#if you're going to have her as a character in your fic that's great! step two is Make her a character

[minyard-05]

can we get a katelyn mackenzie who isn't just there as a plot device or an addition to aaron's character. can we get a katelyn mackenzie who isn't just there for good advice and comfort, can we get a katelyn who doesn't just calm people down and always have a plan and she gets angry when she's lied to or ignored and she argues back and she doesn't always know what to do or how to help and she loves aaron but she also knows what she's worth and she won't settle for less than that. i know she's not much in canon but we have the power of fanfiction we can make her so much more. let her speak. let her be a character. let her play a role that isn't just the girlfriend of the side character or the pissy ex or the fridged love interest. let her not forgive and not be perfect and let her fight back and let her be angry and let her not always fix aaron's problems for him What i'm saying is katelyn mackenzie deserves better

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[genshinluvr]

The Nation of War

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Upon stepping foot in the Nation of War, Aether and Paimon offers to give you and the men a tour around the beautiful nation. However, during the exploration/tour of the nation, you all meet Aether and Paimon's friends from the Pyro Nation. One friend in particular captures your attention— and it is not human. Also, are you allowed to have... pets (?) at the abode?

Note: Since the little Tepetlisaur Whelp we meet in Genshin doesn't have a specific given name, I decided to name the Saurian "Dakarai" for this fic and any future fics he makes an appearance in. I named my Saurian companion because it's fitting, and I don't have the heart to change it to something else. If you're not a fan of the name I picked for this fic (and future fics if he makes an appearance), then feel free to change it! :> Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of 🤔 Natlan characters are probably out of character. Zhongli and Neuvillette being jealous again (hehehe)

Word Count: 5.4k

“Remember to stick close to us so you won’t get lost. We’ve been to Natlan many times and would hate for you to get lost.” Paimon says, looping her arms around yours as you, Paimon, Aether, and the others enter the Nation of War. 

Is Paimon referring to the time when you got lost in Fontaine and Wriothesley and Neuvillette were the ones who found you? If so, she didn’t need to call you out like that. Sometimes, your sense of direction is great! Other times… not so much, but not once has it gotten you killed!

You look at your surroundings in awe. Natlan is a beautiful nation— wait, is that a dinosaur? You snap your neck to look at the others, pointing at the tall creature with eyes the size of saucers. Aether chuckles and pats your head. “I had the same reaction when I first saw the long-necked rhino,” Aether says.

“Is there a reason why you brought us to Natlan? Not that I’m complaining, I’m rather curious.” Diluc says, crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a step closer to you in case a Fatui Agent decides to attack.

You rub the back of your neck before raising your hand. “It’s my idea to go to Natlan, actually.” After hearing countless stories about Natlan from Aether and Paimon, it makes you want to visit the nation. A nation that has roaming dragons— also known as Saurians, how can you not want to visit?

“What are we going to do in Natlan aside from exploring?” Gorou mutters, looking at his surroundings curiously, his ears twitching at the littlest unfamiliar sounds around him. 

Aether and Paimon shrug while you continue to look at the wild Saurians with excitement. There are so many of them roaming around! And some of them have human companions by their sides! From a distance, a small roar pulls you out of your thoughts. You turn to see a small Rex Lapis-looking creature charging at your group at full speed.

Itto stretches his arm out in front of everyone, glaring at the approaching creature. “Don’t worry, everyone! I’ll protect us all from this tiny menace!” Itto announces.

In the blink of an eye, the creature burrows into the ground, disappearing from sight. Itto blinks and lets his arm fall at his side, confused about where the little creature has disappeared off to. The small creature hops from the ground, roaring almost cutely. It waddles towards Aether and Paimon, bouncing with excitement.

You cover your mouth, suppressing a squeal. “Who is this cutie?!” You coo.

Paimon props her hands on her hips and floats beside the adorable creature. “[Y/N], everyone else, meet Dakarai! He is our,” she gestures to her and Aether, “traveling companion! He’s a Tepetlisaur Whelp.”

Dakarai, the Tepetlisaur Whelp, looks at you curiously, tilting his head to the side. You quietly squeal, taking a few steps toward the Saurian and holding your hand out for him to sniff. Is that what you’re supposed to do when introducing yourself to a creature? Dakarai leans toward your hand, sniffing your hand while gazing at you curiously.

“You’re so cute, Dakarai,” you whisper, continuing to examine the adorable Tepetlisaur Whelp. “Can I bring you home with me?” You pet the adorable Saurian as he excitedly roars.

Your heart feels like it can burst at any second because of how cute Dakarai is. He’s half your size, so you don’t think you can sneak him back to the abode if you did try to bring him back. Are you even allowed to take Saurians out of Natlan? It’s not a crime, is it?

Thoma sighs, crossing his arms over his chest while shaking his head, pouting. “I can’t believe that I’m jealous of a Saurian,” Thoma mutters, chuckling to himself.

Ayato chuckles, watching you and Dakarai interact with each other. The Tepetlisaur Whelp examines you from head to toe curiously, shuffling from side to side to get a 360 view of you. You did the same, cooing over the littlest thing Dakarai does. You’re almost in tears over how cute the Tepetlisaur Welp is, holding back the urge to bring him into a crushing hug and take him back to the abode. 

Ayato leans towards Thoma, not taking his eyes off you and Dakarai, whispering, “We should keep an eye on [Y/N] in case they try to Saurian-nap Dakarai.”

Thoma hums, nodding in agreement with the Kamisato Heir. Dakarai turns around, wiggling his tail, when you notice the orange-yellow handkerchief wrapped around it. Paimon and Aether tell you the backstory of the said handkerchief. 

After explaining the backstory, the journey to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame continues. Of course, Dakarai tags along. Instead of being by Aether and Paimon’s side, Dakarai sticks by you while you continue to fight the urge to snatch him up.

Kaeya chuckles, shaking his head while he watches you pet the top of Dakarai’s head. “It looks like another dragon has captured [Y/N]’s heart,” Kaeya comments, glancing at Zhongli and Neuvillette from the corner of his eyes (eye?) with a teasing smile.

Zhongli and Neuvillette huff, looking away from Kaeya’s teasing gaze. Dakarai is adorable, yes, but is he powerful enough to protect you from harm's way? Probably, but Zhongli and Neuvillette digress! There’s a dark aura surrounding both Zhongli and Neuvillette as they watch you fawn over Dakarai. You stop in your tracks and snuggle the Tepetlisaur Whelp after getting approval from Dakarai. Dakarai is more than happy to be on the receiving end of your affection, wrapping his arms around your waist while you hug him tightly. 

Thunder cracks in the distance as dark, ominous clouds roll in, replacing the once-sunny sky. Everyone freezes while Dakarai tilts his head, trying to process where the sound is coming from. 

You slowly release the Tepetlisaur Whelp, looking at your beloved boyfriends worriedly. “I didn’t know it was going to rain today,” you say, propping your hands on your hips as you listen to thunder clapping in the distance. 

Rain has yet to pour, thank the Archons, but you and everyone else still have a long way to go. You turn to Neuvillette, who has a stoic look on his face. You two make eye contact, and he quickly diverts his attention elsewhere. You frown and look at Zhongli, who shakes his head with disapproval before walking towards you.

Zhongli sighs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “No need to fret, dearest. I came prepared for situations like this,” Zhongli says, pulling out an umbrella.

Dakarai roars softly, staring at the umbrella curiously. Zhongli holds the umbrella towards Dakarai’s direction, watching the Tepetlisaur Whelp sniff and analyze the contraption. After sniffing and analyzing the contraption, Dakarai takes a step back and looks up at Zhongli. Zhongli smiles and presses his hand on Dakarai’s head, gently petting the creature. You squeal, pulling a Kamera out of your satchel, and quickly snap a photo of Zhongli and Dakarai together. Zhongli and Dakarai freeze when the light flashes, blinking at you.

Childe clears his throat, wraps his arms around your waist, and rests his chin on your shoulders. “Snookums~! I understand you love taking pictures of things that make you smile, but I think we should continue our journey to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, or else we’ll get rained on,” Childe says, gesturing to the even darker sky. 

Scaramouche rolls his eyes, muttering, “For once, I agree with this idiot.”

Childe ignores Scaramouche’s comment and proceeds to drag you towards the Stadium of the Sacred Flame. Everyone follows closely behind, and of course, Dakarai is by your side. Occasionally, you will bring your Kamera out to snap pictures of nearby Saurians from a safe distance. As much as you want to run up to one and snatch one up for yourself, seeing the fully grown Tepetlisaurs scares you, and you don’t want to be tossed around in front of your beloveds and the Tepetlisaur Whelps.

“Aether! Paimon! Is that you!?” A girl hollers from a distance.

Aether stops in his tracks and turns to see two girls and a boy barrelling toward him and your group. The two girls stop in front of Aether and Paimon, tackling them into a hug. Aether and Paimon greet the two girls while you and the other men awkwardly stand there.

An obnoxious voice interrupts the sweet reunion, “Aw, how sweet! A reunion between friends from afar! Barf!” You turn to see a small floating creature— what is he exactly?— approaching your group with a bluish-black-haired male following behind. 

The man rolls his eyes, giving your group an almost sympathetic look. “Ignore Ajaw. This is how he usually is,” the man says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh? I’m surprised you have this many friends, Aether. Is it hard to tolerate someone as annoying as him?” Ajaw asks, snickering.

Everyone stares at Ajaw, unsure of what to say. You, on the other hand, look at Ajaw from head to toe. For someone as small as him, he sure is bold. You’re not sure how the man beside the small creature tolerates that much annoyance. Noticing your stare, Ajaw flies towards you, floating really close to your face.

“Hey, you! You look interesting out of the bunch— or should I say, you look boring compared to the rest of the group! Ha! What makes you so special, huh?” Ajaw asks, flying around you like an annoying fly. “Everyone has a vision, minus yourself! Heh, I bet you’re not—” 

“Alright, that’s enough, Ajaw,” the bluish-black-haired man interrupts the creature. 

The creature— Ajaw, gapes at the man before sputtering incoherent nonsense, thrashing his tiny arms around. Without a single word, the man brushes Ajaw away, sending him into the air before disappearing. Everyone shields their eyes, searching for the flying menace, only to no avail. 

The man sighs, shaking his head. “I apologize for Ajaw’s behavior. I would say that he wouldn’t do it next time, but…” he trails off, rolling his eyes. 

Paimon clears her throat, nervously laughing. “Let me introduce you all to each other! This can take some time.”

Both Aether and Paimon take turns introducing each person to their friends from Natlan. Ajaw definitely doesn’t need an introduction, and thankfully, he’s not present throughout the entire introduction. The introduction itself doesn’t take as long as you thought it would. However, after the introduction, Ajaw did return, much to your dismay.

“We can show you around Natlan if you’d like! Although I’m not sure where you guys are headed to…” Mualani trails off, stroking her chin.

Venti shrugs his shoulders. “We’re okay with going anywhere! We initially plan on going straight to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame! But we’re open to going anywhere since Windblume has been taking a lot of pictures!” Venti says, throwing his arm over your shoulders.

Kachina’s eyes light up, excitedly running up to you. “Oooh! What did you take pictures of? Can I see?” Kachina enthusiastically asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

You smile and happily show the collection of images you took while exploring the Pyro Nation. Most of the pictures are of Saurians— Tepetlisaur Whelps, to be more specific. They’re just so cute that you couldn’t resist taking photos of them from a safe distance. One photo that stands out from the rest (your favorite photo) is a selfie of you and Dakarai. 

Kinich looks up only to see you attempting to carry the Tepetlisaur Whelp. Dakarai squirms in your arms, looking around quizzically. You place Dakarai on the ground, panting. Archons, it’s like holding a mini boulder. 

Mualani giggles and covers her mouth. “It looks like you’re incredibly fond of Tepetlisaurs! If you’d like, I can show you a spot where many of them are usually gathered,” Mualani offers, nudging you lightly with her elbow. “The skies have cleared up, so they should be around!” 

Your eyes light up. “Ooh! Can you?” You squeal.

Mualani and Kachina giggle, grabbing hold of your wrist before dragging you in the opposite direction with the others watching. Xiao looks over at Zhongli and Neuvillette from the corner of his eyes; the two men look displeased. The once-gray skies have cleared up, but it looks like the rain clouds will be showing up in a moment.

The group follows you, Mualani, and Kachina to where the Tepetlisaur site is located. Once everyone arrives at the site, there’s a lot of Tepetlisaur and Tepetlisaur Whelps roaming the area, minding their business and not knowing what’s to come. 

Mualani turns to you. “You can admire them from a distance! I don’t recommend getting close to them because they can and will attack you if you come any closer,” Mualani instructs.

You nod, pull your Kamera out, and start taking pictures of the Tepetlisaur and their Whelps. Neuvillette watches you take pictures of the Saurians, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh. The light gray skies gradually become darker as time goes by. Wriothesley clears his throat, patting the Iudex’s shoulders.

“It’s alright, Monsieur Neuvillette. I’m sure [Y/N] doesn’t love the Tepetlisaurs as much as they love you,” Wriothesley reassures the Chief Justice of Fontaine. 

Neuvillette ignores Wriothesley’s comment and continues to watch you fawn over the Saurians. Neuvillette glances at Zhongli, who seems content compared to himself. Zhongli looks at the sky, then at Neuvillette. The two of them stare at each other, communicating through body language. 

You squat on the ground, taking various images of the Tepetlisaurs. While you’re distracted with capturing images of the adorable Saurians, you fail to notice one Tepetlisaur Whelp approach you from behind. The small creature tilts its head to the side, looking at you from head to toe with curiosity. 

The Tepetlisaur Whelp lets out a small roar, startling you. You turn to see the Tepetlisaur Whelp gaze at you, waddling from side to side to get a better look at you. You’re not sure if you should be afraid or coo at the Whelp. The small roar of the Tepetlisaur Whelp catches the attention of other nearby Whelps. They slowly migrate towards you, making you a little anxious. It’s not that you’re afraid of them potentially attacking you, but you’re more worried about the adult Tepetlisaurs charging at you for being in the same vicinity as their babies. 

