Harry smiled warmly, his voice sincere. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
. . .
"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Archie came barreling into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream from the ice cream sundaes they’d made earlier. Y/N was bent over the washing machine, pulling out clothes to hang on the makeshift line by the window.
"Harry says he's gonna take us to the indoor waterpark in the city for my birthday! Isn't that awesome? And he beat Sammy's score on the new game he bought us!"
Y/N glanced up, smiling softly at Archie's excitement. The boys had been glued to the computer for hours after Harry surprised them with a game they’d been begging for. The sound of their wild laughter had echoed through the house all afternoon.
Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Harry, I was just telling Y/N about the waterpark you’re taking us to," Archie said eagerly.
Harry’s eyes flicked to Y/N. "Ah, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I heard there’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up soon."
Archie's birthday was still a month away, and Y/N had only planned a simple celebration—movies, takeout, and cake. As Archie bolted from the kitchen, beaming about the waterpark, Y/N’s smile faded slightly.
Harry noticed the shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. "Did I mess something up?"
"N-no," Y/N replied quickly, shaking her head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... Archie's birthday isn’t for another month."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "So?"
Y/N hesitated, her words stumbling over themselves. "I just don’t want to make promises, you know, in case… I mean, what if…" She trailed off, struggling to find a way to express the growing anxiety in her chest. She adored Harry, more than she could articulate, but a part of her couldn’t help worrying about the future—the uncertainties that came with letting someone new into their lives.
"Bambi," Harry’s voice was soft as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Where’d you go?"
She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
His lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Y’ do this thing where you space out, like your mind drifts off somewhere else ‘cause you're thinkin’ too much."
"I do that?" she asked, surprised.
"Mhm," he murmured, his thumb tracing the little furrow in her brow, the touch sending warmth through her. "I like you an awful lot, Bambi. I plan on stickin' around for a long time."
"You do?" Her voice was small, almost disbelieving.
"Yes, I do. And I really like your brothers—they’re a credit to you."
Y/N opened her mouth to deflect, as usual. "Oh, you mean my mom—"
"No," Harry interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I mean you."
Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes misting over. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words. Without thinking, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a kiss filled with the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words.
She was about to pull away, but Harry held her close, his hands gripping her hips as he deepened the kiss. His soft, warm lips made her head spin, and for a brief moment, the world around them disappeared.
That is, until Sammy’s voice rang out from the hallway. "I’m coming in, so you better not be swapping saliva in there!"
Harry broke the kiss with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder. "Alright, alright, we’re behaving," he teased, winking at Y/N before moving to the sink. "Let me help you," he offered, turning on the faucet to start washing the dishes from dinner.
Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. The words he’d spoken earlier echoed in her mind—words that had already begun to feel familiar, but only when they came from him.
. . .
Y/N woke up the following morning, not from the alarm she’d set for 6 a.m., but from the rapid thumping of her heart. Anxiety rippled through her, making her stomach twist with nerves. Today was her first day working at Pleasing, her first day officially under Harry’s employment. She was excited, of course, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in her belly from multiplying.
She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and she reached over, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the message.
Harry: Morning, Bambi 🌞 There’s a car on its way to pick you up. No need to stress, yeah? I’ll be waiting for you at the office. You’re gonna be amazing x
A small smile crept onto her face despite the nerves. Harry’s words were like a warm hug on a cold morning, making her feel just a little bit braver. She couldn’t help but appreciate how he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, right when she needed to hear it.
She quickly typed a reply, her fingers still shaky.
Y/N: Thank you. I’m a little nervous but I’ll do my best. See you soon 💕
Y/N got out of bed and went through her morning routine, trying to focus on each task to stop her mind from spiraling into all the things that could go wrong today. She picked out an outfit she hoped said “professional but approachable,” taking extra care to smooth out any creases in her clothes. When she was finally dressed, she checked the time—6:45 a.m.—the car Harry sent should be arriving any minute.
She stepped outside, the cool morning air doing little to ease her racing thoughts. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The street was quiet at this hour, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only person awake in the world.
Just then, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her, the driver rolling down the window with a friendly nod. "Y/N?" he asked, and she nodded in response.
“That’s me,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She climbed into the backseat, clutching her bag on her lap as the driver started the journey to the office. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by, and tried to give herself a little pep talk.
You can do this. You’re ready. Harry believes in you, so believe in yourself, too.
Her phone buzzed in her hand again, another message from Harry.
Harry: Also going on a coffee run, do you want anything? x
Bambi: Isn’t that my job today? x
Harry: It’s my job to take care of you everyday
Y/N didn’t realize how wide her smile had grown until she caught her reflection in the glassy screen of her phone. A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she tried to compose herself, glancing out the window to distract from the giddy feeling bubbling inside her. She watched as the quiet suburbs melted into the bustle of the big city, her heart thudding against her ribcage. 
Slowly, the car pulled up outside Pleasing. The building was elegant, with an arched doorway and a clean awning that had the brand's name in bold letters. Through the large glass doors, Y/N could see a glimpse of the bright, stylish interior. Her heart pounded as the car came to a stop, her mouth opening with a desperate plea to leave, to turn back and retreat home where she could hide away—but then she saw Harry, and her words fell away for an entirely different reason.
She’d seen Harry in a suit before, but seeing him in full CEO mode was something else. He wore a flawless black-and-white suit, cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. His eyes were stern, his entire demeanor unshakeable—until he looked her way, and his whole form softened.
“You’re here,” His voice was warm and inviting. She wanted to leap into him and hide herself within him but she wanted to be professional.
She stood in front of him, not wanting to get any closer to her new boss, “Good morning, Mr Styles.”
The corner of Harry’s lips quirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied, savoring her formality. He took a step closer, his gaze gentle yet focused. “Ready for today?”
“Y-yes,” She said but it wasn’t all that convincing.
Harry grabbed her hand, “You’ll be just fine Bambi.” He murmured the nickname just for her to hear. 
The warmth of his hand around hers steadied her, but it also set her pulse racing. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he kept their joined hands subtly hidden between them as they walked through the grand entrance and into the lobby. Y/N’s nerves started to quiet, replaced by a growing excitement.
As they stepped into the elevator, Harry’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him but his eyes were looking ahead. Her eyes fixated on his sharp jawline and smooth, freshly-shaven face; he looked even more polished, clean-cut and distinctly professional since she’d last seen him.
When they reached his office floor, Harry led her down a sleek corridor and into an airy, open workspace with views of the city skyline. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and a few team members looked up with welcoming smiles.
Just ahead, a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and an easy smile approached them. Her professional but warm demeanor put Y/N at ease almost instantly. Harry released Y/N’s hand as he greeted her.
“Lindsey, this is Y/N,” he said, glancing between them. “She’s starting with us today. I thought you might help her settle in and get familiar with everything.”
Lindsey extended her hand warmly. “Oh is this-”
Harry’s gaze lingered on her with a slight, unreadable intensity, prompting Lindsey to pause mid-sentence. Then, noticing Y/N, she broke into a bright smile.
“Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She laughed lightly, her eyes flicking to Harry with a teasing glint. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious why anyone would sign up to be his assistant—he can be a real pain most days.” She shot him a playful look. “But don’t worry, just don’t enter his office at midday - he can get real hangry.” 
Y/N giggled and Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound, ““Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, “you’re in very good hands.” He turned to Lindsey. “Make sure she gets a proper introduction to everything, but don’t overwhelm her.”
Lindsey chuckled. “I’ll keep it light for today, boss. We’d be here all day getting into your list of demands everyday.”
Harry rolled his eyes, and with a final look at Y/N, said, “I’ll see you later, then.” His words were simple, but the small smile he gave her was anything but. As he walked away, Y/N felt the anticipation return, wanting him to come back and be the one to show her around. She wasn’t the best with meeting new people. She was shy and nervous and fumbled over her words too often but Harry had great faith in her so she would try her best to do good. 
“Alright, let’s get started,” Lindsey said, gesturing to an open desk area near Harry’s office. “First things first—coffee? I’ll show you the best spot, and then we’ll make our way through the to-do list Harry sent this morning.” 
. . .
Y/N liked Lindsey a lot. 
She was funny and gentle. Whenever Y/N made a mistake—like earlier when she accidentally printed everything in pink instead of black and white—Lindsey would correct her kindly, reminding her that mistakes happen. Y/N wasn’t used to this kind of patience; her old boss would snap or hiss at even the smallest error. Here, it felt nice to breathe a little easier.
Lindsey spoke warmly about her two little boys, whom she cared for while her husband was away with the military. She had once been a stay-at-home mom, but over time, the isolation began to weigh on her; she craved more than just the role of mother and wanted to be out in the world, around people. When she applied to Pleasing, she’d explained her situation to Harry during her interview, and he had offered her flexible hours so she could still make it home to her boys each evening.
Whenever Lindsey mentioned the things Harry had done for her and her family, her voice would grow thick with emotion, and she spoke of him with genuine admiration. Y/N found herself thinking of her own circumstances and the way Harry had taken her under his wing, feeling a warmth for him settle in her chest.
“Okay, Harry’s in a meeting, so we need to bring in tea and coffee,” Lindsey said, heading over to a small rolling cart neatly stocked with cups, a teapot, and coffee supplies.
She guided Y/N through the arrangement, showing her how Harry liked his tea prepared. “He’s particular about the temperature—hot but not scalding,” Lindsey explained with a wink. “Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of things.”
Y/N carefully poured the tea, her hands steadying with each instruction Lindsey offered. They finished preparing the drinks, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached for the cart handle.
“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “Just go in, keep it simple, and make sure everyone has their drinks. You’ll be a natural at this in no time.”
“I’m going in alone?” Y/N’s eyes widened.
“It’s good practice,” Lindsey grins, “Good luck!”
Y/N squared her shoulders and pushed the cart toward the meeting room. The murmurs grew louder as she approached, but her nerves eased slightly upon catching Harry’s eye. His expression softened for a moment before returning to its professional coolness, a small signal just for her.
As she entered, she was met with the sight of a large glass table surrounded by men in sharp suits, all eyes shifting toward her. Taking a breath, she rolled the cart around and placed the cups in front of Harry and the others. Just as she reached for the teapot, a slight tremor ran through her hand, and she felt a sudden rush of panic.
In an instant, she lost her grip. The teapot tipped, sending hot tea spilling across the table and splattering onto a crisp white shirt belonging to one of the men. The room fell silent, and every gaze shifted from her to the angry figure, whose face flushed crimson.
““Watch where you’re going!” he barked, rising from his seat. “Do you even know how to serve properly?”
Y/N’s heart raced, the color draining from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a surge of anger rippled through the room.
“Do you think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” Harry murmured, his voice laced with malice.
“She stained my shirt! She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it,” the man continued, and Y/N could see the discomfort on the faces of the other attendees, their expressions telling her they knew he’d crossed a line.
Harry’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a fountain pen. With swift strokes, he began to scribble before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, would you mind delivering this to Mr. Smith?”
Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the check, its weight feeling both significant and heavy.
Mr. Smith snatched the check from her hands, glancing down at it with a scowl. Written across the page was Harry’s signature alongside a mere fifty dollars. “Your final check—enough to cover the shirt, I assume? I think I saw the same one in the TK Maxx sale rack.”