Tighnari’s ears perk up with alertness, looking at the others worriedly. “Oh, dear. We need to get them out of there, or else they’ll become an easy target for the adult Tepetlisaurs,” Tighnari says.

“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” Cyno mutters, gesturing towards your direction.

Everyone’s heads snap in your direction only to see a hoard of Tepetlisaur Whelps surrounding you. Thankfully, none of the Whelps are attacking you or charging at you. They stare at you curiously, some roaring cutely and others shuffling around you. Dakarai waddles toward you, only for you to realize that Dakarai is a bit bigger than the other Whelps. 

You squat, holding your hand out. The Tepetlisaur Whelps sniff your hand, blinking at you. One Tepetlisaur Whelp, in particular, nudges its head against your leg. You stare at the Saurian, wondering if it's trying to attack you. It didn’t seem hostile— or, at least to you, it seems harmless. 

You randomly pick up one Tepetlisaur Whelp, holding it out in front of you. You and the Whelp stare at each other without saying a word. The Tepetlisaur Whelp blinks at you, tilting its head to the side curiously. You softly squeal, refraining from hugging the adorable Saurian. The Tepetlisaur Whelp tilts its head back and lets out a soft roar. 

You turn to look at the others, nearly dropping the Saurian in your hands. Everyone has their weapons drawn, and you realize you have a shield around you— thanks to Zhongli. You place the Tepetlisaur Whelp back on the ground, unsure of what to do next. Do you continue taking pictures of the Tepetlisaur Whelps, or do you run for your life in case the adult Tepetlisaur charges toward you? 

Kaveh clears his throat, cupping his hand around his mouth, shouting, “[Y/N], darling, slowly make your way towards us. Try not to draw attention to yourself!”

“Since you decided to become a megaphone, I highly doubt the Tepetlisaurs will be paying attention to [Y/N] after that,” Al Haitham comments, shaking his head.

You slowly walk toward your beloveds and new friends without looking back to see if the Whelps are watching you. Dear Archons above, you sure hope the adult Tepetlisaurs didn’t notice the swarm of Whelps around you. Who knows what will happen if the Whelp’s parents notice their babies being so close to a human?

Once you stand in front of your beloveds, Paimon, and new friends, you notice they’re not looking at you anymore. In fact, they’re looking behind you and at the ground. The shield around you disappears, and you feel something nudge at your legs. Just as you’re about to look down, Mualani launches at you.

“I don’t recommend looking down! While the Saurian is nudging at your legs, it’s completely harmless! However, our time is up! I want to show you another area that has two other types of Saurians! Have you ever heard of Koholasaurs and Yumkasaurs?” Mualani asks, looping her arms around yours as she quickly pulls you in the opposite direction.

You shake your head, allowing Mualani and Kachina to pull you wherever they desire. They both lead you to the top of the mountain, showing you the beautiful landscapes Natlan has to offer. While being able to view almost the entirety of Natlan is a wonderful opportunity, you can’t help but feel nauseous after seeing how high up you all are. 

This new area is different from where you were prior. There’s a sizeable body of water where the Koholasaurs and Yumkasaurs are roaming around, living in harmony. There are a couple of Whelps scattered in some areas of the Teticpac Peak, though you hardly see any of the Koholasaur Whelps. The Koholasaurs remind you of sharks but with arms and legs and are oddly muscular. 

“Are you sure it’s safe to be in this area?” Baizhu asks, pulling out his first aid kit just in case.

Kachina giggles and nods. “Of course it is, Doctor Baizhu! As long as we keep our distance and don’t come too close to the Whelps, we should be safe here!”

“That doesn’t sound as reassuring as you want to make it,” Heizou laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

Capitano sighs, shaking his head. “I’ll keep watch of [Y/N] as they take pictures of the landscape and creatures.” Capitano doesn’t leave room for protests as you nod, grabbing hold of Capitano’s hands and pulling him to an area where you can take pictures of the Saurians without disturbing them. Capitano stands close to you, scanning the surrounding area.

Kinich eyes Capitano before turning to look at everyone, who seems to also be on edge, while the other three look pretty content with the Harbinger being so close to you. Kinich sighs, eyeing the Harbinger from head to toe.

“You don’t have to worry over anything, boy. With Capitano around, [Y/N] is safe.” Pierro says gruffly. 

Kinich analyzes each man in the group— every man has their eyes glued on you and nothing else. Of course, they will check the surroundings to make sure nothing is creeping up on you and Capitano (mainly you), but Kinich can’t put his fingers on it. Kinich clears his throat to grab the group’s attention but to no avail. These men are not taking their eyes off you at all, and seeing how they immediately drew their weapons when the Tepetlisaur Whelps surrounded you says so much without being blatantly obvious. 

“What is [Y/N] to all of you?” Kinich asks, finally grabbing everyone’s attention.

Kazuha chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “[Y/N] is someone very precious to us all. We love and cherish them and will protect them at all costs,” says Kazuha, the apples of his cheeks turning bright pink.

Kinich raises his eyebrows at Kazuha’s answer. Kinich understands what Kazuha is implying, but he doesn’t want to make an assumption out of an innocent answer. But he is right, though, right? 

Noticing the strange look on Kinich’s face, Dainsleif sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “[Y/N] is our partner,” Dainsleif says, almost rolling his eyes.

Ajaw’s jaws drop at Dainsleif’s response, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. It’s almost comical to everyone. Mualani and Kachina glance at each other, shrugging their shoulders. Hey, if it works, it works. Who are they to judge? 

Kinich strokes his chin. “How does that work? Aren’t there issues with sharing a partner?” Kinich mutters, raising his eyebrows at the men before him.

Albedo shakes his head in response to Kinich’s question. “We learn to make it work between us all. There are many things to learn and get used to, but it works. We all share something in common aside from our love for [Y/N],” Albedo explains, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“What’s so appealing about someone so… bland? There’s nothing special about them at all!” Ajaw snarks.

Pantalone chuckles, smiling at Ajaw. If people look closely, there’s a dark aura surrounding Pantalone as he tries to remain calm and polite. How much longer can he keep up his facade with a little shithead like Ajaw around? The little floating menace to society constantly insulting you just for existing has been getting on everyone’s nerves since the meeting. 

“I would keep my comments to myself if I were you, Ajaw. You disrespecting someone important to us will get you nowhere,” Pantalone says, clenching his jaws.

Ajaw bursts out laughing, relishing the fact that he manages to get on every person’s nerves. All he has to do is insult you and question these men’s choices. Kinich sighs and apologizes to the men for Ajaw’s behavior before temporarily banishing Ajaw.

“If you cannot keep your companion’s mouth shut, I think it’s best for you to keep your distance from [Y/N]. We wouldn’t want someone like Ajaw near them,” Xiao states, crossing his arms over his chest while staring at Kinich with disapproval. 

The tension is cut by the sound of you gasping. Everyone’s heads snap in your direction to see you and Capitano surrounded by Koholasaur and Yumkasaur Whelps. You look at the others with wide eyes; they can’t tell whether it’s from fear or excitement. You mouth something to them, but they can’t decipher what you’re trying to communicate. 

“Can someone tell me if I’m hallucinating? Those creatures behind [Y/N] are Tepetlisaur Whelps, correct?” Lyney asks, turning to the men.

Dottore turns to Mualani and Kachina, raising his eyebrows at the two girls. “I thought Tepetlisaurs aren’t in this particular area,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.

You and Capitano are surrounded by Tepetlisaur, Koholasaur, and Yumakasaur Whelps— though the Tepetlisaur Whelps outnumbers the other Saurians. The Tepetlisaur Whelps roars around you, waddling and gazing at you curiously. So far, none of them have yet to attack you and Capitano. If they were to try to attack, you know Capitano would not spare any of the Whelps, no matter how cute they are. 

Paimon strokes her chin, scrutinizing the Tepetlisaur Whelps. “That’s odd. If this area doesn’t have Tepetlisaurs around, then how did these little guys end up on the Teticpac Peak?” Paimon exclaims, propping her hands on her hips as she bobs up and down in the air.

Capitano looks down at you after feeling you lightly poke his arm. “Yes, what is it, [Y/N]?”

You clear your throat. “You’re not going to attack the Whelps, are you? They’re little babies, and I don’t think they can cause that much bodily harm, right?”

Capitano sighs. “I will not harm them, [Y/N]. However, if they inflict harm on you, I have no other choice but to protect and defend you from any harm heading your way,” Capitano replies.

While you want to protest against hurting the Whelps, you can’t help but feel giddy over the fact that Capitano is devoted to protecting you. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you look away from Capitano, feeling his eyes burn holes into the back of your head. Dakarai roars softly, tugging on your pants while looking up at you with curiosity. Now that you have Dakarai beside you, you realize that he’s a little bit bigger than the other Tepetlisaur Whelps. 

Dakarai roars again, almost like he’s asking you if you’re okay. You smile and squat in front of him, gently petting his head. Dakarai nuzzles into your hands, closing his eyes with contentment. 

“I’m alright, Dakarai. There’s no need to worry about me, little fella.” You reassure the Tepetlisaur Whelp.

Dakarai roars softly, flapping his arms around. The other Saurian Whelps around you watch the interaction between you and Dakarai curiously. To them, it’s strange to see a species like them interact with a human— one they are not companions with— so effortlessly. A human such as yourself interacting with an overgrown Tepetlisaur Whelp is foreign to them. Usually, a human with no vision or Saurian companions steer clear. 

A much smaller Tepetlisaur Whelp waddles up to you and stands beside Dakarai, softly roaring to get your attention. The Whelp tilts its head at you, blinking. You and Dakarai trade looks with each other before you slowly reach forward to pet the Tepetlisaur Whelp. The Saurian closes its eyes and leans into your touch. You lightly scratch behind the ears, watching it start kicking its feet— almost like you found the perfect spot to itch. You hold back a squeal, watching the feet kick become faster before it tips over and stumbles into your arms. 

Zhongli hums, stroking his chin. “The Tepetlisaur Whelps must have followed us to the Teticpac Peak by burrowing under the ground the entire way here from the previous location,” Zhongli murmurs, watching you interact with the Whelps that surround you and Capitano. 

Kachina giggles, clapping her hands. “That’s correct, Mister Zhongli! And given by the body language and expressions of the Whelps, they seem to really like [Y/N]!” Kachina squeals, grinning from ear to ear. 

The Whelps that surrounds you and Capitano ignores the towering figure of the Harbinger. Their focus is on you, staring at you expectantly. You make sure to give each Saurian Whelps attention, not wanting any of them to feel left out. The Yumkasaur Whelp purrs as you pet its head, rubbing its body against your arms, reminding you of kittens. Kittens do that, and so do dogs. As for Yumkasaur Whelps, they remind you of kittens with their mannerisms. They hiss when they see something unfamiliar or try to intimidate something they deem a threat to their safety. 

While most are hesitant to be around you (who can blame them?), their worries are quelled when you respect their space after one of them hissed at you. Capitano isn’t too pleased that you’re friendly with the Whelps, but hey, as long as they don’t hurt you, he will tolerate the (admittedly) cute interaction between you and the Whelps. 

“Do you guys have any pets by any chance?” Mualani asks, not taking her eyes off you.

Aether shakes his head. “We don’t, but we do have a Paimon,” Aether replies, gesturing to the floating girl beside him.

Paimon gasps and exclaims, “Hey!” She stomps her feet in midair, glaring at her blond companion, “Paimon is not a pet!”

“That’s why he said ‘a Paimon,’” Venti interjects, chuckling at the fuming girl.

Rapid footsteps approach the group, grabbing their attention. You stand before them with one Tepetlisaur Whelp dangling from one arm and a Yumkasaur Whelp on the other, smiling at them eagerly. The Koholasaur Whelp is draping around your neck, resting on your shoulders while gazing at familiar faces with curiosity.

You hold up the Whelps, gazing at your beloveds with sparkles in your eyes. “Can we keep them?” 

“Absolutely not,” Neuvillette immediately shoots down your question. Neuvillette stares down at the Whelps in your arms (and around your shoulders), a dark aura surrounding him.

The once blue skies in the Teticpac Peak gradually turn into an ominous dark gray, thunder cracking in the distance. Mualani, Kachina, and Kinich rub the back of their necks as they watch the scene in silence. You pout and hold them close to your face, giving Neuvillette and the other men puppy dog eyes.

Wriothesley chuckles, rubbing your head affectionately. “I don’t know about that, dollface. Do we have the space for Saurians to roam in the abode?” Wriothesley asks, propping his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrows at you.

“But they’re so cute!! Look at their little faces!” You coo, snuggling up against the Saurian Whelps. “How can you say no to them?” You pout.

Childe hums, stroking his chin. While the Saurian Whelps are adorable, letting them reside in the abode isn’t the best idea. It’s not like Childe doesn’t want to deal with dragons— he already has to deal with Zhongli and Neuvillette. What’s the difference?— he doesn’t want those little scaled creatures to steal your attention away from him! 

“They are adorable, but…” Childe trails off, reaching forward to pet your head. “If we let them live with us, the other two dragons will become jealous and territorial.” Childe gestures to both Zhongli and Neuvillette behind him. 

“If Zhongli represents Tepetlisaurs and Neuvillette represents Koholasaurs, then who represents the Yumkasaurs?” Lyney asks, scanning the crowd of men around him while stroking his chin and tapping his right foot on the ground.

Cyno points at Tighnari. “I believe Tighnari is the perfect representation of Yumkasaurs if you ask me.”

Tighnari sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Tighnari’s not one to play into this shenanigan, but he can see it. Mualani clears her throat, gesturing to Kinich without making it obvious (she failed; Kinich notices her gestures almost immediately). Kinich rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Kinich’s not sure if he wants to get involved after seeing how overprotective these men can become when it comes to you. Besides, he doesn’t see you in the same light as the other. 

“A dragon would never explode, but a dino might…” Cyno mutters, pressing his lips into a thin line to suppress the shit-eating grin slowly appearing on his face. 

Tighnari groans, shaking his head. “Cyno, please, let’s not joke about this right now,” Tighnari pleads. 

You look at Zhongli and Neuvillette, giving them puppy dog eyes as you continue to get the Whelps cling to you. Zhongli and Neuvillette scrutinize the creatures surrounding you, their arms crossing over their chests— their chests puffing out, almost to assert dominance over the Saurians. 

“Dearest, as much as I hate to decline your requests, I believe it is not a good idea to take Saurians outside of Natlan,” Zhongli says, hesitantly reaching forward to pet the Tepetlisaur Whelp in your arms.

Your eyes water for a dramatic effect, forcing your bottom lips to quiver. “But Zhongli, look how cute they are! They even followed us here!” You’re not hurt or offended over the fact that you’re not allowed to bring Saurians back to the abode. You’re only sad because the Whelps are incredibly adorable, and you can’t bring them back because they’re wild creatures, and you can’t have them as a companion.

Neuvillette huffs, looking away. “You have us. Why would you need another draconic companion?” Neuvillette mutters.

Dakarai roars, almost agreeing with Neuvillette. You place the Whelps on the ground, making sure to pet Dakarai’s head before turning to Neuvillette and Zhongli— both visibly pouting. You grab both their hands and gently squeeze their hands, giving them a reassuring smile.

“I’ve never seen them this pouty before,” Thoma mutters to Xiao.

Xiao rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “You should see those three alone. It’s almost pathetic.”

Neuvillette and Zhongli glare at Xiao and Thoma, shutting the two up. Zhongli and Neuvillette proceed to drag you away, with Dakarai and the rest of the men trailing after you three. So much for getting a tour around the Nation of War. Maybe next time, the tour won’t be interrupted by Saurian Whelps crowning you as their leader (and you trying to bribe the men to let you bring Saurians to the abode). 

Note: Before I typed this fanfic out, I was planning on having the reader be the creator, but I ended up changing my mind. For those who have been asking me in the inbox about Kinich being part of the harem, here is your somewhat answer! He made an appearance! However, I'm not too sure if I'll add him to the harem. As long as he's an adult, then yes, there's a chance he will be added to the harem. The only issue is my portrayal of Ajaw because I don't have Kinich, so there's a possibility of him and Ajaw being out of character. Anywho! To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

I'm doing taglists again! If you don't want to be on the taglist, please let me know so I can remove you from the list :) Taglist: @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @rubyninja1, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: please enjoy the first chapter!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“No, no, not the pink, red,” you cup your hand over your ear pod, “exactly what it says on the order sheet.” 

Were anyone to see you, sitting in the dirt, with a brush in hand, all alone, they might think you’re a bit out there. You, talking to the air, dusting off a clump of soil, orchestrating your own voice with the bristles. You dip your head as you focus on what the voice in your ear is saying. 

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” you argue, “I put in the order weeks ago. A red bow. I have the receipt– I mean sure, pink or red doesn’t matter to me but it’s not my birthday.” 

“We’ll see what we can do,” the woman relents. It’s not exactly a triumph but as close to as you can hope. If it’s pink, you’ll just have to take the fall. The damn fondant will be devoured by the night’s end anyhow. 

You hang up with a double tap on the ear pod and your playlist resumes. You go back to trying to uncover the shape caked in layers of muck, turning the brush to chip away the rougher bits with the pointed tip. The work is tedious but it has to be. You can’t risk damaging the relic nestled inside. 

The abrupt chiming of your ringtone once more sounds through the bluetooth earpiece. You huff and hit the pod with the heel of your hand. You greet the call with only your name. 

“Are you still on site?” Your boss, Arturo asks. 

“Yep, still here,” you still your hand and twist your arm, pulling back the end of your glove to see your watch, “just a bit longer. You know I have that thing tonight.” 

“Uh, yes, I recall,” he says dully as you hear paper shuffling, “you got time to chat?” 

“Sure,” you keep the cluster of dirt and the brush in one hand and use your other to push yourself to your feet, “I just gotta catalogue this before I finish the day.” 

“Well, I have good news and bad news,” he begins as you carefully walk between the cordoned off patches. The whole place is a maze of where and where not to step. You go into the tent and put down the half uncovered idol. It’s brittle, made of hide and yew, with a bit of bone. “Lucia is pregnant.” 

“Oh? That’s great,” you furrow your brow, wondering what that has to do with you. 

“Means she can’t travel for a while. She’s adverse to long term commitments at the moment so…” 

“So…” you trail off as you label the mound of dirt and make notes for the next day. 

“So, you want her assignment?” 

“Which one?” You peel off your gloves and shake off the excess filth. 

“Norway. It can be a bit dingy but the landscape is nice.” 

“Norway? For how long?” You close up the ledger and tuck it away on the shelf. You pass between the tables of artifacts as you pull out your phone. 

“Could be a while but I figured you never get to go very far. You’ve been pent up in-state for so long, you could use the vacation.” 

“Oh? Well, I…” you scroll through your phone and see the notifications. Emails confirming delivery, messages asking if everything is sorted. “I’d have to think about it…” 

It’s evasion more than indecision. You know you don’t want to go. You can’t go. Your whole life is here. You have an apartment and friends and… Steve. Your best friend.  

“Make sure you do think about it. It’s a great opportunity. Especially for a junior anthropologist. Lucia won’t be on leave forever.” 

“I know. I’ll think about it.” 

You hang up and pluck the earbud out. Ugh, you’re covered in dirt and dust. You don’t have time to go home and shower. You knew you wouldn’t. You have to be at the venue before everyone else. You can change there and try to wash up in the sink. Whatever, no one’s going to be looking at you anyway. It’s Peggy’s night. Yay. 

You lock the fence and tug one last time to make sure it’s secure. You drag your boots across the thinning grass to your car parked on a stretch of gravel. You drop inside and hit start. You connect to the bluetooth and get some tunes going. You buckle your seat belt as you check the mirrors. You’re probably going to have to speed there. 

You back out as the music blares from the speakers. It’s not loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Why did you agree to this? Peggy doesn’t even like you. Oh, but she likes Steve. She is his girlfriend and you are only his best friend. You’re supportive. You keep your mouth shut and smile. 

Ugh. You squeeze the wheel until your knuckles hurt. You know why you offered to help plan the surprise. You’re pathetic but you’re not delusional. It meant you got more time with him. There hasn’t been much of that since Peggy came along, not just the two of you. 

Classic, isn’t it? In love with your best friend. Friends since college. Friends forever, you vowed naively, thinking that forever would never come. Nothing lasts that long, you can only hope to outlast Peggy. 

And if you don’t, maybe this crush will finally run its course. 

💟

Red and white streamers decorate a long table set with trays. There’s a banner over it that reads ‘Happy Birthday, Peggy’, and a stack of gifts already forming in the corner. Guests drift in with anticipation as you hurry around to check off all the items on your list. 

You fix a small vase of flowers, trying to hide the droopy one in the back, and tug a wrinkle out of a tablecloth. You smile and wave at those who are early as you weave between them. You pull out your phone and lean it on the clipboard angle in the crook of your elbow. They’re on their way, okay. Keep it cool. 

As you come to the kitchen door, you nearly collide with someone else. Sam touches your arm gently as he keeps you from tripping backward. You gasp and hug the clipboard with a wobbly grin. 

“Hey,” you greet breathily, “you’re here.” 

You look down at the guest list and check him off. 

“Ah, figured I’d make an appearance,” he kids, “Rogers would take it pretty rough if his best pal wasn’t here.” 

“Please, don’t start that with Bucky again,” you warn as you point the pen in his direction, “the two of you, in fact, are seated separately.” 

“No fun!” He whines dramatically. 

You scrunch your lips at him and peer around. Yes, none of this has been fun. Caterers, servers, tables, space, food! Yes, you were going to check on the cake. Your sole squeaks as you twist sharply and go to slam your hand into the door. 

“Hey,” Sam blocks your way with his arm, “before you disappear, you’re still wearing your boots.” He points to your feet, “in case you’re wondering about the snail trail.” 

He sweeps his finger up in a gesture alluding to your previous path. You glance over at the dirt littered in your stead then down at your dusty boots. You sigh and hang your head back. 

“Fuck!” You snarl. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a broom,” he assures you, “while you take a breath. You need it.” 

“I can’t, Sam, they’re already on their way. I still have to get everyone in their place and… quiet,” you scowl, “ugh, this is gonna be so bad. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“So… why’d you do it?” He asks as he drags his hand away from the doorframe. You look at him and blink slowly. You shrug. 

“I’m a good friend,” you insist. 

He gives a skeptical hum and nods, “sure are,” he grumbles, “too good, if you ask me.” 

You throw up your hand before turning into the kitchen. You don’t have time to worry about him. Is he jealous that you’re helping Steve so much? Or does he know something else? You don’t let the seed sprout as you nearly cry out at the sight of the cake. 

A pink bow. Jeez. Of course. You check the cake off your list, nearly tearing through the paper. It’s better than nothing, even if Peggy never settles for less than the best. 

There’s no time to complain or send it back. Your phone vibrates again. Five minutes. Your heart is racing. Why? This isn’t even your party. You just want it to be perfect for Steve. You hate to disappoint him. Ever. 

You really shouldn’t care that much but you do. Like so many other things in your life. 

💟

The crowd can't keep quiet. There's a low buzz that ripples through the guests. A wave of anticipation that's spread like a deadly virus. 

You feel a nudge in your side and peek over as Bucky sends Sam a sneer and wriggles in place. Those two never let up. You hiss at them to quit and they look as guilty as a pair of unruly children. 

"He keeps tickling me," Bucky whispers. 

"No, I'm tryna fix his hair, look at this mess," Sam flicks a strand away from Bucky's cheek, "this is a nice event, Buck, not your living room." 

"Both of you," you warn.  

"You're bitching at me when Indiana Jones here brought the dig with her," Bucky mutters. 

You look down. Dammit. You still didn't change out of your boots. You roll your eyes. It's not about you. It's Steve's night. Er, Peggy's.  

You shake out your nerves and shake your head, "you two," you step behind Bucky and insert yourself between the men, "behave." 

"Yes, mom," Sam snickers as Bucky groans and tries to smooth the few shanks that have slipped free of his low ponytail. 

You exhale and give an exasperated look to the door. You really can't handle them on top of everything else. You just want this night to end already. All your hard work and you won't even get to enjoy any of it. 

"Everybody," Natasha hisses as she runs away from the doorway, "they're coming." 

The group quiets, as much as they can, a collective bated breath as you wait and listen. The lull is unbearable as the heat of the bodies around you pricks sweat down your neck and across your scalp. The door begins to open, almost as if in slow motion, and as the guest of honour is revealed, you cry out. 

"SURPRISE!" The eruption of the chorus has your head spinning as Peggy gives a melodramatic swoon, grabbing at Steve's arm as she leans on him heavily. 

She parts only to fan her eyes and squeal. "Oh my god, you guys!"  

She teeters on her heels as people holler happy birthday and her group of girlfriends flutter over to wrap her up in a cacophony of giggles and preening. You smile, a bittersweet twitch in your cheek as you watch her spin back to Steve and pull him into a kiss.  

You're happy for them really, proud to see all your effort come to fruition, but you just feel so hollow. For an instant, you think it should be you right there, gushing in glee over the celebration of another year, with Steve beside you.  

You gulp down the jealousy and wiggle your nose to ward away the tears. That's a stupid thought. If it hasn't happened in more than a decade, it's not going to happen now. 

💟

As the guests disperse into their own conversations, you finally manage to wade through to the happy couple. You approach with a small wave at Steve. He doesn't see you, he's watching Peggy as she chats with Natasha. 

"Hi," you call above the din, "so, you like it?" 

Steve turns to you, confusion stitching his forehead before he registers your questions. He nods and gives a smile, "it's amazing, you did so good!" 

The sparkle in his eyes, the perfect line of his jaw, the way he's looking at you, it makes your heart rend. You tilt your head and dig your toe into the floor bashfully, "thanks. I'm so happy to see it come together." 

"Um, the cake," he brings his index finger up, "I was hoping to bring it out soon." 

"Er, yeah, it's back in the kitchen. About that–" 

"Great," he claps your shoulder and brushes by you, "just gonna put the finishing touches on it." 

"Hm, what do you–" 

He's gone before you can finish your question. You deflate just a little, setting your feet flat as you sway aimlessly. The motion hooks Peggy's attention. You give a sheepish smile as you wring your hands. 

"Oh, uh, just came over to wish you a happy birthday," you chirp, "are you enjoying it?" 

"Ah, I didn't see you here, I thought maybe you were busy…" she gives a pointed look to your boots, "working." 

"Um, yeah, no," you fidget, "always happy to come support you two." 

"Where is Steve?" She gazes past you, shouldering by dismissively, "he was just…." 

Right. You nod and flit away in embarrassment. You can't say you ever got along with Peggy. Where you're accommodating, she's a bit too demanding. Different people, but you don't dislike her. You just don't mesh. Or perhaps it's just that you don't get what Steve sees in her. Especially when you're right there. 

Enough. This isn't about you or your stupid dumb heart. Just smile and go with it. 

The kitchen door swings open, a noise barely discernible above the hue, and the rattling wheels of a cart underline the steady drone. A lull washes over the crowd as they part. You move with the tide and face the sudden divide. 

A hush falls over the room as Steve pushes the cake across the floor. He stops before Peggy as she faces him, another feigned pout of surprise. He grins proudly at her as you stare curiously at the top of the cake. 

"Oh, pink?" She comments on the fondant bow as her eyes flick over to you. She quickly corrects herself an admires the double tiered dessert, "Steve, it's so pretty." 

You know she hates the colour. You recall the one time you wore a pink bow in your hair and she made a similar comment. Cute, she remarked in her roundabout way in her oh so sophisticated accent. 

You manufacture a smile and step closer as Steve beckons to the guest. Tension stills the air, almost paralyzing the crowd. You squint at the heart shaped box perched atop the bow. 