“Final?” Mr. Smith asked, incredulous.
“Correct,” Harry replied nonchalantly.
Mr. Smith’s face burned bright red. He huffed, rising from his seat and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. “Meeting adjourned,” Harry announced, and everyone flooded out, eager to escape the awkward tension.
Y/N stood in the corner, barely able to look up. Embarrassment washed over her; she wondered if she could do any job right. Her eyes watered as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.
Suddenly, two polished shoes came into view, and big hands cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.
She wanted to say yes, to express pride in her efforts and how well she had handled the day, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t do anything right,” she admitted, her voice muffled.
Harry sighed, his arms encircling her as he rubbed the back of her head soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.”
“You can’t fire people because of me, Harry.”
“Don’t worry about him. We’ve wanted to get rid of him for ages—just a sexist prick. Turns out you’re a pretty good assistant for giving me an excuse to fire someone on the spot,” he chuckled lightly.
Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering as his hand held her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “These eyes,” he whispered.
A smile broke through her sadness. “I’m sorry for ruining your meeting.”
“Don’t care, Bambi.” He was so much taller than her, nearly a foot difference, so he had to lean down to brush his nose against hers, their lips ghosting against each other. “You actually made it better.”
“I did?” she whispered, her mind suddenly forgetting the man who had yelled at her.
“Mhm,” he hummed, and then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, sending a warm flutter through Y/N that chased away the remnants of her earlier embarrassment. She melted into the moment, her worries fading as Harry’s lips brushed against hers. 
“Okay, what the hell happened?” Lindsey barged into the room, causing Y/N to leap away from Harry, her cheeks flushing.
“Wow, Lindsey,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, both of them flustered as Lindsey glanced between them. “Try knocking next time, yeah?”
“Since when have I ever needed to knock?” Lindsey shot back, her eyebrows knitting together as she assessed Y/N, whose face was now bright pink.
“Since now,” Harry replied. Clearing his throat, he added, “If you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past her, leaving the tension lingering in the air.
A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips, even as embarrassment tinged her cheeks; it was the first time she’d witnessed him so flustered. Lindsey arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “So, are you two like…?”
“No,” Y/N replied, the denial tumbling out a bit too quickly.
Lindsey shot her a knowing look but chose not to press further. “Might want to let him know about that lipstick stain on his upper lip,” she added, rolling the cart out of the room and leaving Y/N feeling distinctly warm and flustered.
. . .
Harry kissed Y/N with the lights off on her front porch after dropping her home. Y/N melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her, the sweet taste of his breath mixing with the fresh night air. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. “Bambi,” He slurred against her lips.”
“Hm?” She hummed, unable to stop herself when she pulled him closer. 
“I was thinking,” He murmured, pulling away but his hands still firmly gripping her waist, “Maybe this weekend y’ could come to my place and stay the night.”
“The night?” She’d never had a sleepover before let alone one at a boys house. 
“Yeah… Would you be okay with that?” 
“Y-Yeah, I think so.”
“Y’ think so?” Harry grinned, “Are y’ sure?”
She smiled, “I’d like that.”
“Well, alright then,” he murmured, leaning down to place one last, soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bambi.”
“Goodnight, Harry.” Y/N barely suppressed a smile as she watched him walk to his car, a flutter in her chest as he turned back for a final wave.
Before she turned to step into her house, her phone buzzed and a text came through from Harry.
Harry: I think we have to get better at this whole sneaking around thing
Y/N: Tell yourself that, you kissed me first!
Harry: Can’t help it Bambi 
Harry: I’m obsessed with you
. . .
taglist ~~
@ravenclawmarvel @noididnotsignupforthis @comicalivy  @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @madstyles3204 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown
2K notes · View notes
messenger-of-babel · 3 months ago
Text
The Call
Tumblr media
Summary: One little call to each of them. One big consequence. (Batfamily x sibling!reader)
Word Count: 2.9K
Notes: IM LATE AGAIN. I hope you all know that I do stay up wildly late when this happens cause I want to edit before I submit, even if some of these were pre-written (its 1:30AM RAHH). ANWAYS. Batfamily, I tried to get as many as I could but I haven't collected runs for about half the family cause I am biased towards my boys, but I am trying to be as accurate as possible when I can be and that includes those dynamics! So rest assured I am doing my research and hopefully that'll reflect soon. As usual, enjoy your daily feed and I'll enjoy my nap. Warnings just for general description of violence.
Much Love~! xx
━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
When Dick got the call, he was in his civilian clothes.
Dick Grayson was suit shopping, needing something for an upcoming gala. He had put it off for so long, since he wore the Nightwing suit more than any other in his closet. He had let it ring out once while he got his measurements taken, but when they called back a second time, his lips dipped into a frown. Excusing himself, he clicked the answer call button, stating his name. He hears the voice of Bruce, but in the stern tone of Batman. He doesn’t think that he's ever left a store as fast as he had that day, feet thudding on the pavement and breath cold in his chest as he hurries to his car. He unlocks it and all but throws himself into the passenger seat, lines on his face hardening. Throwing it quickly into drive he pulls out and heads in the direction of the manor.
He tries to keep himself composed, his emotional training kicking in. His fingers are tense on the steering wheel, passing over the bridge at a speed a cop would most certainly pull him over for. Even though he tries to take a deep breath, there's a burning in his sternum. It builds until it creeps into his neck, making him click his tongue uncomfortably.
The sensation is a rage he hadn't felt in a while, a fire that hadn’t burnt that intensely since he was just a boy grieving his parents’ death. It had flickered when he had heard Bruce had adopted a boy called Jason after him, sputtering to life upon hearing about his death. Yet he had grown, he had risen above it and had become a shelter for his younger, extended family. He was dependable, uncrackable, and upbeat, that was Nightwing. Yet as he drives back with that painful fire in his chest, he felt nothing more than Dick Grayson, the boy stricken with fear at the idea of losing his family.
When Jason got the call, he had been on patrol.
Helm securely on his face, it kept the drizzly night rain of Gotham out of his eyes. It had been a rather quiet night, stopping a few minor robberies and assaults that were common down by Dixon Docks. He was eager to return home, wanting to swing by the manor quickly to take full advantage of the hot water system before heading back to his apartment in Old Gotham for a well-deserved rest. He had just finished interrogating some of Penguins' men, about to call the cave to let whoever was on tonight know that they finally had the location of the new drug den they had been chasing the past month. However, the communication device he had set on his bike was lit, screen full of notifications.
Calls, one after another filled the small holographic display and he pressed the button to call back, leg swinging over the side of the bike as he did so. He had only started the bike but already he screeched to a stop, making sure he heard the words properly. A curse and gruffly shouted questions were his only response and when he got the information he wanted, he cut the call and the bike roared to life. He leant forward as if that was going to help him get to his destination quicker, blood boiling underneath his skin. His chest ached with the urge to sputter out pants, desperate to start the sign of panic racing through his veins. Yet he was stronger than that, keeping his cool like a tightly wound coil, muscles tensed beneath the suit.
His mind buzzes with worry, anxiety gnawing at his ribcage like a feral rat.
Jason doesn't often allow himself to be emotional on the job, despite his tendency for rage.
But rage was different. Rage burned and warmed him up from the inside, was the force that he put behind every punch or kick. It was his kindling, and it served to guide him as well as any star. Of course, Bruce had tempered it somewhat, but he had just guided Jason into turning it into something else, not getting rid of entirely. He used rage to protect the people of the city, the outrage he felt when he saw them get treated badly. He used rage when coming to his family's defence, the sight of hands being laid on people he had come to care for sparking it too. Those were the rages he was used to using, although there was always a third.
The pit.
The rage that bubbled away in the back of his mind, hidden behind a tall wall and shoved into the deepest part of him. That was the rage that crept forth, green and poisonous in his veins and clouding his judgement in a fog of pain and despair and anger. When it would appear, he would often take a moment to himself to pack it back away, contain it once more in the bulletproof casing of his heart. Yet right now, he didn't want to put it back. It made him rev the bike harder, made him feel like he was getting there quicker. The bike kicked up water as he zig zagged through the back streets, his mental map of Gotham rerouting anytime the traffic was longer than five cars deep. He couldn't afford to lost time, to not be fast enough. Not now, not this time, and if he had to use the rage the pit cursed him with, he would.
Tim was at the manor, holed up in his room when he got the call.
It had been a long night the night before, tossing restlessly. Not that he would have told anyone, but the last fight with Bane had left him with a few more bruises than he had let on, cleverly hidden from the keen eyes of Alfred. He wanted to nurse them himself, carry his own weight. In fact, he had been sulking in his room going over the things that had been troubling him, knees pulled to his chest.
Dick was capable and dependable, and the first Robin, the biggest shoes to fill. Jason was tenacious but loved deeply, and he fought for what was right. His methods might be unconventional to the Bat sometimes, but he knew what he wanted to fight for. Steph had flown the nest to become Spoiler, Cass already had such a firm grasp of who she wanted to become now that she was Orphan. Barbara had even been able to turn her life around after being put into her wheelchair, her desire to help leading her to become Oracle when she had to hang up Batgirl. Even Damian, the true son of Bruce Wayne, was so confident, growing at a rate he knew Bruce was quietly proud of.
But then there was Tim, who stayed up on weekends trying to redesign his suit, to carve his own vigilante life, only to look on it and see the traces of his time as Robin printed clearly on it. The role of Robin had outgrown him, but there was the shred of doubt that whispered in his ear that just maybe, he hadn't outgrown it. The ringing of his phone snapped him out of his daze, and he let it go to voicemail. When it came again, he grabbed his phone with the desire to turn it off, but seeing the emergency signal had him picking up right away.
"Hello?" he called, sitting right up in bed. His eyes widened and he shelved his pity party, running out of his room.
He winds through the halls of the manor until he finds the door he's looking for. Tim's knuckles rap against the wood loudly, repeating until a disgruntled Damian comes to the door, swinging it open violently. "This better be good, Drake." he deadpans, scanning the flustered state of the older boy. Tim just turns his phone screen, showing the emergency call signal before gesturing to the direction of the grandfather clock with his head. "We've got to go." he says curtly, the young boy hot on his heels after he recovers from his shock.
Both of them head to the cave and prepare to depart immediately. Tim slips the suit over his skin like an outgrown shedding, domino mask sliding onto his face. He couldn’t recognise his own face when he caught sight of it in the glass reflection, but a mask and suit would never be enough to hide the panic that clung to him tighter than the Red Robin suit.
When Bruce got the call, he was at Wayne Enterprises.
He was making a rare appearance at the office, knowing that Lucius had something that he wanted to talk to him about. His office felt foreign and sterile, empty and unreal. The glass surfaces everywhere let him glimpse the face of Bruce Wayne, a face that he was beginning to see less and less. It felt uncanny seeing himself without the cowl, and sometimes when he was working, he could swear he saw a reflection of the bat ears in the window beside him. The night had dragged on, and he was only an hour into the meeting with Lucius when the phone in his suit pocket rang.
He and Lucius shared a sceptical look as he turned the phone screen. The call location wasn't displaying as the Batcave, the only place that could contact this phone directly outside of his children, Lucius and Alfred's personal mobile. Yet he knew Red Hood was taking the brunt of patrol tonight, and Bruce was intended to join him after the meeting. Dick was carrying out some errands downtown and everyone else had either stayed home or didn't contact him like this often. The girls preferred to call his phone as Bruce Wayne or spoke through Alfred, so who could it be?