"Is this for me?" Peggy asks if it's not obvious. 

Steve nods, his cheeks tinting pink, as you notice how he wipes his palms on his pants. Peggy delicately takes the box from the pedestal of fondant and your ribs ache from the pounding of your heart. You curl your fingers until your nails dig into your skin as you watch him kneel beside her. 

She doesn't notice as she opens the box on its hinges. Her lips part and she stares at the contents. She looks over at Steve to find him on his knee and she claps her hand over her mouth. Her eyes gleam as she whimpers his name through her fingers. 

The scene hazes behind your tears as you stare wide eyed. Your ears ring as Steve's voice is dulled by your shock. 

"Margaret Elizabeth Carter," Steve's timbre warble just a bit, "will you make me the happiest man on earth?" 

You don't wait for her answer. You already know it. It's the very same you give in every outlandish dream you've ever had of your happy ending. You spin and storm through the crowd, blind with horror and self-pity. 

Surprise! Your whole world is crashing into pieces. 

[darlingdreadwrites]

Omfg omfg omfg omfg ggogggiffuuk. That toby x final girl reader was too good I feel like I'm floating....could you do a Jeff x final girl reader?

i hope you enjoy this! sorry if it’s too much of a long read…

pairing: Jeff the Killer x Final Girl F!Reader

part: 1, 2, 3

summary: you had anticipated a nice road trip with your boyfriend and some friends. when you're forced to stay at a motel for the night, you wished you had stayed home.

contains: Jeff the Killer getting a little crushy wushy on you (sorry i couldn't help it LOL), good ol' slasher shenanigans, Jeff unknowingly getting revenge for you

warnings: violence, gore, NSFW (ESPECIALLY UNDER THE RED DIVIDER), masturbation, insinuation of SA (nothing explicit, but can be read that way), a knife, character deaths, horror/slasher cliches

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

a.n: y'all i did not expect the attention i would get from the toby fics. I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU SO MUCH!! i know most of you followed for toby, but i got a request for jeff, so here you go!

This road trip was supposed to be fun. Your boyfriend—Tony—had promised you that. He promised that you’d have a great time. He promised that he would give you all his undivided attention. He promised he’d reign in his creepy friend’s weird comments. He’d promised he wouldn’t let his anger get to him.

“Jesus, old man. Just start the pumps back—“

But said old man interrupts him. They’d been going at this for a good few minutes now. “I cannot do that. You will have to come tomorrow. There’s a nice, luxury motel my buddy runs just up the road.”

“Listen,” Tony lets out a deep breath to try and control himself before he jumps over the counter to strangle the poor man. “We’re only trying to get out of this town, man. It is just one car.”

“If I start the oil back up, I’dun have to start it up for ev’rybody,” the man shakes his head, and I know he’s itching to keep up with the Southern Hospitality act.

You start to space out, having gotten used to Tony’s temper. You just wanted to sleep, no matter where. You spin on your heel and start walking down the candy aisle. There's a buzzing sound above you and you look up to see a flickering light. You swear you can make out the black dots of bugs that are being burnt to a crisp by the blinding lights. 

You almost scream as someone jumps next to you – seemingly out of nowhere – before you realize that it’s just your friend Stephanie. “Whachu want, girl?”

“Steph—“ You whisper-yell, and the girl only giggles. You shove her lightly and turn your attention back on the rows of different sugary confections. She looks up to see Tony still arguing with the gas station attendant. 

 “How long is he gonna keep doing that?” She asks you. You shrug in response. After a few silent moments, she walks around you. “Gonna calm him down.” 

“Mhm,” you hum and pick up a bag that is interesting to you. You squeeze it for no other reason than to hear the familiar crinkle of the plastic. From the corner of your eye, you can make out a figure walking over to you. You bristle already as Don’s cologne already starts to make your eyes sting. 

“You gonna get that?” He asks you and you want to immediately punch the cocky grin off his face. 

“No, just looking,” you answer simply. You place the candy bag back in its spot and cross your arms. 

“You’re already so hostile,” he chuckles, poking your side. You take a step to the side, putting more space between you. “Dude, come on. I’m just playing.” 

Don was never “just playing.” You almost learned that the hard way. 

“I think we're almost leaving,” mumbling, you turn to leave. He scoffs and stays in his spot as you walk toward Tony. Stephanie plays idly with her hair — not helping to calm Tony in the slightest. 

You were about to respond when a man nearly slams you to the ground. You catch yourself on your boyfriend’s back, who only noticed the interaction when you bumped into him. 

 “Watch it, asshole—” he shouts. 

You snap your head in the direction of the door, but the man was already gone. The bell hanging from the door almost flew off — you only caught a glimpse of white.

“You know what? Fine.” Tony glares at the worker. “Let’s just go to this shitty-ass motel and sleep with bed bugs, guys. Thanks for nothing, motherfucker.”

Stephanie and Don snicker, and your face burns from embarrassment.

“Luxury motel” my ass, you thought. This place was the dingiest shit hole you’d ever seen. It was a classic two-story nightmare that you would see in a horror movie. There was only one other car but yours, and you could see the grime on the walls from the car. The rust that clung to the metal railings on the upper level streaked down like old bloodstains. Half of the lights on the neon sign that perched from the roof were dead — making it read as “Mo.” But there was nothing your group could do tonight. There was only enough gas to drive back to the gas station tomorrow.

After securing the rooms — and Tony weirdly insisting that you and him have a room upstairs while your friends were downstairs — you all decided to head to the pool. That was the most normal your group had ever been in a while. You played around with them as they splashed water on each other, and Tony even got a little clingy. You missed that feeling of his body enveloping yours in his warmth – and not just for sex.

“I am so tired,” Stephanie exclaims as she climbs out of the pool. You follow behind her and grab your towel. Stephanie pauses and turns to look at you. “Hey, have you guys seen my key?”

“Didn’t you bring it?” You tilt your head to the side, wrapping your towel around you.

“I thought I did. Where the fuck—did one of you guys take it?” She looks over your shoulder to look at the two men. They only shook their heads. “Ugh. Guess I have to talk to that weirdo at the front desk. What was this name again? Miles? Mickey?”

“Micheal,” you correct her, suppressing a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” she giggled. “Micheal Myers.”

As you walk back upstairs to your room, you can’t help but walk a little closer to Tony. You felt shiver spreading like ice under your skin. An invisible force made you feel heavier, as if someone’s eyes were pressing into your back. The prickling sensation of the hairs on your body raising caused you to turn your head to look behind your shoulder.

“Scared?” The sound of your boyfriend’s voice causes you to look straight ahead. Both of you had stopped just in front of the stairs – you hadn’t realized.

“This place is so creepy,” is all you say.

The motel room was just as shitty as the outside, but at least it was warm. The lights were all a disgusting yellow color against the fake wood paneling. There was a small TV sitting on an aged drawer, a desk with a table, and a singular bed that you could already smell the dust from. You remind yourself to urge Tony not to use the thick blanket when you sleep.

You had just received a text from Stephanie saying she was going to sleep when Tony stepped out of the bathroom. You sent a quick message back to your friend before putting the phone down on the bed. You smiled up at Tony as he walked over to your side. He cupped your chin – sending a wave of heat through your whole body – before he lets it fall back to his side.

“I’m going to Don’s room downstairs,” he informs you and your face falls.

“Why?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

“He brought his PS4,” he says it like it’s obvious.

Of course.

“’Kay, well,” you swallow your disappointment. “Take the key. I’m not waking up to let you back in.”

“My own girl would let me sleep outside?” He looks at you with a lopsided grin, tilting his head. You can’t help but smile back. He hadn’t called you that in a while.

“I could. Now go.”

“Bye, baby,” he chuckles and turns to leave.

Your eyes stay trained on the back of his head until it’s blocked by the closing of a door. You bite at the inside of your cheek. You close your eyes, reinviting the tiredness you had felt earlier. Lifting the blanket, you slide down beneath it, settling into a lying position. An odd, old smell wafts from the sheets, but the warmth provides a comfort that you need.

You’re woken up from your slumber by the sound of a blaring car alarm. The walls do nothing to muffle the sound of the piercing, repetitive wail. Surely any member of your group could do it, and you wouldn’t need to get up. After another minute, you toss the blankets off you and swing your legs over the edge of the mattress. Sliding your shoes on, you stand up.

The keys jingle as you pick them up and stomp over to the door. You stick half of your body out of the door and point at the keys in the general direction of the car. That didn’t work. You groan and walk outside to get closer to the railing – the door closes behind you. Oh shit. But it was too late when you turned around. Pressing down on the right key fob, the car finally shuts up. You try the door anyway. No luck. The only one with the room key is Tony.

You walk down the stairs of the motel. In the distance, you could see Don still at the pool. Funny, you thought. Wasn’t he supposed to be playing with Tony? Maybe he got bored of watching your boyfriend. Walking over to Don’s room, a noise captures your attention. It’s not talking, more like moaning and giggling – from Stephanie’s room. You realized that you could see a crack of light coming from the door – it hadn’t been fully closed. You snicker, thinking of how you’d tease her for being desperate enough to get with Don.

Wait, but… you just saw Don. Still at the pool. And there had been no sign of Tony.

Slowly, and with an anxious flutter in your chest, you step in front of the door. The door stays miraculously silent as you gently push it open. You swear that your heart stops beating. There, on Stephanie’s bed, the pair are writhing against each other. Tony mouths at the side of her throat, while your friend’s arms are snaking under his shirt. You slammed the door as your heart threatens to jump out of your throat. You walk away, dazed – ignoring the loud sounds that emit from the closed room.

The air in the room was heavy with the scent of copper and the drone of the motel lights above. Jeff is leaning over the bodies of Stephanie and Tony, his blade dripping red as he finishes the final carving of a grotesque grin on Tony’s face. He’s precise with his movements – like an artist putting the final strokes to their masterpiece. Jeff had to reposition the bitch back on top of the girl he was swapping spit with. God, he could still see the look of horror on their faces. Her skin was pale and dull, with a similar smile etched onto her features.

He straightens up and takes a step back, assessing his work, and his head tilted. He’d really outdone himself this time, he thought. Jeff smirks, reveling in his sick joke. He lazily wipes his blade on Tony’s sleeve – not that it made a difference. These two were coated in blood he had fun playing with.

The shrill scream slices through his moment of silence – it had come from outside. He freezes before his head snaps toward the door. Who was that? His pulse accelerates, not from fear, but from curiosity. He walks to the door, another wide grin on his face. He cracks it open enough to peek his head through, the sound drowned out by the lingering echoes of the scream.

Jeff can see you on the second floor, standing frozen in place and trembling. His eyes travel down to the crumpled body on the floor – it was the other guy. Don, or whatever. His body lays in an unnatural position, and he can see the man’s lifeless face. His jaw was out of place, jutting out like an extreme underbite. Jeff would’ve cackled if he wasn’t meant to be quiet. That’s what’s so boring about targeting a group of people. He had to be quiet until everyone was dead. Which they all were, eventually.

But, then, his eyes flicker to you again. You weren’t crying like he thought you would be. You were just… there – you didn’t even look down to make sure your buddy was okay. Just one peek was enough for you – got you hollering like a pig – but you weren’t crying or running for the cops. He leans out further as you mechanically walk over to the stairs. The split second of fear he had seen on your face was all but gone. Your shock had made you numb, and you would just walk around it like it was nothing. Like your friend’s mangled body was just a bug.

“Oh, you’re fucked up,” Jeff whispered, a smirk on his face.

That excited him. He would be the one to get you crying in terror soon.

Nothing seemed real anymore. You were sure this was some kind of nightmare. That’s why you didn’t care. You just walked over to the ice machine – ignoring Don’s body on the floor – and grabbed a handful of ice. You don’t waste another second and shove as many ice cubes in your mouth as you could. Some had slipped out and crackled against the concrete floor. The pieces that skittered away had flown at your feet. But you didn’t feel it. You didn’t feel anything.

As you crunch on the ice, you slide some of the remaining pieces over your skin. The stinging cold that you would usually feel was replaced by a slight buzzing under your skin. You’re not sure whether you’re glad you can’t feel anything or not. You just wanted to sleep now.

Oh, right. The room key.

Letting the remaining ice cubes fall to the floor, you spun to head in the direction of the lobby. You didn’t want to deal with seeing your boyfriend’s tongue in your best friend’s mouth. You decided that you’d deal with them tomorrow. You didn’t care anymore. And they didn’t care either, it seemed. That’s why they didn’t come out running after you, right? They didn’t care enough to even pretend like they felt guilty. Tony wasn’t groveling at your feet, and Stephanie wasn’t crying her eyes out – begging you to still be her best friend. They had to know it was you that came into the room and slammed the door.

The lights overhead were a dull, sterile white compared to the yellow of the rooms – but it still smelled like piss. You could hear some sports game being played on a tiny, clunky box TV. But there was no sign of the owner. You turned your head from side to side but saw no sign of the fat old man. When you look back at the front desk, you notice the small rack of candy. Fuck it, you shrug as you reached a hand out and grab one. The numb buzz was starting to die down, but there was still no sense of real fear. Just the same tiredness you felt all day.

Guess you’d have to speed up the reunion early, huh?

The door to the room was slightly ajar once again. You had closed it, you remembered that. Maybe they had gone looking for you. Or at least when you had screamed. You nudged the door open with your foot.

Dropping the bag of candy on the floor, you felt bile rising in your throat. Your heart stopped for what seemed like the third time tonight. You honestly wished it would stop forever.

The putrid stench of the blood – let alone the sight of it – attacks your senses and made your head spin. The bodies were positioned as if they were frozen in a perverse display of intimacy. Tony’s face was right up on Stephanie’s, her cheek was being pulled on by Tony’s teeth to make it look like he was eating her face. Your stomach churned and eyes brimmed with hot tears. Doubling over, you retched onto the already stained carpet in the room.