Lucius gives a nod, silent as he sits down. Bruce's face hardens as he presses the speaker button, accepting the call.
"Who is this?" he says, lowering his voice to the gravelly timbre of Batman.
"Da...B-Batman?" comes a broken, shaky voice on the other end. Lucius's eyes widen and flick to Bruce's immediately, mouth parting. Bruce's jaw ticks, eyes widening as well when he hears your voice.
"This is the Batman. How did you get this number?" He asks, having to focus on keeping his voice low, even though the tone of Bruce threatens to creep back in.
"He-he just had it. I don't know. He just told me to speak, I-I'm not even holding the phone I can't see anything; I’m tied, my eyes are-" you begin to ramble, struggling to get through your words before you're cut off.
"Hello, Batsy." calls a voice close to the receiver, and Bruce swore that his heart fell through the floor in that moment. His fingers tighten around the phone the same way that his lungs are constricting in his chest.
"Joker."
The man on the other end cackles, if Bruce could even call him that. "Miss me?" he snickers, Bruce's mind filling with the image of a red stretched grin. "You see, this is more of a... courtesy call. You know Bruce Wayne, billionaire extraordinaire?"
Bruce's head snaps up to Lucius, who's rubbing at his face nervously.
He didn't know, did he?
"You see, I didn't make a lot of impact going after the commissioner last time, so I had to think to myself, If I wanted to really shake things up in Gotham, who else is there? Then I thought of it, who better than the playboy of the century?" he laughs, punctuated with a sharp snap of his fingers.
"Get to the point." Bruce all but growls.
"Yeah yeah, you always love to rush me, don't you?" The Joker snarks back with fake hurt, before continuing. "Regardless, I have one of his little orphan projects, thinking I might have a bit more success with this one."
He hears a thwack over the phone and a scream, making his nails dig into his palm. He steadies his breathing.
"What have you done?" he asks, low and dangerous.
Another thwack.
"Exactly what I said. But there was a rumour going around that you know Mr. Money, so I thought I'd give you a call, you know, a little gift. If you do know the richest orphan in Gotham, then I want to give you the honour of telling him I've got one of his. Better yet, I want to give you the honour of delivering their body to his doorstep. Maybe that way, you might be able to bond over losing your fake kids."
Bruce feels sick, closing his eyes to try and stop himself from making a mistake right now.
Your life was on the line. He had to play smart.
"Where are you?"
The joker tuts on the other end. "This was a courtesy call, nothing more. I don't want anyone interrupting my playtime. Tata for now~"
"Joker-" he starts but then he's cut off, line going dead. Lucius doesn't say anything, his own personal phone pulled out as he calls Alfred, studying the frozen figure of Bruce. It's almost like there's dark tendrils to the shadows on his broad body, deepening the lines on his face.
Bruce doesn't remember too much, but Batman did.
Immediately he had left the room, suit en route to him and arriving within the minute. As soon as the comfort of his cowl touched his skin, Bruce was gone, and it was Batman calling everyone at the same time. It was Dick who picked up first, a couple of rings earlier than Jason before Tim joined, the sound of Damian in the background. Oracle and Spoiler joined together, while the others were still pending. He didn’t have the time to temper his voice as he relayed the situation, immediately getting as many people on recon as possible.
There were shouts and yelling and cursing before all of their lines became inactive, replaced with trackers signalling that their suits were live. When he enters the batmobile he grips the wheel tensely. The lump in his throat doesn't seem to disappear, only growing larger with each second. His mind is filled with pictures of Jason. Pictures of Barbara. The smiling photos of you.
He might never admit it, but he had your photos front and centre in his wallet (something you did in fact know and used to your advantage frequently in 'dad loves me more' battles). He remembers the first day he ever saw you, cold and scared apart from the other kids in the orphanage. He had been investigating a potential human trafficking ring operating out of the centre, but when he saw you, the fatherly pang hit him. The way your eyes stared forward dully as he greeted children as Bruce Wayne, cameras flashing around him. He had enough wealth to buy the children anything they asked for, the other kids excitedly asking for new toys or clothes or art supplies. However, when he kneeled down in front of you and asked you want you wanted, you said only a few words, 'a family'.
And god be damned if Bruce didn't have money enough for that too.
So, he took you in, hid batman from you like he had tried to with everyone else as well. Yet he failed again, but unlike his children in the past, you never asked to join. Never asked for a suit or to stay up or to train in the cave. Never showed any interest in joining your siblings or throwing yourself in front of danger for the sake of the city. When he asked you why you had simply shrugged, giving him a soft smile.
"All I've ever wanted was to be part of a family. I don't need to be a superhero to be loved."
And then you beamed at him with a smile that could have lit up his world and chased the clouds away from Gotham, so pure and genuinely content. That made Bruce feel like he had finally succeeded as a father, and for once Bruce felt like a father. No Batman, no mask and cape. He didn't train with you; he went out with you to the theatre on weekends. You didn't jump from rooftop to rooftop, you liked to come study with him in his office when he had to take care of Wayne affairs. Batman may have been created to save Gotham city, but he was convinced that you were sent to save Bruce Wayne.
Now, he felt that he had failed you as both Bruce and Batman.
"Hold on sweetheart," he whispers to himself, letting his eyes close for a brief moment during his exhale. "I'll get you home. I promise."
He pressed the accelerator further, Batmobile display signaling that everyone else was suited up and across the city waiting further instruction. He just hoped, he prayed that when he brought you back, it wouldn't be in a body bag.
1K notes · View notes
moody-alcoholic · 1 month ago
Text
Part 2 as promised.
Part 1
CW: Dead dove don’t eat, assault, mentions of SA, torture, suicidal thoughts, hurt/comfort.
_____________________
Ghost flicks the ash off his cigarette. 
“Do we know who we’re looking for?" Gaz asks. It's a pointless question. They know who they’re looking for. You’ve been mentioning a guy at work who has been getting a little too handsy. 
You were going to confront him in the new year with your boss. You didn’t want to ruin anyone's Christmas, now yours is ruined. 
People are starting to leave the office building now, it’s just past midnight. They watch in silence concealed in the darkness down an alleyway a few buildings from your workplace. Maybe this was the alley you were found down. It’s dark and cold, the businesses are all closed, it would have been easy to coerce you down, it makes his stomach drop. Someone hurt you, he hurt you. 
“Should have taken care of this sooner.” Gaz says. Ghost just hums watching as the lights in the buildings go off. The last few people are filtering out the building. Ghost straightens up flicking his cigarette but to the floor. 
“That’s him.” Ghost says, blowing out the smoke before reaching up to pull the familiar balaclava down over his face. 
_____________________
When the police arrive you feel somewhat sober. Your body is sore, your head throbbing. Seeing them walk in with all their gear makes you nervous. All of a sudden you feel like you’ve done something wrong. 
Johnny never leaves your side, he holds your hand stroking it with his thumb while the female officer asks you questions you don’t know how to answer. You still can’t remember what happened. You can piece it together though, you can tell by the hushed voices and the somber looks from people. 
The worst is the pain, the ache in your body every time you move, the bruises hurt the most.  Sometimes Johnny runs his fingers over them, his eyes going dark and he lets out a sigh. John stands at the end of the bed still, his gaze never leaves you unless someone enters the room. You just want to go home. 
The most embarrassing part is when they have to take pictures of your injuries. Your swollen eye is now turning black and blue. There’s bruises around your neck, talking hurts, swallowing’s worse. The nurse gives you more painkillers but it just makes you feel sick. 
John talks with the officers and the nurse after they’re done. Johnny tries to keep your attention on him. You feel embarrassed, the nurse said they did a rape kit, you don’t even remember that, the police need to take it for evidence. That makes silent tears come, you can’t stop them. 
“C’mon, none of that love.” Johnny says reaching up to brush them away. 
“I want to go home,” you sob. 
“We’ll be home soon, promise,” he smiles. You want a shower, you want to scrub your body clean. You feel dirty, your stomach is turning as your mind wanders to the unthinkable. You hope you never remember what happened, you fear you won’t be so lucky.
_____________________
Ghost’s fist meets his cheek, his nose is broken, his jaw will be next. Not now though, now they need him to talk. 
“Price says he’s on his way.” Gaz says as he walks back over to him. “Asked you not to kill him.” Ghost just grunts. 
Ryan, that's his name. You never mentioned that to them, you didn’t mention much just that he was making you uncomfortable. Gaz was right they should have dealt with this sooner. They shouldn’t have let you go to the party alone. Even before you left you had reservations. 
Ryan hasn’t said much. He was very drunk when they picked him up. He seems pretty sober now, he’s scared. 
Good, he should be.
Ghost wonders if you were scared, when you were assaulted. It doesn’t seem like you remember much, for your sake he hopes it stays that way. 
The door to the secluded warehouse opens, the sound of slamming metal echoes in the space. John bought this place a few months ago, used to store scrap metal. The place still smells of rust, but it’s outside the city center, it’s quiet and that's all they need. 
Price walks over coming out of the darkness. He doesn’t say a word, just takes in the scene. Ryan looks up, his eyes glued on the new person walking up to him. Price grabs the back of a chair and places it in front of him before sitting down. 
“Ryan, right?” He asks. The man nods. “Had a good night? He doesn’t move. 
“Do you like your job?” He nods again. Price leans forward. “So, let's have a chat about what happened tonight.” 
“Nothing happened tonight,” he says, swallowing hard. Price smiles at him for a second before sitting back up.
“Let’s try that again. What happened at the party?” Ryan looks confused for a second. Blood is still dripping from his nose, Price sighs this is going to be a long night. 
“Wait, is this all about her?” He asks looking up past Price at Ghost. “Look I don’t know what you think happened but she came onto me.” 
Price hums his hands gripping his thighs before getting up and moving the chair away. “Thing is, I just don’t believe you.” Ghost steps back over to him. 
“I’m telling the truth.” He pleads. 
“Nope, try again.” Price says. Ghost’s fist crashes into Ryans face. His head snaps uncomfortably, he spits blood coughing. 
“So what happened at the party?” Price asks again. 
“Who the fuck even are you!?” He shouts looking round at the 3 men standing in front of him.  
“That doesn’t matter.” Price says, Ryan scoffs spitting again. 
“Why do you care?” He asks, looking around at everyone. 
“It’s a simple question.” Price says bending down so his head is level with his face. “We can be here all night. Or you can be honest with us.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, there’s a shake in his voice. The adrenaline and alcohol pumping through his system is filling him with confidence. They have to break that first. Price sighs moving back to stand with Gaz. 
This time Ghost’s fist slams into his stomach. He buckles over in pain, crying out as he pants. Price doesn’t wait, striding over to him grabbing his hair, pulling his head back. 
“Okay, okay. But she was drunk!” He shouts, trying to fight Price’s grip. His arms and legs are tied to the chair. Price doesn’t let go of his head holding it back as far as it will go. 
“No. Try again.” Price says through gritted teeth. 
“I didn't do anything!” He says between breaths. Price looks up at Ghost and nods, Ghost unfolds his arms going back over to the car. 