You staggered backward, your legs threatening to give out as they shook. But you managed to take quicks steps back in the direction of the lobby. Your blood seemed to rush to your head, and you could’ve mistaken the pumping for the sound of drums. You wanted to scream and cry and throw up all at once. You wanted out.

Rounding the corner, the motel owner stepped out of a nearby room just a few feet in front of you. You could see the sweat on his shirt as he fiddled with the key ring – he was locking a door. He raised a hand to wipe some sweat from his brow, oblivious to your approach.

Your heart pounded as you stopped dead in your tracks. His actions were so mundane compared to the horror you had just witnessed. It made your stomach do flips. This was just another night for him. Another night of fixing the rooms and watching football on his TV.

“Sir-sir,” you tried to speak, but it came out in a shaky rasp.

Micheal turned to you, his brows raising in surprise. You had startled him. He gave you a once-over before smiling. “Is there anything I can do for you, miss?”

“They’re…” Your lips trembled as you tried to get the words to come out of your mouth instead of puke. You knew you were inaudible, but you didn’t have the strength to speak properly. “They’re… all… They’re dead.”

“I’m sorry, hon,” he leaned forward and squinted. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch—”

The man’s eyes widened and a wet, gargle emitted from his mouth as it hung open. Blood poured from the side of his neck, and a hand shot out to grab his shoulder and stabilize him. There was a squelching sound as the knife was dragged just above the owner’s shoulder. He crumples forward, sending a shower of blood your way, and some of it fills your mouth before you close it tight. Your eyes follow the sight of the keys that land with a soft jingle at your feet.

You stare at the man responsible for only a second. His scarred, unnaturally pale face is framed by jet-black hair that falls wildly across his face. It casts shadows onto his skin, especially his sunken-in, hollow eyes. They’re wide as they stare at you – cold and vacant. His most defining and spine-chilling feature is the wide, carved out smile on his face. It looked like it had scabbed over months ago, but it was still glaringly present. If this man was human, he didn’t look it.

But you act faster than you or he anticipated. You dive for the keys, picking them off the ground, when, suddenly, you feel a hand grab your wrist. He pulls you back up, bringing you closer to his body.

Just when you thought it was all over, you realize that the man is just staring at you. You feel his warm breath hit your face, and you can’t tear your eyes away from him. You’re confused, and it seems that so is he. Using this to your advantage, you smash the ring of keys into the side of his head.

As he howls out in pain, you break free and take a few steps back. You turn and bolt in the direction of a beat-up truck – the only other vehicle in the parking lot. Your hands shook and you clutched at the keys held tightly in your palm. It felt like you could suffocate with the heavy, tense air that surrounded you.

You cursed under your breath as you tried – and failed – to fit the key into the car door. The sound of the jingling only heightened your sense of panic. The key finally slipped into the lock, and you let out a quiet whimper. You yanked the car open, not daring to turn around.

Jeff simply watched you with a wide grin on his face. He was amused by your desperation – elated by the thrill of hunting you down. When the car clicked open, something in him clicked. His smile faltered as the realization that you were almost getting away hit him hard. With quick movements, he sprinted toward you and rounded the car to the driver’s seat.

You practically flew into the driver’s seat and slammed the door just as Jeff’s knife made contact with the window. The loud, grating sound of metal meeting glass caused you to scream. But you continued your attempt to get away. You jam the keys into the ignition, ignoring the hand slamming into the window.

“You bitch,” he snarled, banging on the glass. “I’m gonna gut you like a pig when I get my fucking hands on you!”

The tires of the car screech as you threw it into gear, jerking it backwards. Jeff continued to try and slice through the window, the sharp blade leaving a jagged mark. He took a step back to avoid his foot getting run over by one of the tires. He watches as you manically speed out of the parking lot, his figure getting smaller in the rearview mirror.

Your breath was coming out in short bursts, and your heart pounded wildly. As you drive off, you get one final look at him. He just stands in the parking lot, his own chest rising and falling rapidly. He doesn’t chase your stolen car, but you can tell that his mind is thinking of how he can enact his revenge. For now, he’s proud that you’ve gotten away just this time.

Two Weeks Later

Jeff couldn’t stop thinking about you. He very rarely lets people get away on his sprees. Not that he was going to let you live, don’t be fucking stupid. He knew how to find you and what he’d do. The man was just biding his time. He wanted the time to be right. He wanted to make it special for you.

The thing was, that second guy – the one that was crushed on the floor – that wasn’t Jeff’s kill. And, as far as he knew, it wasn’t poor old Micheal’s either. You did that. Something had made you snap. And Jeff knew that feeling all too well. Just what had that useless motherfucker done to you? Must’ve been bad enough to cause a sweet little thing like you to break.

He… sympathized with you. In a very stupid way that he hated. But he also loved the blank look in your eyes as your brain numbed you to the act you acted on. That made him want you, oh, so badly.

He could make as many excuses as he wanted, but he wanted you. His mind replayed the whole thing like a movie. He thought about you while he trained, while he maimed, while he slept. And especially while pumping his hand along his cock. He’d stare up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open as low moans dragged out from his throat. He thought of the way your face twisted in fear, the blood that spattered on you, and oh that felt just right. That’s why he needed to see you again. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you.

He hoped you were prepared.

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

Double Babysitter - Hozier x fem! reader

Summary: You and Andrew end up with the tough task of babysitting your friend's child together.

Word Count: 6,325

Author’s Note: hi hi hi!!!! this is my first real fanfic, i’ve written little things here or there but this is the only full fic i’ve written. shoutout to the wonderful @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading this, im so grateful for u! this is based on the Bluey episode Double Babysitter, it's not required watching but if you want to watch it to understand the fic better you can. i hope you enjoy!!!

ALSO: I do not know Hozier in real life, nor do i claim to. This is a fictionalized (ish) version of him. All other characters featured are fictional. Now, enjoy!

fic under the cut <3

Andrew was always vaguely aware of the fact that he was getting older. He had spotted the occasional gray patch in his stubble, noticed a faint wrinkle somewhere on his face. He even felt his back ache every now and again, but he had always brushed it off.

It wasn't until he had been asked by an old friend from college to babysit his daughter that he can say he actually felt old.

Of course, he wasn't complaining. He had met the young girl only a few times, but to say she held a special place in his heart would be an understatement. He had just finished up the last leg of his tour, so he had all the time in the world back at home. And he did owe Liam and Quinn, her parents, a favor. They deserved to have a night out just the two of them; watching their daughter was the least he could do.

He took this responsibility very seriously. He was even on time, arriving at 6pm on the dot, as instructed (given, it was only because he told himself he had to be there at 5:30).

He walked up to their doorstep, gave their door a few light knocks, and stepped back. It took a moment, but he could hear his friend’s voice call for Quinn through the door before watching it unlock. Liam opened the door with a puzzled expression that had Andrew wondering if he somehow showed up on the wrong day.

“Andrew, you're here… on time? Are you feeling okay?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” He replied sarcastically, accompanied by an eye roll. They greeted each other, Liam widened the door, and Andrew stepped inside.

“Honey, the babysitter’s here!” Liam shouted up the staircase. Quinn quickly emerged with open arms and gave Andrew a quick squeeze once she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Andrew! It's great to see you. How long has it been?” She asked.

“About… six months, I’d say. The week before I left for the States.”

“That's much too long. We need to actually go out sometime soon.”

They spent a few minutes standing around and catching up, swapping stories about their jobs (including a concert story or two). It gave Andrew a moment to appreciate these smaller, mundane moments that seemed to slowly be becoming a rarity. He was mid-sentence when he was caught off guard by the pitter-patter of small footsteps rushing towards him.

“Uncle Andy!” He glanced down, finding a little girl already latched on to his leg; Katie, the reason he’d been asked to babysit. He reached down to pat her head, ruffling the little one’s hair.

“Hey there, lass! How are you?”

A muffled noise that sounded something like ‘I’m good’ came from the girl as she buried her face in his leg.

His sentence was cut off at the sound of another knock at the door.

“That's odd. I don't think I’m expecting anyone-” Quinn started, interrupted by Liam opening the door to find you standing on their front step. You didn’t even notice the surprised looks on everyone’s faces as you entered, blindsided by your excitement.

“Hey,” you said, giving Liam a side hug before moving on to Quinn and doing the same. Katie let go of Andrew’s leg and rushed over to you, joyfully screaming your name. A wide grin grew on your face at the sight of her, and Andrew couldn’t help but notice how beautiful your smile was. He immediately snapped himself out of it once he realized he had no idea who you were, let alone what you were even doing here.

“Hi, Katie Cat!” you exclaimed. He watched as you pulled her into an embrace, not noticing his presence until you pulled away. You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his, smile fading in awe.

“Y/N, this is my Uncle Andy,” Katie explained as she held on to your hand, quickly dragging you towards him until there was maybe a foot between you two before pointing upwards. A thought flashed across Andrew’s mind: Is this five-year-old playing matchmaker?

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Have you met my friend Andrew before?” Liam asked.

“You do seem familiar. Didn’t you get drunk and sing Take Me To Church at the wedding?”

“Probably.”

“Oh my god, Y/N, I am so sorry. I think I double-booked myself and accidentally asked both of you to watch Katie,” Quinn admitted. “Again, so sorry. My head’s been all over the place today.”

“It’s alright. He got here first. I’ll just go, then. Leave you to it,” you decided, admittedly a little disappointed but understanding the whole scenario. You took a step back, turning to go before a small hand grabbed yours, stopping you in your tracks.

“Don't go! You can both stay.” Katie begged, puppy dog eyes in full effect. It's like she knew exactly how to tug on your heartstrings, because after that you were willing to stay for as long as she wanted. But you still needed permission.

“I mean, as long as it's okay with… Uncle Andy.”

Andrew gave you a nod, perhaps a bit too quickly. He couldn't tell if it was because he already knew he was going to need help with this, or because he simply wanted to be in your company. Either way, both were true.

“Two babysitters it is.” He conceded.

“Hooray!” She yelled, latching herself onto your leg as she had done to Andrew's just moments before. You looked down at her, a warm smile returning to your face, before looking back up at him. All three of you could tell this was going to be… an interesting night, to say the least.

Before they left, Liam and Quinn had given you two very lenient instructions. All you had to do was put Katie to bed by 8:30 and watch the house until they got home around 10. Everything else was fair game. Easy enough of a job for two grown adults. However, the way that your night started at their kitchen table made you wonder if perhaps their rules were too permissive.

You were sat across from each other, you and Andrew on the same side, Katie on the other. It oddly felt like you were being interrogated by this small child. Which, after offering a game of 20 questions so you could get to know each other better, wasn't exactly far off from reality.

“Why do I feel like she's going to ask me why I was at the scene of the crime?” he asked you in a whisper, leaning towards you. Andrew swore he could feel his heart skip a beat as you chuckled at his remark, and he was relieved as you revealed you felt the same.

“The real question is, is she Good Cop or Bad Cop?” You replied in the same hushed tone.

“Oh, bad cop. I’ve done this with her before, and when she wants to know something she’ll badger you until she gets an answer.”

“Perfect. She can be my lawyer in about twenty years.”

That elicited a laugh out of Andrew, a small chuckle that caught Katie’s attention.

“What's funny?” She asked, genuinely feeling like she missed out on your conversation.

“It's nothing.” You changed the subject to convince her it was inconsequential. “Why don't we get started? Ask us anything,” you instructed, regretting the words as soon as they left your mouth, mostly because of the next words that came out of Katie’s.

“Why don't you have a wife?” She turned to Andrew, whose mouth was now agape. Your own eyes had widened, shocked by the boldness of her first question before remembering she is a little girl that hadn't yet developed a filter.

“You haven't seen me in a while. How do you know I don't?” He retorted, a lazy attempt at deflecting the question.

“Do you have a wife?”

“Well, no…”

“Then why don't you have a wife?”

“Ehm… I think it's her turn.” He tilted his head in your direction. Katie agreed with a nod and thought for a beat. Once she formulated her question, her attention turned to you.

"How many friends do you have?”

“God, I don't know… four? Five?”

“That's not a lot. Why do you only have five friends?”

“Good question… back to him!”

Katie turned.

“How come I don’t see you often?”

“Because usually I’m on tour.”

“Is that why you don’t have a wife?”

“Huh. Maybe.”

“Do you want to get married?”

“Yes,” you both said. You exchanged a glance, surprised you both had the same answer. The girl across the table was oblivious to this small moment you shared, and immediately went back to her questioning.

“Will Tommy be the husband?” Katie leaned across the table, an excited gleam in her eye.

Tommy. Your ex. Last time Katie had seen you, you two were in love, almost madly. However, a lot can happen in four months, and you found yourself having to explain a breakup (a particularly messy one, at that) to this naive girl. You let out a sigh.

“No. Me and Thomas… we aren't really friends anymore”

“But you said he was your true love.”

“Not anymore! Next question. Please.”

“True love is forever. Is true love not forever?”

“It is! It is.”

“Then how come you and Tommy aren't friends?”

“Well, Tommy — Thomas,” you corrected yourself before continuing, your words stunted, “and I weren't as good together as we thought. It took longer than it should've to realize, but we couldn't work. Kind of like when you’re doing a puzzle, and it looks like two pieces fit, but when you try to put them together, they don't.”

It was like you could watch the gears turn in Katie’s little head; she was trying as hard as she could to imagine your comparison. Meanwhile, Andrew was watching you as you thought, mentally praising you for not only putting into words something obviously painful for you, but explaining in terms a kid could understand. Despite the supposed ‘way with words’ he had, he knew it would take him several tries and multiple rough drafts to do the same. He let you continue, his eyes never leaving your face.

“It’s just sometimes, you think someone is your true love, when actually they’re not. Sometimes some things aren't meant to be. And that’s okay. No matter how sad it makes the both of you afterwards, or how upset you get…”

Your sentence trailed off, your throat closing up with that all-too-familiar feeling you recognized immediately. All of this had happened months ago; the breakup between you and Thomas had devastated you of course, but you had recovered. But having to explain the complicated events between you two in such a straightforward way, to put all the emotions you felt into simple terms, made it all seem real. And it only made those feelings resurface.