“We can make this very uncomfortable for you. All we need is the truth.” Price says, pulling his head again. 
“I don’t know anything.” There’s a whimper in his voice, a crack in his confidence. They're getting there. Price forces his head straight as Ghost comes back over to them twirling the knife in his hand. Ryans eyes go wide, his arms and legs pulling on the restraints. Price keeps his grip firm on his head forcing him to look at Ghost’s hulking figure moving towards him. 
“Last chance.” Price says. Ryan doesn’t say anything, his eyes still locked onto Ghost. 
“I-I didn't-” He sucks in a breath of air swallowing. “She was drunk!” 
Price sighs, shaking his head. He looks up at Ghost, he can see the disgust behind his lieutenants eyes. 
Ghost plunges the knife into his thigh. Price lets go of Rhyn’s head as he screams.
_____________________
John left almost an hour ago. Johnny recommended a bath instead of a shower, so you could soak and warm up. He gets in the bath with you pulling your back up against his chest as you sit between his legs. The bath was a good idea, the water is almost too hot but you don’t mind. 
It feels good to be in Johnny’s arms. He helps you rub soap over your body. He’s gentle, pressing kisses on your shoulders avoiding your neck. You sigh, relaxing back into him. Your head is still stuffy, it feels like you’ve been run over by a truck. 
“Where is everyone?” You ask. 
“Out, they’ll be back soon don’t worry.” He says his voice is warm in your ear. His arms squeeze you closer to him. The memories of the night seem to be just out of reach, you remember a face though. 
“I know who it was,” you say your voice catches in your throat. 
“Shh, we don’t have to talk about it.” His hand comes to push hair behind your ear. You smile, you don’t want to talk about it but maybe it will help. 
“I have work tomorrow.” Your stomach sinks. The thought of going back to that place with him there. Having to spend the days avoiding him, brushing off his hands as they squeeze your ass or his fingers press against your breasts. You were going to talk to your boss about him in the new year. 
“No you don’t, don’t worry about anything.” He says kissing your shoulder again. You shiver, the water has lost its heat. Johnny shifts pushing you forward. 
“C’mon let’s get you into bed. You’ll feel better after a good sleep.” You don’t know if you believe him but he gets out the bath leaving you alone and cold. You feel dirty, used. You feel panic rising in your chest. As soon as you hear the door to the room open you lay down in the tub closing your eyes and holding your breath. 
Your mind goes back to the alley, it’s like flashes in your vision, the dump trash bin you’re uncomfortably bent over. A hand over your mouth then round your neck. The pain, the pain is unbelievable. You don’t remember how it happened, how you ended up there, the next thing you remember is a party of drunk women finding you. Then the paramedics showed up. 
Your lungs burn but you don’t care. You deserve the pain. Hands grip your arms pulling you up out of the water. 
“Christ love,” Johnny says, holding you against him as you pant sucking in breaths of air. The panting turns to sobbing. He reaches, pulling the plug out the bath and picking you up in his arms. 
“I know, love I know.” He takes you into the bedroom putting you down on the bed. You pull your legs up to your chest. Johnny dries you, rubbing you down while you sob. He brings pyjamas over, he helps you change, pulling the fresh clothes on you. You still feel dirty, maybe it will always be like this. You don’t want it to be like this.
“It hurts.” You say as he climbs into bed behind you. His arms wrap around you pulling your back against his chest. 
“You’re okay lass, you’re safe.” He kisses the top of your head. It’s not, it's not going to be okay. You just hope whatever the others are doing they’re safe. You miss them, you want to see them again. You want everything to go back to normal 
Simon crawls into the bed with you and Johnny. You’re asleep on Johnny’s chest. He shuffles up against your back wrapping his arm around you both. His hair is still wet from the shower. He kisses the top of your head. Johnny stirs feeling a hand grip his hip. 
“Did you get him?” Johnny asks, his voice still sleepy. 
“Yeah, we got him.” 
_____________________
917 notes · View notes
weirdmageddon · 11 months ago
Text
my friend came up with some jigsaw shit last night and im speechless
Tumblr media
alt text:
the smosh babies challenge
the challenge where you need to watch every episode of smosh babies within 24 hours
**you may**
- watch with friends who are also taking the smosh babies challenge. this may only be done over the phone or a voice call so you dont accidentally divert your attention from smosh babies during the challenge. while there is no limit on how many friends you can take the challenge with, managing your group and ensuring that nobody cheats makes the challenge significantly more difficult and is not recommended. the ideal group is 2-4 people
- take up to 3 breaks of any desired length
- eat while watching
-play with cards during breaks
- be creative during breaks (drawing, writing, singing, etc.)
**you may not**
- call anyone NOT doing the smosh babies challenge with you. the only voices you will hear during the challenge are the voices of those participating, and the voice cast of smosh babies. texting during breaks is still allowed.
- go on post-based social media until every episode has been completed. no tumblr. no twitter. nothing like that. this extends to public discord servers too. the only use case for social media is instant messaging apps to text people directly and stay in contact with the person youre executing the challenge with. if someone sends you a video, youre not allowed to watch it. you also cannot conspire to get your social media fix by asking people to send you screenshots. being in cahoots and trying to outsmart the system is considered cheating.
- be "desynced" with your friend taking the challenge. you must both be watching the same episodes at the same time. preferably using a screen sharing system or watch together app
- consume any sort of media during breaks or during the 24 hours the challenge is in session
- have other tabs or music open. no texting friends while smosh babies is in progress. you are allowed to text people during breaks. the only exception to the music rule is that you are permitted to listen to music during a 1 of your 3 breaks. it is highly recommended that you use your music break when you go to sleep. if you need to leave to go to the store or do something during a break and music is playing, that is ok. however, you are not to have any influence or control over said music. no loopholes
- draw or entertain yourself otherwise while smosh babies is on in the background. **you must pay attention to each and every episode of smosh babies. do not look for any sort of loopholes**
- skip the credits. drawing during the credits IS allowed, but ONLY if youre drawing the smosh babies. they must recognizably be smosh babies. no complicated abstractions or jumps in artistic logic to avoid drawing smosh babies. once the credits are over, you must" stop drawing. i personally recommend you use this time to draw as fast as you possibly can
- watch the episodes out of order
- watch the episodes at a faster speed
every episode must be watched to completion within the 24 hour timeframe
the challenge is officially over once every episode has been watched. your reward is a sinking feeling
and if you cheated, i hope you feel genuinely awful. the smosh babies challenge is a commitment. if you could only win by cheating, i need you to know that it was all worth nothing. im disappointed in you
for the worthy few
get smosh babying
4K notes · View notes
chelliebelle · 4 days ago
Text
mean colonel!caleb who loves giving the new recruits a hard time, especially the pretty ones. when you come in with a pretty face and nice tits, how can he resist? (cw: dubcon?? power dynamics, caleb is pretty mean in this)
Tumblr media
he’s relentless during drills, always seeming to pick on you over all the others. caleb gives you extra push-ups on a whim just to hear you groan in pain. the sight of you on the verge of tears from his nasty insults never fails to get him hard, especially when you start getting all quiet and nervous around him. you’re just so sweet and pliable that caleb can’t resist fucking around with you! after a few weeks, he decides he has to break you. 
in his office, he berates you for ranking last in all the assessments, threatening to send you home for such poor results. thankfully, you don’t notice him palming himself under the desk as he breaks the news. you immediately break down, pleading and begging for caleb to give you another chance—you’d do anything! it isn’t until you’re on your knees in front of him that you realize what anything really means. when you try to leave, his gravity evol keeps you glued to the ground. the tears running down your face only makes him click his tongue in disapproval. 
“stop fucking crying and show me why you deserve to stay.” 
he’s nice enough to undo his belt buckle for you, forcing you to drag down his zipper with your teeth. you mouth at the strained bulge in his boxers, lips trembling against him. it takes a while but you manage to pull his boxers down, leaky cock slapping against your cheek. caleb almost chuckles at the sight. he’s big and he knows it, with a girth that made your jaw sore and a length that made your eyes water whenever it prodded the back of your throat. you try to be good for him, licking up all the salty pre and bobbing your head enthusiastically. caleb seems satisfied, until your teeth accidentally graze his cock. you’re fucked.
a gloved hand tangles in your hair, hips thrusting forward until your nose brushes against his pelvis. your choked sobs only seem to turn him on, making sure to hit the spongy back of your throat with every thrust.
“you don’t even have any technique, how am i gonna come?” caleb growls, though the twitch of his cock tells you otherwise. you struggle to breathe, eyes glassy as he uses your mouth like a dollar store pocket pussy. 
he holds your head down when hot streams of cum shoot down your throat, nearly making you gag. you’re shoved off his cock with a wet pop! as you cough and try to catch your breath. caleb grabs your jaw, shoving his thumb in your mouth to make you stick your tongue out. when he sees that you swallowed all his seed, a cruel smile tugs at his lips.
“looks like you’re still worth something, rookie.”
Tumblr media
author's note: THIS MIGHT BE OOC BUT WHO CARES I SAW THE CLIP WHERE CALEB MAKES SOMEONE KNEEL WITH HIS EVOL AND I JUST KNEW IT'D BE PERFECT FOR HIM TO FORCE A PRETTY RECRUIT TO BLOW HIM <333 hope y'all like this tysm for all the love on this blog!!
490 notes · View notes
gyuwoncheol · 1 year ago
Text
Room Service
Tumblr media
↳ A part 2 to 15 Minutes
Pair: Scoups x f!reader
Genre: Smut, Concert!Cheol, husband!Cheol, dom!Cheol, 18+ only (MDNI).
Summary: The only thing hornier than pre-concert Cheol is post-concert Cheol. Lucky for you, you’re the only one in the world with an all-access VIP ticket to this immersive experience.
Warnings: Porn with plot, Concert!Cheol, dom!Cheol, daddy kink, breeding kink, big dick!Cheol, pussy drunk!Cheol, cock hungry!reader, so. many. orgasms., quickie sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), lots of making out, creampieS, slightly public sex, dick riding, manhandling, pussy slapping (like once), use of color system, overstimulation, body worship, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, spitting, crying during and after sex (but it’s not a kink), dirty talk, use of pet names (my love, baby, princess, baby girl, angel), fluff at the end. Please let me know if i missed something, i can’t remember all the filth. Not thoroughly proofread.
WC: 4.1k
Author's Note: Did I get carried away? Hell yes. is this the filthiest thing I’ve ever written? Could be. Except the other wip I have also for Seungcheol might just beat it. Thank you so much again for the love on 15 Minutes. I hope this 2nd part lives up to it.
Author's 2nd Note: For new readers, you don’t have to read 15 Minutes as this can stand on its own, but it would make more sense if you did read it.
Tumblr media
“My good girl.” 
Seungcheol chuckled as he plunged deep into your cunt, his cock pushing through your mixed cum that you so diligently kept in as instructed, “so good at following instructions huh?” 
“Fuck baby, you’re so messy” Cheol cursed, mouth watering at the sight of your stored cum slowly dripping out of your hole as he dragged out his entire length until only the tip was in. You groaned when you felt globs of it trickle down your thigh, your husband’s large hand slowly pushing you down against the back of the couch. You felt him engulf you, his chest against your back, hot breath on your ears, “cat got your tongue, babe?” The man teased just as he thrusted his length back into you, causing more cum to overflow from your hole.
It had only been roughly 30 minutes since the concert finally ended, the boys doing all the post show rituals from changing clothes to shooting backstage content, and as soon as that was over, Seungcheol had all but dragged you to another dressing room, not even saying anything as he unzipped your jeans and dragged your very soiled panties down. Not that you were surprised though, post-concert was always when Cheol was the horniest, with all that adrenaline still pumping through his veins.
You could feel the prominent vein on his cock drag through your walls deliciously as he alternated between slow and fast thrusts, an arm snaked around your torso while hot phrases flew from his mouth.
“Fuck, pussy so tight.” 
“All mine.” 
“I’ll give you all my babies.” 
“Gon’ pump you full.” 
“My good girl so desperate for cum.” 
“Cheol!” You screeched in between moans when you felt him hit that sensitive spot particularly rough.
“Did you watch me tonight, baby? Why weren’t you in the stands?” He asked suddenly, as if he wasn’t still railing you from behind.
“C-couldn’t g-go” you squeaked, willing yourself to form words when all you really wanted to do was whimper in pleasure, “had to… be— behave… fuck!” 
“Behave?” Cheol clarified even though he sensed where this was going. In all the times they rushed backstage in between sets, not once had you moved from your spot, sitting cross legged on top of the large black trunk cases situated right in front of the screen which broadcasted the events on stage.  “Words, baby” he said sweetly yet firmly when he saw you nod eagerly.
“Yes! Behave. Had t-to… k-keep.. shiiiiit,” you groaned, your elbows harshly rubbing on the leather material of the couch after another rough entry of Cheol’s cock, “keep da-daddy’s… cum… in me.” You finished off your defense and you could already see your husband’s smirk without even really looking at him.
“Aren’t. You. Such. An. Angel.” Seungcheol punctuated each word with a deep harsh thrust.
“And all yours.” You punctuated as you looked back at him, both your eyes glazing in lust. The loud sound of skin slapping skin and your pussy squelching at every thrust was unmistakable, the room smelled of sex. The group’s leader was sweating even more than he did when he got off stage, his warmth radiating onto your body as he kept you impossibly close to him, jackhammering his cock in your cunt. 
“Shit shit shit shit..” you cried out loud when his other hand suddenly rubbed fast circles on your clit.
“FUCK!” Seungcheol growled at your release, your pussy clamping down on him so tightly that it triggered his own. He stilled within you in an instant, bodies folded in half against the leather couch, your husband continuously muttering incoherent words as the feeling of your fluttering walls drove him to another level of cloud 9. 
“Yah! You two better eat already if you’re really planning to go all night” Seungkwan scolded in his best mom voice when the both of you entered the buffet area hand in hand.
You hid your face on Cheol’s shoulders, suddenly very aware of all 12 boys looking your way. They were very much aware of what you two had been doing and why you were doing it. In spite of the never ending teasing and playful disgusted looks they give their leader, the members had all told you they were excited for Cheol to become a dad mostly because it meant he’d get off their asses. 
“We’re actually going ahead. We’ll take a different car.” Your husband announced, a gentle squeeze to your hand when some of the boys howled at the implication of both of you going back to the hotel first.
“Really not wasting any time huh?” Soonyoung smirked despite having his mouth full of noodles 
“What? She’s leaving soon!” Seungcheol whined.
“Y/n still has a week left!!” Mingyu corrected with a roll of his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, still not enough!” Cheol replied. He gave a curt nod to Jeonghan, calling his name firmly as if to say ‘i leave the kids with you.’
“Hyung, seriously, you both have to eat.” DK was next to remind you both as he knows you’re both still running on empty stomachs.
“We’ll get room service,” your husband called out, inching closer towards the exit doors that would lead you to the vans.
“We hope it's the food kind! And maybe let y/n get some real sleep after!” Joshua’s reminder had you giggling, glad enough to know the boys still cared for you even though all you’ve done was hog all of Seungcheol’s free time.
Surprisingly, you had both managed to stay well behaved in the car ride home. If anything, you two were very sweet, your head resting on Cheol’s shoulders as he held your hand through the ride and absentmindedly played with your fingers. 
Even when you had both showered together in the hotel room, your husband did not try to make any advances, he simply cleaned you both up, even giving you a nice massage on your scalp when you lathered your favorite shampoo. 
Contrary to what his members may think, Seungcheol wasn’t too adamant about fucking you all night. He could see how tired you actually are and Mingyu was right, you did still have a week left with him. He just wants to make sure you are cared for like his queen this whole trip, whether that meant blowing your back or giving you 8 hours of sleep, he didn’t mind. 
“Tired, baby?” He asked as he secured the knot on your fluffy hotel robe.
You lazily smiled at him as you settled in bed, pulling him towards you for good measure. “I’m ok.”
“Hungry? Wanna get some food now?” 
“Want you to kiss me.” 
Seungcheol was taken aback by the boldness of your request, not because it was the first time you asked, but because you both have definitely done more than just kissing these past 72 hours. He smiled sheepishly as he climbed over you, settling on your side as his chapped lips kissed your soft ones. You clutched onto his hand on your neck, sighing happily when you felt him deepen the kiss. 
“Someone’s happy,” a low chuckle from your husband.
“Mhmm,” you hummed, “i love your kisses.” Despite the raunchy sex, there was always just something so nice and intimate about kissing your husband. His lips were always so plump against yours and the way he’d hold you securely always made you feel like you meant the world to him. 
“You’re so beautiful, i love you so much,” Seungcheol admired your bare face before sucking on your lower lip.
You moaned out an i love you too but it only got swallowed by the man who couldn’t get enough of you. You climbed on his lap, trapping him in between your legs, taking control of this little makeout session you were having. Inevitably, the more you kissed him, the more your hips moved on its own accord, grinding on Cheol’s robe-covered bottom half. 
You were moving erratically, wanting to chase a high you knew you needed if you were to fit Cheol’s dick again tonight. 
“Daddy, please...” you cried, annoyed that you just couldn’t get to where you wanted to be 
“Please what, baby girl?”
You whined desperately at the dangerously low tone in your ear, “please make me cum.” 
Record time is what you’d call it, the way Seungcheol went from flipping you over to casting your robe open to having his mouth suck on your clit harshly. You couldn’t even process it, all you knew was your throat was straining from how you were screaming his name with how he lapped at your cunt. His tongue licked bold stripes from your hole to your clit before he'd suck the sensitive bud. If there's anything Cheol has perfected, it's his hand-mouth coordination, the way he perfectly syncs his plush lips to suck at your clit while two fingers sink in you and curl to graze that spongy spot inside your walls. It should really have you embarrassed at how quick it could unravel the coil in your stomach. Your orgasm exploding in colorful bursts behind your eyes whilst soaking your husband's face in a mess. 
"I forgot how sweet you fucking taste," he groaned, slurping the juices leaking from your hole. He peeked up at you from where he was, your mouth agape and chest rising and falling while your fingers still gripped on his hair. You were hissing from oversensitivity but you should've known that post-concert Cheol was a starved man. When he deemed he had swallowed all of you, three fingers prodded at your entrance that had you arching your back from the bed only to be pushed down with your husband's free arm. "Stay still, baby. Daddy's not done yet." 
"Fuuuuuuck, " you panted, going delirious from the overstimulation your pussy was feeling. You writhed in vain as Cheol smothered your cunt like a full course meal. When you tried to squirm away, he delivered a slap to your pussy that sent shocks all over your body. "I'm cu- fuck! I'm cumming," you shuddered, thighs closing in on your husband's head. 
Seungcheol chuckled at your state, a proud grin across his face when he finally settled beside you. After pulling back to back orgasms from you in less than 10 minutes, he knew you were oversensitive and just needed to not be touched. "You okay, my love?" 
"Just.." you panted, "Just a minute." 
You rolled over on your stomach when you regained enough strength, and slowly but surely got on your wobbly knees to climb on your husband's thick thighs. Seungcheol wanted to squeeze your bare breasts but seeing as you were still slightly swaying, he decided to hold you securely by the waist. "what're you doing?" He mused while watching you fumble with the knot of his robe. 
His dick twitched at the sight of your lust blown, hooded eyes. "Daddy..." You smiled, god, you were so far gone, "Wanna ride you." 
Seungcheol moaned, hurriedly helping you untie his robe and throwing it to the floor. You salivated at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his stomach, red tip leaking with precum. Anchoring your palms on his chest, you kept your eyes trained on him as you sucked on your tongue before letting some of your saliva drool onto his length, your hand immediately gripping and spreading the fluid along his shaft, thumb grazing at the slit.
“Holy shit,” he cursed, hips bucking into your hand on instinct. A wicked smile crossed your face, delighted with the effect your actions had on him.
Cheol's eyes rolled to the back of his head when you finally let your pussy glide against his cock, coating it even more in your wetness.
"Fuck baby, what's gotten into you?" He hissed as you picked up your pace, grinding his cock against your wet folds, always making sure to let the tip kiss your clit when you move down. "So fucking needy for daddy's cock huh?" 
You moaned when one of his large hand squeezed your right breast and his dick leaked more precum onto his stomach. The sight of you, head falling back and mouth parted, was immaculate. He wished he remembered where his phone was right now, it would've been the perfect photo to take for him to get off on in the future. He committed it to memory as best he could, but even that thought immediately flew away when he finally felt you sink into his dick. 
"Oh my god,” you moaned in unison.
Seungcheol wasn't so sure if he was wincing from your nails digging into his chest or from the vice grip of your cunt on his cock, but either way, both felt like heaven to him. "Baby girl, you just came twice and you're still so fucking tight.”
"C-can take you, daddy. Please... p-promise!" You begged, lowering yourself to take in a few more inches of him. The stretch was familiar yet it still had you squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip. 
Afraid he wouldn't be able to stay still any longer, Cheol took the matter in his own hands, sitting up to bring your chest flush against his, connecting your lips in a heated kiss to distract you from the pain. He still tasted of you and a slight hint of your minty toothpaste. When he felt you relax, his strong hold sank you onto him until he was fully sheathed. You broke from the kiss, head falling back once again at the overwhelming feeling of being so full. 
"Cmon, baby, thought you wanted to ride me?" He sucked on the column of your throat, causing you to swivel your hips. "There you go. You can do it." God, his voice was so sinful it made your insides churn. Another strangled moan left your mouth when his wet tongue made contact with your right nipple, licking and sucking before he kissed between the valley of your breasts, only to nip at your left bud.
"Oh my god, Cheol!" You pulled at his hair, wanting him to leave your sensitive breasts alone. 
He laughed dryly at your attempt but still allowed you that space. He let go of your waist to lean back with his palms against the mattress to have a full view of you. "Cmon baby," He spurred on, "show daddy what you got." 
Choi Seungcheol was simply left with no regrets at his challenge. His eyes almost turned completely black when you decided to fully bounce on him. When you found a good pace, you alternated between bouncing and grinding, one hand squeezing your breast as the other held onto his knee for support. "Fuck, daddyyy," you cried at the stretch, and he could just feel your pussy clenching on his cock even more.
"So fucking needy," he spat, "Can't get enough of my cock." 