Andrew could tell something was off. He, of course, had no idea about this past relationship, and frankly, it was none of his business. What was his business, however, was how you looked like you were about to cry, how he could see the tears in your eyes welling up. He wasn't about to let you shed a tear over this. So, he attempted a diversion.

“Alright, I think we're done playing 20 questions. How about a movie?” He stood up, a feigned smile on his face. Your eyes lit up at his suggestion and you stood up after him, following suit.

“You know what? Good idea. Katie, why don’t you go find something to watch with Andrew and I’ll make popcorn, get some snacks ready?”

For a moment you worried she wouldn’t comply and more innocently personal questions would be coming your way. However, Katie didn't seem to mind this interjection, immediately agreeing and hurrying over to the living room to find the TV remote.

You both watched as she scurried away before looking back at each other eyes meeting for the first time that night. A few seconds were spent just staring into his eyes, noticing how very green they were. This captivation distracted you from the awkward silence that filled the air between you. You broke eye contact first, stepping around your chair and pushing it in. You walked into the kitchen, the footsteps you heard behind you letting you know he followed you. You didn't speak until you knew Katie would be out of earshot.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely.

“No problem. I completely get it.”

“Jesus, my first babysitting gig and I almost cried. At this rate, I’ll have to go back to selling lemonade to make ends meet.”

He let out a laugh, and the sight of it made a smile tug at the corner of your lips, though you couldn't shake the feeling you looked a bit… pathetic.

“ You probably think I’m a loser, huh?”

“No! No, absolutely not. Love, breakups, endings … dealing with that stuff isn't easy. If I thought it was, I wouldn't write songs on the matter for a living. Having to explain it to a kid without crushing her dreams is even harder. If anything, I commend you for it.”

For a reason you couldn't immediately explain, his praise actually managed lighten your mood, to the point where you had to suppress the urge to grin from ear to ear.

“What is it?” Andrew asked, as if to tell you your smile hadn't gone unnoticed.

“That was… just really nice of you to say.”

“I mean, it's true.”

The room filled with silence for a moment before you broke it.

“Do you think we could just forget that the whole thing ever happened and get on with the night?”

“Absolutely. It's forgotten,” he agreed, borderline erasing it from his memory as soon as you asked. His attention shifted as he yelled into the other room.

“Katie, have you ever seen The Princess Bride?”

Andrew went off into the living room, following Katie, and a smile grew on your face as you looked through the pantry for microwave popcorn.

It took a solid ten minutes of searching due to the plethora of streaming services Liam and Quinn had, but you finally found The Princess Bride. Katie brought down some blankets from her room in the meantime. Given, because they came from a six-year-old’s bedroom, they were patterned with Disney characters and unicorns, but they were comfortable all the same. You sat on opposite sides of the couch, a bowl of popcorn equidistant between the both of you, and for a reason only her little brain could rationalize, Katie was sitting on the floor.

You looked at the screen in awe like it was your first time watching, when in actuality you’d seen the movie more times than you could count. You mouthed the words of the most famous lines, almost subconsciously, as to not disturb the little one’s first viewing experience. Of course, you also snuck a few glances at Andrew when the screen held less of your attention. Okay, maybe more than a few glances. It was the first time that night you both could actually relax, and you took the moment to size him up. His hair, which was up in a man-bun at the beginning of the night, had since been let down, brown curls now loosely framing his face. He wore a white sweatshirt and black jeans. On his feet were white Converse that were clearly well-loved, to say the least. Despite how casual it all was, he really pulled it off. It almost made you wish you could raid his closet, see what other unexpectedly stylish clothes he had in his possession, maybe steal a sweater on the way out.

Oddly enough, it felt natural, being this comfortable on opposite sides of the couch with a man that might as well be a stranger. It’s almost like you wouldn’t mind if this was your house, your television, your kid-

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the clapping you heard from Katie’s spot on the floor as the credits rolled.

“So what did you think?” Andrew asked. Katie’s gaze broke from the screen to look at him.

“I wanna watch it again!”

“You can watch it again another time with mum and dad.”

“I want to watch it now!”

“Katie, the movie’s over, and it's 8 at night. Get upstairs, put on your pajamas, and brush your teeth.” He scolded as he got up from his spot on the couch. He bent down, resting his hands on his knees.

“I said I wanna watch it again!”

“It's getting late, you have to get ready for-”

“Again! Again! Again!” She stomped. You knew she was bound to have a tantrum any second now. Something that, judging by the concerned on his face, Andrew had no idea how to handle. It seemed like it was your turn to come to the rescue.

You got up from your seat, walking over to Andrew to stand by his side (figuratively and literally).

“Could you help me out here?” He asked, his frustration with her slowly growing.

“Watch and learn.”

You turned to Katie and crouched down to be on her level.

“Do you want to play a game?”

She didn't give a verbal answer, but based on her frown immediately disappearing and her head nodding so rapidly you thought it might fall off, you could assume what she would say. You thought for a moment before continuing.

“All you have to do to play is go upstairs and do everything you would usually do right before you go to bed. I’m going to set a timer, and if you’ve done everything and you're in bed before the timer, you win. Got the rules?”

“Yep!” She squeaked, her excitement evident.

“Alright. Ready… set… go!”

She quickly ran out of the living room and up the stairs, leaving the two of you left stunned for a moment. You both got up from your crouching, and you craned your neck upward to be met with, to your surprise, a look of amazement from Andrew.

“I swear, you must be magic.”

You deflected his praise almost immediately.

“Please, I’m not even close to being magic. I just know that kids will do anything if you turn it into a game.”

“Which is a level of sorcery that I can only wish to achieve!”

“If we end up babysitting again, you can always become my apprentice.”

“Offering a second date already?”

You knew he was teasing, but the romantic suggestion was enough to make your heart pound in your chest. You responded the only way you knew how.

“Shut up…”

You bantered and talked, taking advantage of the very little time you had to try and get to know each other (past the deep secrets you already knew from Katie’s questions). Your conversation immediately felt as if you knew each other for years, not hours. There was almost a click to it; the back and forth between the two of you happened easily, naturally. But, like all things, it couldn't last forever. After about ten minutes, a small voice yelled from up the stairs:

“I’m done!”

“We’ve been summoned.” Andrew stated.

He started walking towards the staircase, and nodded his head to tell you to come along. You caught up to him with no hesitation.

Andrew opened the door to Katie’s room and took a look around. It was as messy as one expects a five-year-old’s bedroom to be. Toys, anything from fake jewelry to Barbies, were scattered across the floor. Her drawings, mostly scribbles of rainbows and cartoons and her family, hung on her wall. Stuffed animals and fuzzy blankets were contained in a chest in the foot of her bed. After a moment, he held the door wider, giving you room to walk inside. You thanked him and walked over to the side of Katies bed. A bit unsure of what to do, Andrew stood behind you as you talked to Katie.

It was as messy as one expects a five-year-old’s bedroom to be. Toys, anything from fake jewelry

“Hey, you tricked me!”

“Yeah, I did. But now that you're all ready for bed and tucked in, aren't you tired?”

“I guess,” she started, a yawn interrupting her thought, “I am.”

“Then it's time for you to go to bed. Good night Katie Cat.”

You leaned in to place a kiss on her forehead before Katie let out a yelp.

“Wait! I can’t go to bed yet. I need a story.” She whined. “Mum and dad tell me a story every night before bed. I can't sleep without it.”

“What do you want it to be about?”

“Can it be about a princess? Like the movie?”

“Sure. Well, there was-”

“It needs to start with ‘once upon a time’.”

“Does it really have to?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then,” you conceded, knowing as much as you wanted to protest, she wouldn't let it go.“Once upon a time, there was a princess… that was trapped in a tower… guarded by a dragon.”

“Wow, that’s never been done before,” you heard him whisper behind you. You looked over your shoulder and shot him a small look of disapproval.

“Well, to her it's original. Just go with it,” you chided before continuing.

“As I was saying, there was a princess trapped in a tower. And there was a prince,” you turned behind you again, mouthing ‘that's you’ to the man behind you, “that was trying to rescue her.”

“Can I be the dragon?” Katie asked eagerly.

“Whatever you want, dear.” You replied, giving her approval. Katie let out a roar and, shockingly, Andrew got into character, already miming holding a sword and shield.

“Hello, Ms. Dragon. Listen, I have to slay you. I’m not happy about it either. It's the only way to save the princess.”

He gave you a quick glance, one you would've missed if you had blinked in the wrong moment. He returned his focus to ‘the dragon’.

“I usually am a pacifist, so I truly hate to do this, but I must…”

He faked a lunge towards her and began to tickle her, making both of them double over in laughter. You attempted to engrave the memory into your mind in fear that you would never experience a moment as heartwarming as this one again. He gave up after thirty seconds, standing up again.

“And just like that, the dragon was defeated!” You announced.

“Now the princess needs to marry the prince!” Katie yelled, almost commanded.

“What?” Andrew asked, more confused than opposed. Katie only gave him a disapproving look, which was enough to make him comply.

He knelt down on one knee and scoured the ground for something that had caught his eye before: a toy ring. He snatched it off her messy floor and held it towards you in an extended hand.

“Princess, I have rescued you from the dragon. Now, should you say yes, I would like to have you as my wife.”

This wasn't necessarily the most romantic moment of your life, but for some reason, it definitely made the list. A fact that was a bit pitiful, sure, but still very true. Which was exactly why you- technically, the princess- needed to take the story in an alternate direction. It was a personal way to protect your ego.

“And the princess said… no thanks.” Surely that would save your self-esteem from his imaginary judgment. To your surprise, it did the opposite. His brows furrowed in confusion, and his smile dropped.

“What? Why wouldn't the princess want to marry the prince?” He asked, trying to give you a look as if to tell you to just go with it. You, of course, got the message, but decided to lean more into your own narrative.

“She didn’t like the look of him.” Lie. But one that kept the girl entertained, her laughs growing louder.

“Why not?” Andrew couldn’t help but feel just a little offended, even though he knew everything you were saying was intended lightheartedly, the real purpose being to entertain the girl.

“Well, he was a bit lanky, for starts.”

“That’s not exactly something the prince can control. You have to cut him some slack there.”

“And his hair was better than hers! It was beautiful. All long and curly and fluffy. The princess simply wasn’t having it.”

“Wait, you think my hair is-.”

“And to top it all off, he was tall! Very tall. She’d have to go on her tiptoes just to kiss him, which, honestly Katie, gets very inconvenient.”

Andrew was about to counter, the words on the tip of his tongue, but stopped himself upon hearing the fits of giggles escaping Katie. He decided to let the moment be, taking in both your and Katie’s smiles from this new perspective.

You turned, your face showing your feigned contemplation. For a brief moment, you enjoyed the fact this might be the only time you'll be taller than him. A sigh escaped your lips and your eyes rolled, but you couldn't hide the smile on your face.

“I guess the princess could try and give the prince a chance.”

He looked back up at you, giving you a sheepish grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He took your hand and carefully placed the ring on your finger, as gentle as he would be if it was made of diamond and not plastic. His calloused fingers wrapped around your hand, undoubtedly hardened by all the guitar he’d played over the years. The feeling of his hands on yours, him looking up at you, the way his eyes were staring into yours with such admiration, it all almost felt like a real proposal. Not one that came after slaying a dragon, but after years of knowing and loving each other. One that came before celebratory kisses and preparing for a wedding. One that made your heart stir and your mind wander, only stopped when you heard him mutter something.

“You kinda have to finish the story.”

Right. The story. His words snapped you out of your deep thought, and you blinked a few times as you focused back on reality and not what you’d made up in your head about the man you'd only known for about two hours. The gorgeous, tall, kind, funny man you had only known for two hours. You cleared your throat.

“So, the princess finally said yes to him. And then they got married and they all lived happily ever after!”

You took a bow, as if you had just finished up a broadway worthy performance. Andrew, however, stayed in his spot on the floor still kneeling, something you only noticed when you looked up to smile at him to find empty space where you expected his head to be. You looked down at him and whispered.

“You can get up now, you know.”

“Oh. Right.”

He got up and did his own small bow before making an announcement.

“Alright, story’s over. Time to go to sleep.”

Though she had enjoyed it, by the end of your story (performance?) Katie's eyes were already drooping, so she had no more hostility towards going to bed. You walked over and stood on the left side of her bed, Andrew on the right.

“Goodnight, Katie-Cat. Sweet dreams.” You said softly before placing a small kiss on her forehead. He quickly did the same, placing a kiss on her forehead as well.

“Goodnight, Katie. Sleep well.”

He paused for a moment before adding on something you hadn't expected.

“I love you.”

As if your heart couldn't melt any more.

“Love you too, Uncle Andy.” She mumbled before making herself comfortable, snuggling up under her blanket; it was almost a signal for you to leave the room. You both obeyed, walking towards her door frame. You flipped the light switch, leaving the room in darkness, and closed her door behind you both.

You hated to admit it, but a smile grew on both of your faces.

Unsure of how to celebrate (a handshake was too formal, a high-five was too loud), after an awkward rotation of gestures, you settled on a fist bump.

Does fist-bumping a man ten minutes after calling his hair beautiful count as mixed signals?

“We did it!” You whisper-shouted after your small celebration. Andrew's tone mirrored yours as he spoke.

“Jesus, is this what being a parent feels like?”

“I hope not. No offense to you, but I’m miserable.”

“Oh no, the pounding headache’s got to you too?”

“That and the back pain from all the crouching over.”

“At times I could feel my hair turning gray.”

“What I’m hearing is that you could also go for a cup of tea right about now.”

“That's exactly correct. However, this isn't our house, which means it's not our place to make tea.”

“It can be if you give me two minutes.”

You shot Quinn a quick text to ask.

hey. is it alright if me and andrew make some tea? I know you said we could do whatever but i feel bad if you're not home.

It took a minute, but Quinn replied.

i trust you both so much i’d let you cook a three-course meal without me home. go ahead and brew your tea.