You shook your head at his words, mewling when your clit rubbed deliciously at his pelvis and his engorged head kissed your cervix. "D-daddy.." 
"That's it, baby girl," Seungcheol cooed, bucking his hips up to meet yours, "get off on me, ride me 'til you shake. Need you to cum, princess." 
Encouraged by your husband's words, you lifted ‘til just the tip was in before sitting down on him harshly. He continued to praise you and how delicious your warm pussy felt, a string of very lewd words produced with every swivel of your hips. Your face contorted in pleasure and he knew you were close, "touch yourself," came his instructions.
"shit!" You cursed, cumming on the spot when two of your fingers rubbed against your clit.
Seungcheol beamed at how well he knew you, your tells and your triggers when you're about to cum. But what he didn't see coming was just how fast the sight of you getting off on top of him would quickly bring him to the edge too. If he didn’t catch it at the last second, he might have just spilled in you.
In one swift motion, not even pulling out of you, he flipped you on your back and trapped you under his weight. You yelped when he pumped into you, catching you off guard as you were still trying to ride out your own orgasm. 
"Ba-aby, fuck. You're d-driving me insane," he growled, "don't you dare fucking close your eyes. Keep 'em on me." 
Your fingers weaved through his hair, as you desperately tried to follow his instructions. If only he wasn't hell bent on reaching his high, Seungcheol would've laughed at how often you'd train your eyes to look at him every time they kept trying to roll to the back of your head. "Daddy's gonna fuck a baby in you, you want that, princess?" 
"Y-yes daddy! yes!" You mewled, both your legs being lifted up, calves resting on Seungcheol’s meaty shoulders, while he inserted a pillow below your ass. "Fuck me full, daddy, please,” a breathless request.
He folded you in half, planting his knees on the mattress and bracing himself on your sides. Seungcheol drove his cock into you, hitting you so deep that you felt him just below your cervix and you moaned the loudest that night. Strangled moan after strangled moan came out of your mouth while throaty grunts and curse words flew off from his, all this mixed with the explicit sound of your sweaty bodies colliding.
"m-more, daddy! More, please!"  
"Fuuuuuuck, you're insatiable, so fucking tight," Seungcheol moaned. His movements were rough, pulling out of you completely before fully slamming back in and going deep with every move. The sex was everything close to animalistic, you could feel him in the deepest parts of you, consistently hitting a spot that made your brain short circuit. "So needy for my cum, want to be filled so bad."
"Daddy, so- oh my god. So fucking big.”
“Princess, I-I’m.. s-so...close,” he warned, staring at your teary eyes while your hands intertwined behind his neck. Seungcheol buried his cock in you, not bothering to thrust out of your grip, instead grinding endlessly to help stimulate your clit against his pelvis.
"Cum with me, Cheollie. P-please."  
Your husband growled before his hips jerked twice, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls white. His eyes boring into yours and the feeling of being so full only triggered your own release, rendering you into a babbling mess. Seungcheol connected your mouths in a kiss, not caring that you were already out of breath. He interspersed them with praises of how good you felt clenching on his cock. 
"I love you, Cheollie." 
"I know baby, I know. I love you too," he breathed, hissing at how hard he still was despite just hitting his climax. His dick was almost painful in your tight hold, "give me one more, yeah?" 
Before you could even process his question, you were already flipped on all fours, whining at the temporary emptiness. "Wha- Cheol, I-" 
"Be good for daddy, yeah? One more, princess. One more to get you round and full." But who were you to deny your Choi Seungcheol? Your husband who was just as ready to start a family with you like he's always dreamed of. Your arms gave way when you felt him breach your abused hole once more, your limp body allowing him to control your hips even more. He was kneading your ass, surely leaving handprints in his wake. 
"Ch- ahh!" You cried in a silent scream, the pleasure you were feeling just devouring your every being. You could feel the goosebumps rise on you scalp and run to the tips of your toes as Seungcheol pounded you from behind. "Cheollie... Oh.. oh! fu-uuuck." 
He pulled you by your hair harshly, your back flush against his chest, the low rumble of his voice affecting your body, "Call me Cheollie again and you won't get to cum." 
"Daddy!" you whined apologetically, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. 
"There you go, not so hard huh, princess?" Seungcheol teased, an arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cupped at your cunt. "Color, my love?" 
"G-green, daddy.. Pl-Please... just j-ust cum in me." 
"Fuck, you sound so broken... So greedy for my cum." Seungcheol relentlessly fucked up into you, until his pace grew erratic and bent you both forward. He stopped himself with his forearm to the mattress so as not to crush you, but with your muscles already weak, you simply face planted into the soft hotel pillows, drool and tears staining the white sheets.
"All mine," your husband chanted repetitively, stilling inside your pussy as it clenched around him tightly. Your orgasm rippled through you in a big tidal wave that Seungcheol could just feel your slick coat him anew. Your whole body shook uncontrollably, jolts of electricity alighting all your nerves. With one last loud call of your name, Seungcheol shot his load inside you, white ropes of sticky cum filling your cunt to the brim. His own thighs trembling as he finally collapsed on you, knocking out the little air you had left. He whispered i love you's to your ear, riding out his own orgasm which lasted longer than the both of you expected, especially when he just came a few minutes ago. 
In your two years of marriage, you don't think you've ever been this spent after sex, and neither did Seungcheol. But nothing catches his attention faster than the sound of you sniffing followed by a tiny hiccup. He moves up and pulls out of you so quickly that he hisses harshly, but you whine out even louder, causing alarm bells to ring in his head. 
"nooo..." you cry pathetically, your voice barely above a whisper, "come back."
"Baby, what's wrong?" Seungcheol pulls you towards him, eyes scanning your body for any abnormal pain, dreading the next few words out of his mouth, "did I hurt you?" 
You shook your head no, your hands grabbing at his chest to pull yourself closer to him and bury your face in his neck.
"Princess..." he started gently, still not completely sure if you were really okay. "I need your words. Need you to tell me if I hurt you." 
You choked as you tried to speak, voice straining from all the noises you've made tonight, but you were well aware your crying did nothing to comfort your husband. "I'm okay." 
"Was I too much?" 
"No. Never." You assured with a soft kiss on his chest. "So good to me." 
Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief at your words. "Wanna tell me why you're crying?" He asked, moving you both on your side so he could look at you properly, one hand soothing your back. His warm breath tickled your face, as he tried to wipe away your tears with the softest look in his eyes. 
You felt another squeeze in your heart while warmth crept up in your cheeks, both your hands instinctively covering your face when tears pricked at your eyes once more. You mumbled something but Cheol couldn't really understand and he didn't want to push, so he held you tighter instead, leaving kisses on your shoulder as his free hand brushed your hair. He could feel your tears wet his neck and shoulder and he willed himself to stay patient and calm. 
"I'm sorry," you squeaked after a long bout of silence between you two, "am I scaring you?" 
"A little bit," Seungcheol chuckled. 
You looked up into his eyes, wanting to make sure he knows he did nothing wrong, "I'm just overwhelmed," your voice began to crack again at the last word, "I... I just... I really want a family with you, Cheol," you sobbed, your hands attempting to cover your face again but your husband was quick enough to grab at them. His own cupped your face instead, a thumb wiping at your tears as he let out the brightest smile, his own cheeks dusted in a light pink shade. "I really want this to work, Cheol." 
"I do, too, baby but in our own time, yeah? If it’s for us, then it will happen one way or another. Let's not pressure ourselves too much. I don't want you to pressure yourself too much," your husband comforted, "Besides, with or without kids, I already have you... and Kkuma… you're already family to me."  
You were pretty sure you felt your heart grow a size bigger at his words, mentally thanking the heavens you had a husband who adored and loved you so much.
Your moment was cut off by the incessant buzz of a phone and when you looked towards the bedside table to check, sure enough your device was vibrating towards the edge. Picking it up to stop the ring, your eyes grew wide at the notification that flashed on top of the screen, a smile dancing on your lips as you comprehended the app’s words in black font.
"Cheollie?" 
"Yeah?"
"I'm ovulating."
Tumblr media
Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated ☺️
4K notes · View notes
chancloud8 · 30 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
CHAPTER 2
series masterlist
Pairing: OT8 x reader
Word Count: 4,8k
Tags: bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader, banter
Summary: you're still resisting your new bodyguards and while there seems to be a brat war going on between minho, seungmin and you, you slowly warm up to some of the others. a/n: I nearly deleted the whole chapter and started over like six times while writing this lmao. I hope you like it <3
Tumblr media
With Chan and Minho on your heels you storm into Yoona’s office without knocking. Luckily for you she’s not in a meeting nor is she on the phone or she would have probably fired your ass on the spot. Your manager looks up from her computer and frowns at you.
‘Where’s the fire, Nabi?’ 
‘Don’t Nabi me,’ you hiss, balling your fist to stop yourself from angrily pointing at her. You might be angry, but you still respect the woman. 
‘Ah, so you’re that mad at me,’ Yoona sighs, crossing her arms as she leans back in her chair. ‘Go on then, give me your worst.’ 
You grit your teeth and look over your shoulder at your two future bodyguards, pondering if you should really give Yoona a piece of your mind with them present. Chan looks worried, but when you meet Minho’s gaze he just raises his eyebrows at you, fueling your anger. 
‘They are not moving in with me,’ you growl, taking a step forward to create distance between you and the two men. ‘You can’t force this on me.’ 
Yoona stays silent, knowing you well enough that this won’t be all. 
‘You want them to follow me around all day, fine, but I’m not being watched twenty four seven, Yoon. Even Faris isn’t with me at night now, so why should they?’ 
‘Yeah and look what happened, some lunatic tried to break into your house,’ Minho mumbles. 
‘I moved!’ you yell, turning around to glare at him. 
Minho isn’t impressed and once again raises his eyebrows at you. ‘And you think that no one will find out your new address? I’m sorry to break your bubble, Princess, but stalkers are named just that for a reason and you have some real messed up fans.’ 
‘I also bought a new fancy security system,’ you cross your arms, not breaking your eye contact with him. 
‘Even those can fail, Y/N,’ Chan says, stepping forward with his hands raised as if he’s trying to show you he means no harm. ‘If something really happens it still takes a few minutes for someone to reach you.’ 
He has a point, but you’re not going to give up this easily. 
‘I’ll get a guard dog then,’ you shrug, only partly bluffing. 
Minho snorts and shakes his head. ‘You’re impossible you know, you should be grateful.’ 
‘Grateful?’ you laugh humorlessly. ‘Sure buddy, I’m oh so grateful that I’ll lose even more of my privacy.’ 
They really don’t get it, do they? As an idol you already have little to no privacy, your life being led by your manager and the company you signed under while the media and your fans watch your every move. You love the life, your fans and even the hard work you have to put in, but sometimes the sacrifices still hurt. Sometimes you wish you could experience normal life again, like going to the grocery store or the mall without security or people following you around. 
Minho glares at you and opens his mouth to say something else, but Chan steps in front of him. ‘And we understand,’ he says softly, smiling kindly at you. 
‘Well, I don’t,’ Minho grumbles. 
‘We do,’ Chan keeps his eyes on you as he speaks. ‘I know it will be a sacrifice to share your home with us, but Faris and Yoona picked this house for a reason.’ 
You glance at Yoona and she nods. 
‘It might be a big house, but I’ll still know you’re there. I’ll never be home alone. I won’t be able to walk around in my underwear in my own fucking home or dance on the table while eating ice cream straight out of the carton.’ 
‘You still can if you want to,’ Chan grins. ‘But I get your point and I promise you that we’ll try to be as invisible as possible.’ 
‘There must be another way? Can’t you take turns guarding my door or something?’ you try again. 
‘Selfish much,’ Minho says under his breath and this time Chan also glares at him. 
Anger starts to bubble up in your belly again, but before you can even think about yelling some more, Yoona appears next to you. She wraps her arms around you and presses a kiss against your temple.
'Just get over it, darling, this is happening.’ she says. ‘Now go home and enjoy the peace and quiet while you still can. Tomorrow Minho, Felix and Hyunjin will join you for training and by this weekend they will all move in.’ 
You open your mouth to protest some more, but Yoona is already walking back to her desk, letting you know that this conversation is over. You know her well enough to know that no matter what you say or how much you beg, she won’t change her mind on this. When you risk to glance at the men, Minho grins at you and Chan smiles. 
‘Fuck my life,’ you mutter. 
****
You don't talk to any of the men again and just ask Faris to take you home so you can spend the rest of the day mopping in your room filled with unpacked boxes while Faris sits downstairs doing god knows what.
The next day you feel a little better and when you eat your breakfast you text Jisung.
You: Sorry about storming out yesterday.
Jisung:You’re already forgiven (by me at least)
You: Tell Minho to leave his judgement at home
Jisung:How did you know I was with him?
You:Lucky guess. Will you be at the company today?
Jisung:Yes, I'm already on my way. Chan is picking you up.
You frown at your phone and look at Faris who's reading the paper across from you while sipping his tea.
'You’re not coming with me today?' You ask him, pushing away your half eaten bowl of porridge.
Faris looks up with a smile. 'Ji-a has an appointment I'd like to be at, so I asked Chan to be with you until I'm back.'
'Oh, of course,' you give him a small smile in return. 'You should definitely be with Ji-a.'
Faris folds up the paper. 'It will be good for you to spend some time with him, Nabi, just give him a chance.'
'Yeah, okay,' you nod. 'I'll try.'
‘Good,’ Faris smiles. ‘I’m sure you’ll grow to love them.’
‘We’ll see,’ you smile back. ‘Chan and Jisung seem really nice at least.’ 
When the man beams at you, you promise yourself you’ll try to be a bit easier on the whole situation, if only to make Faris happy. 
Chan arrives shortly after you clean up your breakfast and you quickly grab your bag and trusty water bottle, trying very hard not to stare at how good he looks in his dark blue suit. It's a crime really and you already know that one of these days he’s going to catch you staring. 
‘You ready?’ Chan asks.
You nod and wave at Faris. ‘Give Ji-a my love.’ 
‘Will do, Nabi. Try and not piss off too many people today, yeah?’ 
You laugh. ‘Can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.’
Chan chuckles as he holds open the front door for you. ‘Should I warn the others?’ 
You shrug as you follow him to the car, already taking out your phone to text Jisung you’re on your way. He quickly replies with a thumbs up. 
‘Why don’t you sit next to me?’ Chan asks when you reach the car. ‘I’d like to talk a bit if that’s alright.’ 
‘Oh, sure,’ you nod before walking around the car to get to the other side. 
The smell of coffee and sandalwood hits your nose as you get into the passenger seat and you smile in surprise. There’s two to go cups on the dashboard and the sandalwood must either be Chan’s cologne or some sort of car perfume. It smells nice. 
Chan sits down behind the wheel and when you’re buckled up he reaches for one of the coffee cups and hands it to you. ‘Faris said you like cappuccino.’ 
Your mouth forms a surprised ‘oh’ and you happily wrap your fingers around the cup. ‘Thank you,’ you smile genuinely at him. ‘Caffeine is the way to my heart.’ 
Chan chuckles and starts the car. ‘I’ll remember that.’ 
You take a sip of your coffee and close your eyes when the creamy taste of a perfect cappuccino hits your tongue. 
‘Where did you get this?’ you ask Chan, twisting the cup in your hand to look for a logo or anything that will tell you where it’s from. 
‘It’s self made,’ Chan says, his eyes on the road. ‘Do you like it?’ 
Your eyes widen in surprise and you take another sip, nodding happily. ‘You made it? It's delicious.’ 
‘No, I don’t like coffee, but we have a fancy coffee machine at our dorm. The guys are very particular about their coffee and prefer to make their own.’
‘I guess that will be one pro about you moving in,’ you sigh. ‘So who made it then?’ 
‘If I tell you, will you tell them thank you?’ 
You look at Chan with narrowed eyes, taking notice of the grin on his face. 
‘It’s Minho isn’t it?’ 
‘Yes, he’s the coffee king in our dorm.’ 
‘Damnit,’ you mutter. 
Chan laughs and you can’t help but smile. His laugh is adorable and you notice he giggles a lot too. It doesn’t fit his bad boy image, but you like it. 
‘So, will you?’ Chan asks, looking at you. 
‘Thank him? Hmm probably not.’ 
‘Why not?’ 
You snort. ‘He’s a brat.’ 
‘He says the same thing about you,’ Chan smiles. 
‘Of course he does,’ you roll your eyes and take another sip of your coffee. ‘He’s lucky he makes good coffee.’ 
‘He’s also a really good dancer.’ 
‘And you’re not just saying this cause you’re biased?’ 
Chan laughs again and damnit you could get used to that sound. ‘I probably am, but both Minho and Hyunjin danced professionally before they joined the program. Minho has even toured before.’ 
You blink at that piece of information and purse your lips. He must be good if he toured with an idol before, they don’t just hire anybody. 
‘What about Felix?’ you ask, steering the conversation away from Minho. 
‘He mostly danced for fun, but took a preference to martial arts. He’s very flexible and I’ve been told he picks up choreography crazy fast.’ 
All of this makes you very curious to see the three of them in action in a bit and a small part of you secretly hopes that they’re not as good as Chan and Yoona say, because if they are, it gives you one less reason to dislike them and you’re not ready to make friends with either of the men that are rooting up your privacy. 
During the rest of the ride you stay silent, looking out of the window and humming along with the music Chan puts on. He doesn’t push you to talk and you’re grateful for that. Chan seems great and you’re sure that in time you’ll get along splendidly, but for now you simply refuse to make too much of an effort and if that makes you the brat Minho thinks you are, so be it. 
The company building looms up before you and you quickly finish up your coffee as Chan maneuvers the car into the parking garage. As soon as the car stands still, you open the door and jump out, not waiting for Chan. 
‘Y/N!’ Chan calls out after you. ‘Wait up!’ 
You ignore him and press the button for the elevator, tapping your foot as you wait for the doors to open. Luck isn’t on your side and it doesn’t take long before footsteps sound behind you. Gritting your teeth in annoyance, you turn around to face Chan while trying to decide if you should apologize for running or not. 
Your eyes widen when you’re not met with Chan’s face. 
‘I knew you’d be a runner,’ Seungmin says, shaking his head like he’s disappointed to be proven right. 
Before you can argue, Chan appears beside him, frowning and holding your water bottle in his hands. Shit. The look on Chan’s face actually makes you feel guilty for running out on him like that.
‘I’m sorry,’ you say. ‘I–’
‘Are you though?’ Seungmin interrupts you, crossing his arms. 
You glare at him. ‘I am actually, stop being a–’ 
‘A little brat like you?’ a new voice pipes up. ‘That’s impossible.’ 
Minho. Of course. 
You roll your eyes at him and turn to face the elevator again. ‘Please, I just walked to the elevator without Chan, if that makes me a brat, it makes you a bit of a drama queen don’t you think.’ 
A hand grabs your wrist and pulls so you have to turn around. 
‘I don’t,’ Minho glowers at you. ‘We are here for a reason and you better start to accept it soon or one of these days something will actually happen.’ 
‘Min,’ Chan puts his hand on Minho’s shoulder. ‘Let’s all calm down here.’ 
The elevator doors finally open and you pull your wrist out of Minho’s grip and get inside, pushing the button for the second floor. 
‘Yes, calm your ass down, nothing happened,’ you mumble in their direction. ‘I was without Chan for about ten seconds.’ 
‘That’s all it can take,’ Seungmin says, standing beside you. 
Chan gives you a pleading look as if to say ‘please don’t fight this.’ 
You hold up your hands in surrender, but you don’t say anything. The tension in the elevator is thick and you're glad it’s only a short ride up. Minho leaves without saying anything else and you’re already dreading dance training later. 
‘Come on,’ Chan says, gently placing his hand on your back and pushing you in the direction of your studio. ‘I think we need to have a proper talk.’ 
Seungmin follows and you can’t help but throw him an annoyed look over your shoulder. He just rolls his eyes at you and you grit your teeth, looking ahead again. You might try with Chan and Jisung, but Seungmin and Minho could bite your ass. 
‘Here,’ Chan says, handing you your water bottle. ‘You left this when you jumped out in a hurry.’ 
You open your mouth to apologize, but Chan shakes his head and gives you a sad smile. ‘No need to apologize when you don’t really mean it. I’ll earn your trust eventually.’ 
God damnit, why does this man need to have such adorable puppy eyes and cute dimples you want to poke with your finger. 
'Good morning!' Jisung greets you with a grin when you step into his office. He’s behind his desk that’s littered with papers, two cups of coffee and an empty bowl that probably held ramen if you guessed the smell that lingers in the room correctly. ‘How are we feeling today?’ 
‘She already ran away from Channie Hyung,’ Seungmin says as he drops down on the couch. 
You groan in annoyance. ‘I don’t think you can count walking ahead to the elevator as running away, but okay.’ 
‘You still should have waited for me,’ Chan says, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. ‘I don’t care that we’re inside your company, you need to stick close to at least one of us at all times.’ 
‘Okay,’ Jisung claps his hands. ‘I see you’re all feeling fine on this beautiful morning, but I haven’t had enough coffee yet for arguing.’ 
‘Preach,’ you mumble, sharing a grin with your new assistant. 
‘You had two coffees already,’ Chan frowns, eying the two cups on the desk. 
‘One actually, the other one was Minho’s,’ Jisung says and he chuckles when you pull a face at his name. ‘How about we all take a little time to wake up some more. Maybe you guys can get us some more coffee while I talk with Y/N here about some of the rules we came up with?’ 
‘Rules? Jisung, come on, I thought you were on my side here,’ you sigh, pouting at him. ‘I’m not a child, you don’t have to give me rules.’ 
‘Apparently we do,’ Seungmin says. 
‘You’re really getting on my nerves here, buddy,’ you glower at him. ‘If anything it’s behaviour like yours and Minho’s that sets me off, so how about I give you some rules of my own huh?’ 
Seungmin snorts and cocks his head. ‘You have no say in this, missy, you’re not our boss.’ 
Jisung quickly grabs your arm when you’re about to jump forward. 
‘Minnie, get the fuck out of here,’ Jisung says, pointing to the door with a serious look on his face. ‘You’re not helping.’ 
‘Yeah, minnie,’ you grin. ‘Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.’ 
Seungmin just laughs and stands up, holding your gaze. ‘Sure thing, but remember that I’ll be watching you closely, little fly.’ 