“Well, we’ve got Quinn’s approval.”

You showed him the text, and he let out a soft chuckle, nodding. You both headed down the stairs as quickly (and quietly) as possible.

You returned to the kitchen and began to look for teabags while Andrew looked for a kettle. You didn’t dare to make a mess, so you both just closed and opened drawers until you found exactly what you needed. He filled the kettle and placed it on the stove while you made the hard decision between chamomile and earl grey; you immediately made your decision when he made a comment about chamomile being his favorite.

You leaned on opposite sides of the counter, the stove between the two of you. After a minute you fell into a silence that was comfortable, but unwanted. It was the first time that night you had the freedom of being alone now that Katie was fast asleep, yet you had no idea what to do with yourselves. Biting at your lower lip, you thought of something to say.

“Hey, we did a pretty good job being her court jesters for the night.” You finally commented. Andrew nodded his head before jokingly correcting your statement.

“More accurately, we did a good job being her prince and princess.”

“Almost made me think I should’ve pursued a career in acting.”

“You have to give some credit to your co-star here, as well.”

“Oh, absolutely. Oscar-winning performance. I appreciate you incorporating props, as well.”

“One of the greatest improv moments of my career.”

“I had no idea I was in the presence of such a legend. ” You said barely, being able to hold back your laughter. Your conversation fell back into a now-familiar rhythm. The topics started anywhere from how you knew Quinn to how much you both loved Katie, but as you went on you diverted to your favorite movies snd Andrew’s interest in classical literature. The only interruption was the whistle of the kettle, which you had almost forgotten about. Andrew took it upon himself to prepare the tea, even after you insisted that you would take over. Instead, you actually took in the kitchen, finding something unexpected on the counter.

You were both surprised that Liam and Quinn actually owned a radio.

“Do you mind if I put on some music?” He asked.

“Not at all.” You stepped to the side, giving him permission to turn the radio on.

He twisted the knob of the radio, searching for a station for a moment before stopping. He landed on a station playing jazz, turning up the volume as he recognized the tune: A Kiss To Build A Dream On by Louis Armstrong. Instinctively, he tapped his foot to the beat.

You both stood in silence, one that almost drowned out the song playing. This silence was just strong enough for you to formulate an idea. You liked this song, you were bored, and most importantly, you wanted to be close to him. So you decided to take a risk. You extended a hand in his direction.

“Care for a dance?”

It took him a moment to process your question out of shock. After a few seconds, he stuttered out his answer, his gaze shifting to your hand.

“I- No, I couldn't. I have two left feet. I’d probably be… stepping on your toes the entire time.”

You shrugged.

“Who cares? It's just us, and I’m not gonna judge you.” You reassured him, motioning for him to join you.

Andrew was quickly learning he couldn't say no to you.

He gave in, taking one of your hands in his and placing the other one on your waist. At first, you awkwardly kept your distance between each other, like two teens during a slow song at their school dance. However, you got more into a rhythm as time went on, eventually getting comfortable enough with him to rest your head on his chest, as close as you could get to his shoulder with his height. Andrew was hoping you were more focused on dancing so you couldn’t feel his heart beat out of his chest. He kept his promise of stepping on your toes, mumbling a “Sorry!” every time he did so. He wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be. He even tried to spin you by the second chorus, almost crashing you into him, but helping you regain your balance. Laughter was your only response to any of this.

Much to the dismay of you both, the song ended, and you pulled away from each other. You missed his touch, your hand buzzing from the sudden change. Another song began to play from the radio: I’m In The Mood For Love by Julie London. Christ, it was like the universe was sending you a sign. Everything else throughout the night had all led up to this.

You could barely process what was happening when Andrew placed his lips on yours.

The kiss was small and chaste, cautious in case you didn't reciprocate. It was so sudden that you forgot to kiss him back, just absorbing the moment that you had slowly been longing for more and more throughout the night. When he pulled away, all he saw was the astonishment and shock on your face. He didn't notice how your gaze was fixated on his lips, and instead frantically began to apologize.

“Shit, I misread you, didn't I? I’m so sorry, I apologize. You have every reason to be upset with me.”

His suggestion made you laugh.

“Are you kidding me? That's all I've wanted all night.”

You saw something change in his demeanor, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“It's alright if I kiss you again, then?”

“Yes! Yes. Please do.”

As soon as you gave him permission, he placed his hands on the sides of your face and pulled you close to him.

Another thing about the universe is that not only does it send signs, it tends to have impeccable timing; just as Andrew leaned in to kiss you again, you heard the front door unlock. Quinn’s voice rang through the hallway.

“Hey, I don't know if you got my text, but there wasn't that much traffic so we got home… Oh. I see we're interrupting something."

You both let go of each other, a look of guilt like you’d been caught doing something illegal. Thankfully, Quinn was no cop.

“I’m not mad or anything. Just happy you waited until Katie was asleep to start swapping spit.”

You both thanked her, ignoring a passing comment she made about how she “always did think you’d be good for each other”. You said your goodbyes, hugging Liam and Quinn with smiles and faces that were still flushed from earlier. You waved them a final goodbye and walked out onto the patio together, Andrew holding the door for you again. You were alone together again.

“So, do you think we could pick up from where we left off before?” You asked a mischievous glint in your eye.

“I thought you'd never ask.”

He finally leaned down to kiss you again, holding your face gently. This time, you reciprocated, placing your hand on the nape of his neck to keep him as close as possible. It was slow, as if both of you decided to take your time; a gentle precursor for all the kisses to come in the future. Your hands made their way into his hair, his making their way to your waist. You stay like that for what could have been forever for all that you care, but's only a minute.You both pulled away to get some air, small pants escaping your mouths. Andrew looked down at you with wonder, a smile growing on his face.

“You really are magic.” He mumbled.

“Still not magic. Just… me.” You deflected again.

“Is there a difference?” He asked rhetorically. He let out a sigh before speaking again.

“ Y/N… God, I feel like a teenager saying this, but… would you want to go on a date sometime? A proper one, with no babysitting or playing pretend. Just me and you and staring at a painting or a sunset or each other's faces.” He rambled, taking a deep breath. “Whatever you want.”

Letting out a laugh, you replied.

“I would love to.”

You gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Good night, Andrew."

“Good night, Y/N.”

Andrew gave you one last peck on the lips before you, unfortunately, went your separate ways for the night. Walking back to your car, you also couldn’t help but feel like a teenager, but because he made you so… giddy, so willing to start something new with him. You could barely keep down the butterflies in your stomach. All of this caused by coincidence, a bit of fate, and a babysitting gig. Not how you thought the night was going to go, but perhaps the most pleasant surprise you’d ever had.

You got into your car, and tuned the radio to the same station as before. All the songs remind you of him.

You had the stupidest smile on your face the entire drive home.

[satorusugurugurl]

Hiii i just saw your accidentally hurting during yk what fic 😭😭 I was wondering if you’d maybe be up to writing a sequel? Like what happens after that?

NO PRESSURE OFCCC

you have great writing

Aftermath of JJK Men TQ Accidentally Hurting You During Smexy Time!

Part One

Character: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo

Warnings: Mentions of injuries? Suggestive, Gojo getting picked on, fluffy sweetness!!

Word count: 2,695

A/N: This was so much fun! It practically wrote itself! Thank you Nonnie!!

Gojo Satoru:

“My head hurts!” Gojo complained as he walked back into your room. He tossed you an ice pack before collapsing onto the bed with you. “Maybe we should have stopped what we were doing because I think I have a concussion.”

“You're such a big baby.” You giggled, still naked under the sheets. “It was just forehead bonk.”

“One that could have resulted in a concussion from your thick-ass skull.”

You tossed one of the pillows at him with a smirk. “You're the one at fault, Toru.” He just lay there, sighing dramatically.

“Right, I’m at fault all because I thrust into you.”

“There you go, the keyword ‘you’ all you.”

He stuck his tongue out at you before pulling you into his arms. “I would like to think it was a two-person incident.” You hummed nuzzling his neck.

“Besides, it's not like these things will draw any attention! In the morning, it'll be like this never happened.”

That was the farthest thing from the truth. The following day, both your goose eggs were still there on full display. You were okay with the fate you had been dealt. Satoru was fine, too, until he walked into the first-year's classroom.

“Mornin! I hope you three are ready for a fun-filled day of training!!” The three students glanced at each other before staring at Gojo. When none of them said anything, Satoru stole a glance at you. You had just stopped in to say good morning, and then you were off to the second-year's class.

You were flushed, hands covering your mouth as tears flooded your eyes. Why the hell were you laughing? Was there something on his face? Was his blindfold upside down? Your beautiful laughter was so contagious, spreading to his students. They were trying so hard to keep it together. While Megumi just silently judged his benefactor.

Not being in the loop had Satoru turning to everyone. “What? What's so funny?” The utter confusion in his voice finally had you losing the very little control you had.

“Oh My god!! Oh god!” You laughed out loud, sinking to the ground, tears flowing freely down your cheeks.

“What?!”

“What's with the lump under your blindfold?!” itadori cried out as Nobara slapped her desk repeatedly. “Some Charlie the Unicorn cosplay you're testing out?!”

“N-No, it's his third eye-opening!” Nobara added, causing you to wheeze.

“He already has Six-Eyes! That wasn't enough!!”

Megumi slowly pulled His phone out, snapping several pictures of the very confused Gojo. “Wait until the second year to see this.”

Having had enough, Gojo bolted for the bathroom, staring at his reflection. Without his blindfold on, the goose egg wasn't that noticeable. However, due to the tight fabric concealing his eyes, his goose egg was front and center in the middle of his forehead. He robbed at it, slowly smiling when he saw you step inside, face flushed. You were trying so hard not to laugh, but he could see the mischievous gleam In your eye.

He knew you oh so well. “Go on, say what you want to say.” He shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. “But Charlie the Unicorn and my third—no seventh eye-opening were golden.”

“I-Is that a goose egg under your blindfold, or are you just happy to see me?!” Laughter echoed off the walls.

Gojo just grinned his signature wide smile. He said nothing as he grabbed you by the collar of your uniform, dragging you back to the classroom. “That was weak! I expected better from my girlfriend.” You laughed even harder, making Gojo turn to smile down at you. He didn't think it was possible, but he fell even more in love with you at that moment.

Geto Suguru:

“Don’t ask Google Home, you freak!” Suguru just eyed you for a long moment. “Sugu—I’m serious!”

“Hey Google!” He shouted out with a smug smirk.

The next thing he knew, you were on top of him. Your hands covered his mouth as you straddled his hips. “You little freak! You seriously think I want PSIA or CIRO to know about how you bit my clit.” You were easily rolled off, Suguru laying on top of you, his hands prying yours away from his mouth.

“Oh, Y/N, I love it when you talk acronyms to me.” He gently kissed your palms. “So sexy, really get my cock throbbing.” You sputtered and looked off as a warm breeze flowed through the room. Suguru grinned against your hand. You were so cute when you pouted like this. “So Google Home is a no-go, what about Reddit?” Sighing in defeat, you nodded, watching your boyfriend type on his phone. “I, twenty-seven male, bit my girlfriend's clit. What should I do to treat it?”

God, you could already hear the cringy TikTok videos using your horror story for views. Luckily, Suguru got the answer: antibacterial soap, warm water, and aspirin.

Suguru left and returned, finding you sitting on the couch, your hand pressing against yourself through your shorts. The sight made him cringe in sympathetic pain. He bit you hard, and he knew it hurt from your scream. If he could take the pain from you, he would. Alas, there was nothing he could do to change it, but he could help ease the pain.

“I got the goods.” He announced, holding up a plastic bag. “Let’s go get ya’ in the shower.”

You stripped out of your clothes, standing naked in the bathroom as Suguru started running the water. Seeing him so attentive like this made you swoon. You truly were lucky to have found someone as kind as him. Suguru made you feel special, like royalty, aside from the whole biting of your clit.

“Alright, there's the soap, unscented per Reddit.” He placed the white bar of soap in your hand. “The fluffiest wash cloth the store had for your perfect pussy.” a fluffy pink cloth was placed in your other hand. “And open your mouth.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.” You did as he said, and he held up a bottle of allergy medication. “To ease the sinus’.” He dropped the pill in your mouth before handing you some water. “Because the next time I come home and find you looking delicious in the living room, I don't want you sneezing when I'm going down on you.”

After swallowing the pill, you laughed. “Looked delicious, huh?” Suguru nodded, his hand reaching into his pockets as you entered the shower.

“Delicious, gorgeous, absolutely radiant.” His Words were as warm and comforting as the water running down your body. “It got me thinking about coming home like that every day, to you, with a couple of kids running around.”

Pulling the shower curtain back, you glowered at him. “Geto Suguru, don't you even think about proposing to me after you bit my clit!” Something flickered in his eyes, amusement as he cocked a dark brown in your direction.

“Okay, no impromptu post clit biting proposals.”

“Thank you!” You breathed out a huff through your nostrils. “Now hurry up and come get in with me.”

“Right, let me just put the ice cream away.”

Your head poked out from behind the curtain, eyes glittering joyfully. “Ice cream?!” Suguru walked backward as he headed into your room.

“Of course! I needed to get my girl a treat after I hurt her.” You watched him turn the corner. “Be right back.”

While you did a little happy dance in the shower, Suguru walked into the living room. Getting down on his knees, he wiggled the loose floorboard by the backdoor and pulled the small wood plank up. With a heavy sigh, Suguru reached into his pocket, pulling out the blue velvet box he had slid inside before he had hurt you. He opened it to examine the ring he picked out for you six months ago.

“Oh well, there's always next time.” The disappointment was thick in his voice as he put the box back in its hiding place. With the floorboard secure, Suguru slowly stripped out of his clothes as he headed back to you.

Nanami Kento:

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cried out as Nanami gave you a worried look.

“Hang in there. Ijichi is pulling up.”

The sleek black car pulled up, almost making your dislocated shoulder feel better. It held the promise of relief to come. Ijichi got out, rushing towards the two of you as Nanami ushered you forward.