‘Seungmin,’ Chan’s voice sounds stern and you grin at him, waving sweetly. 
‘Bye now.’ 
‘You know you’re not helping, right?’ Jisung chuckles, letting go of your arm as Seungmin and Chan disappear into the hallway. 
‘I know, he just brings out the worst in me I guess,’ you admit with a grimace. ‘You might have already gathered this, but I don’t really like to be told what to do and I’m very stubborn.’ 
‘You don’t say,’ Jisung gasps, acting like he’s surprised. 
‘Oh shut up,’ you laugh. ‘You would be too when you’re a famous idol with no real say about basically anything you do. I can’t really act out about it, because I chose to be here and I’m grateful about it too, but sometimes it just gets too much you know. I guess you guys are just an easy target for me to lash out at, at the moment.’ You blink when you realize what you just told him and clear your throat. ‘I didn’t mean to drop that on you, sorry.’ 
‘Don’t be,’ Jisung says, grabbing your hand and giving it a little squeeze. ‘I’m glad you did. I can’t even imagine the pressure you must be under constantly and us coming in after what I think is a pretty scary moment in your life, probably doesn’t help.’ 
‘Not really, but maybe Minho was right and I should be a bit more grateful, at least towards my company, that they care enough about me to hire a shit load of bodyguards.’
‘Maybe,’ Jisung smiles. 
‘If you tell Minho I said that, I will kick your ass,’ you threaten. ‘I’m nowhere near ready to be nice to him.’ 
Jisung laughs and holds up his hands. ‘My lips are sealed, I’m just glad you’ve seemed to accept me at least.’ 
‘You’re very easy to like,’ you shrug. ‘And maybe it helps that you also pose as my assistant, so it feels less like you’re watching my every move.’ 
Jisung hums. ‘Maybe, but I’ll be with you just as much, if not more.’ 
For some reason that thought doesn’t bother you as much and you sigh, leaning against the desk. ‘Well, since I like you right now, let me apologize in advance for when I’m in a mood. Caffeine and food usually helps though.’
‘Good to know, are you ready to go over some of our rules now?’ 
‘What if I say no?’ 
Jisung chuckles. ‘I’ll email them to you, print them out and hang them all over your studio and I’ll keep texting you until you read it anyway.’ 
While you only just met him yesterday, you somehow know he would actually do all that. 
‘Fine, tell me.’ 
‘It’s pretty simple actually. You’re not to go anywhere with at least one of us present, even inside the company.’ 
You make a face, but don’t interrupt as Jisung continues. 
‘If you need to go to the bathroom we won’t go in with you obviously, but other than that you shouldn’t be alone unless it’s in the comfort of your own bedroom of course. If you want to go out, just tell us in advance so we can scout the area if needed and make sure there’s enough security. When you want to go somewhere with Felix, Hyunjin or Minho, someone else still needs to go with you so your fans will know you always have a bodyguard.’
‘I’m sorry, I know I’ve asked this a million times already, but is this really necessary? You talk like I’m a fucking royal in line for the throne.’ 
Jisung shrugs. ‘Until Chan and Yoona feel the threats against you are down and there are no more assaults, yes we do think it’s necessary. I know it seems excessive, but trust me that you’re not the only idol who gained a team of bodyguards.’ 
Somehow that thought hasn’t even crossed your mind. It makes sense though, with the increase of accidents and violence against idols, especially the girl groups and solo artists. It’s insane really and it makes you sad to live in a world where people think it’s okay to act like this. 
‘I didn’t know that. I really need more friends in this idol world,’ you mutter, looking down at your hands. 
Sure you met other idols before and while you get along great with a few, they were all in groups and you always feel like the odd one out when you hang out with them. 
Chan comes back inside then, carrying two coffee cups and a brown bag. ‘I come bearing treats.’ 
You share a look with Jisung. ‘Bribing me with caffeine and food, huh I see how it is,’ you joke, remembering what you told Jisung earlier and loving how Chan’s lips immediately turn up in a smile. 
‘Don’t tell me you’re that easy,’ Jisung laughs next to you, poking your side. 
‘Yah!’ you squeak out. 
Jisung’s eyes sparkle. ‘Are you ticklish?’ 
‘No.’ your eyes widen. ‘You just startled me.’ 
No way are you going to let him know this weakness of yours. Besides, you can get crazy violent when someone won’t stop tickling you. You once kicked your uncle in the face when you couldn’t breathe anymore from laughing. 
‘Mhm, sure,’ Jisung grins, but he doesn’t try again and turns to Chan to grab the coffee. ‘Thanks Hyung.’ 
After your second coffee, Chan comes with you to your studio and you spend the rest of the morning working on your new songs with your headphones on. Occasionally you glance up to look at Chan, but never meet his gaze as he quietly works on his laptop. 
At first it goes well, you’re in a nice flow and happy with the results, but then you get to the song you’ve been struggling with for over a month already. There’s something missing, there must be, but you just can’t put your finger on what it is exactly. 
‘Ugghh,’ you let out a frustrated groan when you listen to it again, letting your head drop to the desk with a loud thud. 
There’s a headache developing behind your eyes and you blindly reach for your water bottle. Your fingertips touch the bottle, but it’s too far away to actually reach it. With another groan you lift your head and stretch your arm a little further. 
‘You doing okay over there?’ Chan asks from his spot on the couch, his voice sounding far away thanks to your headphones. 
‘Peachy,’ you reply, pulling the bottle towards you with a victorious smile. 
You pull your headphones down to hang around your neck, chug some water and then turn your chair to look at Chan properly. He’s already looking at you, a frown on his face and you can basically taste his disapproval. 
‘Don’t even try and lecture me on working this long without breaks and for not having proper light, I know this headache is my own fault,’ you say before he can even open his mouth to scold you like Faris usually would. 
He blinks in surprise, but then he lets out a laugh and nods. 
‘Alright, I won’t say anything, but do you want to tell me what’s troubling you?’ 
It’s your turn to blink at him now. ‘Huh?’ you let out dumbly. 
Chan laughs again and gets up from the couch, putting his laptop aside. He pulls out the second chair at your desk and sits down next to you, his head tipping towards your computer. 
‘You’re obviously struggling with something. Is it lyrics? The beat?’ 
Your first instinct is to snap at him, to tell him to mind his own business, but he’s looking at you so sincerely that you can’t help but sag your shoulders and give in. 
‘I’m not sure actually, that’s the problem,’ you admit, debating if you want to play the song for him or not. Faris did tell you that Chan, Jisung and Changbin used to make music. Fuck it. You’re going crazy if you don’t fix this anytime soon. ‘Would you like to hear it?’ 
The surprise is clear on Chan’s face, but he nods immediately and holds out his hands for your headphones. Nervous butterflies twirl in your stomach and with a deep breath you hand them to him before you can change your mind. He puts them on and gives you an encouraging smile. 
Biting your lip you press play and watch as his eyes widen when the music starts. It's a catchy beat and you can’t help but smile when his head starts to bop up and down. His face doesn’t give anything away and you nervously play with the bracelets around your wrist as you wait for him to finish. 
‘Wow,’ Chan says, putting the headphones down. ‘I knew you were good, but this..’ he shakes his head with a smile. ‘It’s really good Y/N, like really really good.’ 
You feel your cheeks heating up at his praise. ‘Thank you.’ 
‘I think I know what you mean though,’ Chan says and he points at your laptop. ‘May I?’ 
You frown and look between him and your precious laptop that holds all your hard work. 
‘I think it’s a very easy fix with the beat in the bridge,’ Chan smiles. ‘You can do it yourself, I just want to point out where I think it is.’ 
It’s clear to you he knows what he’s talking about and you’re curious to find out which part he means. You slowly push your laptop over to him and get rewarded with a wide grin. For the next hour the two of you work on the bridge, editing and adjusting the melody. Your cheeks hurt from smiling when the song keeps sounding better with every adjustment you make. 
‘You could be a producer,’ you tease, when Chan offers another idea to add to the song. 
A knock on the door causes the two of you to look up and you don’t know why, but you feel like a kid getting caught stealing candy. It’s not like Chan isn’t allowed to help you, but it hits you then what you’re doing and your body tenses anyways. 
‘Hyung? Noona?’ a deep voice calls out that you immediately recognize as Felix. 
‘Come in,’ you yell, quickly saving the progress of your song and closing your laptop. 
The door opens and Felix sticks his head inside, grinning when he sees you and Chan huddled together at your desk. You quickly jump up, causing both men to laugh at the panicked look on your face. 
‘No worries, I won’t tell Yoona or Minho you’re warming up to Channie Hyung,’ Felix smiles. 
‘That’s not it,’ you blush, turning around to grab your bag and water bottle. ‘I’m late for practice aren’t I?’ 
Felix nods. ‘Minho sent me to get you.’ 
You growl at the sound of his name and Chan snickers, standing up as well. ‘I’ll walk with you and get you some food seeing as you haven’t eaten anything since this morning.’ 
‘You don’t have to, I don’t think I can eat much before dancing anyways or I’ll feel sick.’ 
‘I have a banana in my bag if you want,’ Felix offers, rummaging around in his bag and holding up the yellow fruit for you. 
‘Perfect, thank you Felix,’ you smile, accepting the banana. You turn to Chan as you start to peel it. ‘I promise I’ll eat a proper meal after practice. You should have lunch, I’ll be fine with Felix here, right?’ 
You bite off the tip of the banana as you look at Felix and the blonde nods, his eyes flicking to your mouth for a moment before he blushes and looks at Chan. 
‘We’ll be fine Channie,’ he agrees with you. ‘It’s one floor down and Minho and Jin are already there warming up with the others.’ 
‘Alright, just keep an eye on Minho. These two are likely to bite each other's heads off,’ Chan sighs, patting Felix’s shoulder. 
You snort and take another bite of your banana. 
‘I’ll bite something else if he isn’t careful.’
Tumblr media
a/n: I wanted to add dance practise to this chapter, but it already got way longer than I planned so next chapter it is ;) I really hope you still like it, even if it might move a little slow -i guess thats slow burn and a multi chaptered fic tho- big smooch to you all <3 taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @girl-in-love-with-kpop @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @corgilover20 @littlelostdemonofthelight @stephanieeeyang @zulie-and-cats @chanshugsaretherapy @pizzalove5000 @dazzlingjade @milie-com @thequibbie @channiesrightasscheek @strawbrriz @eastjonowhere @stellmeiv @bookishcaptain @flylis @deadpool15 @0325ale @thatgirlangelb @iknow-uknow-leeknow @nchhuhi @shycreationdreamland @readr1221 @beewilko
414 notes · View notes
f0point5 · 10 months ago
Note
i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body
Me too! GOD. Me, too.
It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!
Tumblr media
✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨
Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush
Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.
You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.
This guy must be really fucking interesting.
You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.
It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.
It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.
“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”
GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”
Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”
Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”
Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.
“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.
“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”
Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.
“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.
“Max,” GP sighs.
“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”
GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”
“I’m not jealous.”
And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.
Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”
You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.
“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.
GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”
You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.
“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.
Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.
“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.
The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.
“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”
“My what?”
“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.
He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.
Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.
He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?
He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.
“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.
He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.
“Right, so,”
1K notes · View notes