“I'm sorry it took so long. The traffic was terrible. But as soon as you called, I stopped What I was doing to head straight over.”

Nanami shook his head, grabbing the handle of the backseat. “No, don't apologize, Ijichi. We should be thanking you for taking us to the hospital.” You modded as Nanami slowly opened the door.

“Yeah, Ijichi, I hope you weren't doing anything important. Thank you.”

“Oh, well, I was actually taking Gojo home.”

Nanami promptly slammed the door shut. Staring at the dark void of the window. In the reflection of the tinted glass, Nanami could see the look of horror that washed over your face. This wasn't happening. No way, no way. Having Gojo here was both of your worst nightmares.

You stepped back, nervously laughing. “Ya’ know what! L- Let’s walk to the emergency room!” Seeing the opportunity you made, Nanami followed your lead.

“Yes! It's a beautiful evening for a stroll.” Nanami bends down, leaning into your ear. “Walk.”

“Wait! I-I don't think that's wise! Y/N, you're injured!”

You waved your uninjured hand at Ijichi. “Eh, injured, not injured! Who cares!!” The nervousness was as thick as honey in your voice.

The black window slowly rolled down, leaving you and Nanami frozen. Gojo Satoru poked his head out the window, eyeing the both of you with a wide grin. A grin you knew had a vein in Nanami’s head twitching. Gojo hummed, twirling his finger in your direction.

“Let’s see, wet hair, dislocated shoulder, bite marks galore.”

“It's not what it looks like!” Gojo was unfazed by your interjection, his head tilting to look up at your irritated boyfriend.

“Wet hair, hickies, the pure frustration unfinished ‘business’!” A bark of laughter sounded from the back of his throat. “I don't even need to use Six-Eyes to figure this out. Shower sex gone wrong, Nanamin~?” Nanami looked like he was about to throw a black-flash at Gojo while you blushed a darker shade. “No shame! I could give you some pointers if you want!”

Your mind tried to think of some sarcastic retort, but your thoughts were on hold as you heard the car door open. Slowly blinking, you watched a furious Nanami reaching for Gojo. “K-Kento!” You scrambled forward, grabbing his arm with your noninjured arm. “Don’t kill him!” Gojo was snickering, giving Nanami a shit-eating grin. “Let’s just go! Get in the car!”

Ijichi drove the two (three including Gojo) to the emergency room, where your arm was popped back into place and put into a sling. While Nanami stopped to pick up your prescription at the hospital's pharmacy, he glared at Gojo as he showed you his phone screen. He didn’t know why he insisted on coming with the two of you. The man was persistent, not listening, even when Nanami snapped at him to go away. With your prescription in hand, Nanami quietly headed back. He was trying to listen to your conversation.

“See, this one would probably work for you guys,” Gojo said, tapping his screen. “This way, you won’t slip or dislocate your shoulder, ya’ know?”

“Oooh!” The way your eyes glittered with awe had Nanami’s heart skipping a beat. “Oh my god! That’s awesome!”

“What’s so awesome?” You perked up, glancing up at Nanami.

“Babe! Did you know they make shower sex steps?! It suctions to the wall, and I can prop my foot up!”

Nanami trailed his gaze slowly to his blindfolded colleague, who whistled innocently. “Trying to corrupt my girlfriend?” He asked as he gently helped you stand.

“I’m just a friend looking out for my other friends' relationship! Just one slip doesn’t mean shower sex should be a no-go!”

Nanami shook his head, wrapping his arm tentatively around your waist. “Kento, can we get one? Please! I wanna try it out!” You were bouncing with excitement.

“Let's wait six weeks before that; give you some time to heal.” While you were disappointed, you nodded in agreement. This was time to heal, not to get freaky.

But imagine your surprise six weeks later when Gojo dropped a package on your desk. “Have fun!!” Was all he got out before you were shoving past him, rushing to find Nanami. Things were expected to be wet and wild all night.

Choso Kamo:

You stared at the mirror, evening your nose. Choso had accidentally sucker-punched you two hours ago. Having broken your nose. But what sort of sorcerer would you be if you couldn’t fix that? You easily grabbed it and popped it back into place with a sickening crunch. One that had your boyfriend turning three shades paler than he already was.

Your nose was swollen and a little discolored. You’d be bruised for sure, but you didn’t mind. It was like an unpleasurable hickey—a reminder of the fun you and Choso had.

The broken nose didn’t bother you, but despite countless attempts to ensure Choso it was okay, he still sulked. It was too long after that he said he was leaving for a bit. You figured he just needed some time to get over what had happened.

He had been gone for an hour so far, enough time for you to shower and crawl into the clean sheets you both put on. You had anticipated him to be gone longer, so you whirled towards the bedroom door as he creaked open further.

“Welcome home!” Choso’s heart felt like it was beating a million miles a minute. Your cute smile, the warmth of your voice, everything about you made his stomach flutter; no, butterflies, Yuuji said. You gave him the butterflies. “Where did you run off to?”

“I stopped at the store.” He offered you his hand. “Come with me?”

Choso led you back out to the living room. He motioned to various items: a nose splint, medical tape, and an ice pack. Then, there were all different kinds of snacks and candy, all of which were your favorites.

Your boyfriend never went out to clear his head. No, he went out to get you things to make you feel better. The compassionate gesture made your heart crawl up your throat as lights shimmered over your eyes as they filled with tears. None of your exes had ever done anything remotely sweet. His gesture proved to you how much Choso cared, how sweet he was.

“Oh no, why are you crying?!”

“Cho—”

“I-I’m so sorry! Does your nose hurt? Let’s see!” His warm, frantic eyes grazed over the table. Hands were picking up bottles. “Aspirin, aspirin!”

Your slender fingers gently wrapped around his trembling hand, holding it. “N-No Cho—“ you were too stunned to speak, “baby, this is so thoughtful and sweet. Thank you, no one’s ever done something like this for me before.” The worry on his cute face faded into a more relaxed expression.

“Oh?” You hummed, interlocking your fingers with him. “So I did a good job?” If the man had a tail, you were sure he’d be wagging it.

Choso watched as you stood on your tip toes before petting him on the head. “You did a good job, baby; seriously, you’re the best boyfriend ever.” The wide grin on his face warmed your heart as he excitedly showered you all the things he bought.

He truly was the best boyfriend in the world. You must have done something right in your past life to deserve him. God, he was so precious! You just wanted to chew on his cheeks. But that would have to wait until your nose was healed. For now, you were perfectly content with him putting the nose splint on your face before he snuggled you on the couch.

[helloalycia]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] — 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

one / two / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when someone asks you out, things get tense between you and Skye and you aren’t sure how to deal with it.

warning/s: the usual warnings that have come with this fic lol.

author's note: and here's the last part! this was a fun one to write, and it's always fun to write for naomi since there aren't many characters of hers i can write for!! (still salty terra nova was cancelled 😭). So yeah, hope you guys like it 🥰

Skye was recording some bits at a studio in the city and we were supposed to hang out after, but I didn't have much else to do and ended up arriving early. As she finished up, I hung around to let her finish, snooping around the building and chatting with some of the staff there.

As I was, I ended up getting caught in some conversation with one of the production assistants, Anna. It was always nice to get to know new people, but I didn't realise it was more than that until she started to flirt with me. Maybe she always was and I was too dumb to notice, but I was awkwardly flattered.

Still, she was interesting and we seemed to get on, getting lost in conversation for about ten minutes. Only when Skye finally finished in the studio and left to find me did the conversation end.

"There you are," she said with a smile when she saw me, before noticing Anna. "Oh, hello."

"You're Skye Riley," Anna noticed with an amazed smile, before glancing at me. "You know, I thought you were playing me when you said she was your friend."

I exhaled with amusement, shaking my head. "Not playing."

She gave me a surprised look before looking to Skye politely. "Sorry, how rude of me. I'm Anna. I work here. Big fan of your music."

"Nice to meet you, Anna," Skye greeted with an easygoing smile.

"You done?" I asked Skye, referring to her work.

"Done," she confirmed.

I nodded, before offering a friendly nod to Anna. "It was great meeting you, Anna. I should go. Skye and I have plans."

Anna nodded. "Of course, yeah, you mentioned..." She paused, hesitating as she glanced shyly at Skye before meeting my gaze. "Did you wanna, maybe, hang out some time?"

I raised an eyebrow, hoping my surprise wasn't too obvious. Skye swallowed awkwardly when she realised what was happening.

"Sorry, I'll give you guys a moment," she mumbled before leaving to wait down the hall.

I didn't know what to think as I looked back to Anna, seeing her waiting hopefully. "I– sure."

Anna breathed out, relieved, as she pulled out her phone. "Great. You wanna put your number in here and I'll text you so you have mine?"

I nodded, body working on autopilot as we exchanged numbers. It wasn't that she wasn't lovely – she really was – but I wasn't used to someone actually outright flirting with me like she had been. Plus, I was always awkward when it came to pretty girls.

"Got it," I said when my phone dinged with a text from her.

"Awesome," she said with a bright smile. "I'm expecting a message," she added jokingly.

"Sure," I said with a nervous smile.

She chuckled before straightening up. "Right, I'll let you go. See you soon, Y/N. Hopefully."

"See you," I said as I watched her leave, still surprised at how someone as pretty as her actually wanted a date with me. And so confidently too.

Shaking my head, I rejoined Skye who was lurking at the end of the hallway, watching the whole encounter as much as she tried to pretend she wasn't.

"Hey," she said when I stopped by her side. "Ready?"

I hummed as I fell onto step with her, the two of us going to the lift.

"So, who was that?" she asked whilst we waited inside. "You got a date?"

I shrugged, still replaying the encounter in my mind. "We just got to talking and I wasn't expecting her to be interested in me, but... yeah. She gave me her number."

Skye nodded, eyebrows raised slightly. "Cool... so are you interested?"

I glanced at her, unsure. "I don't know. I just wasn't expecting it. You know I get talking to people when I'm bored."

She smiled slightly. "Yeah, I do. It's so annoying how social you are sometimes."

I rolled my eyes playfully and continued, "I'm not sure if I'll text her."

She hummed, looking to the lift doors as they opened, and stepped out. Her lack of advice was disorienting me.

"Do you think I should?" I asked, falling back into step with her.

"What?" she asked, glancing over at me with an unreadable expression.

I quirked a brow, wondering if she was even listening. "Text her back?"

She nodded slowly. "Well, do you want to?"

I felt my cheeks grow warm as I looked away, smiling nervously. "I don't know."

"It can't hurt, can it? It might be nice."

I chewed on my lip, pondering her words. I wasn't even sure why I was overthinking it. It was just a date.

"Just take it easy though," she said nonchalantly as we walked out the building and down the street. "You don't wanna lead her on or anything."

"True," I agreed. "Might be worth a shot though. We did get on. The spark was there."

"Just don't get attached," she warned, glancing sideways at me. "You tend to do that."

It took a moment for her words to digest, and when they did, I grew offended. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What? You do," she said lightheartedly, but it did nothing to put me at ease. Probably noticing my expression, she tried to amend her words. "Sorry, what I meant was– you go all in, y'know? I just don't want to see you get hurt."

I blinked, looking ahead. "Wow. Thanks."

"No, I didn't mean it as an insult," she said quickly, hand wrapping around my arm as if to get my attention. "I'm just looking out for you, Y/N."

I didn't know why her words stung, but they did. Was that seriously how she viewed me? As someone who got overly attached?

It made sense, in some way, especially after everything that happened with us. But it still hurt coming from her, probably because deep down I knew she was right. Except, the only person I'd ever gotten attached to was her. My mistake, I was well aware.

Suddenly, she stopped in front of me, facing me with a guilty frown on her lips. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It wasn't nice of me to say."

I looked down. "Doesn't matter."

"It does," she said firmly, squeezing my arm. "Really. I'm so sorry."

A little embarrassed, the familiarity of the situation creeping in, I shook my head. "It's fine. Let's just go find somewhere to eat."

To my relief, she gave in and we both continued walking to find somewhere. Admittedly, the tension was still present on my side, my feelings stewing with each step. It was disheartening, knowing she thought of me like that, joke or not.

We ate in an awkward silence, and Skye made attempts at conversation but I couldn't force myself to entertain them.

"How's your burger?" she asked, nodding to my plate. "Food here's nice, isn't it?"

I hummed halfheartedly, picking at my fries.

She sighed softly, losing her smile. "Y/N, I didn't mean what I said before."

"It's fine," I told her once more.

Her eyes flickered between mine knowingly. "You're upset."

I merely shrugged, looking down to my plate, only making her sigh again.

"You should go out with her," she said, as if that was what I wanted to hear and would make up for what she'd said. It only made me feel worse.

I ignored her, instead responding, "Let's just talk about something else. How's your tour prep going?"

She frowned slightly, clearing her throat. "Erm, fine, I suppose... Not long left now. I'm just finalising outfits and..."

As she talked a little about it, my previous anger and hurt had long faded into disheartenment. It was frustrating to admit to myself, but Skye's reaction wasn't one I'd hoped for. I wanted her to tell me not to go out with Anna, that she didn't like the idea. And that's when I knew I was delusional.

And definitely not over my best friend.

After paying for our food, Skye and I left the restaurant, awkwardly lingering outside.

"I should go," I spoke before she could. "I've got some work to do."

She nodded, sensing my mood and not saying anything else. I hesitated, noticing the discomfort in her expression, before pulling her in for a hug. It wasnt her fault I was so conflicted – she couldn't have known anything about where my head was at and taking it out on her wasn't fair.

She returned my hug, relieved. "Talk later?"

I nodded as I pulled back, offering her a small smile, hopefully letting her know that I wasn't upset. At least, not at her.

She returned it, grateful, before squeezing my arm gently and letting me go. Meanwhile, I knew I needed to fix whatever was wrong with me before it got worse.

—

I did end up texting Anna back and we'd arranged a date a week later. Part of me thought it could be good to put myself back out there with someone lovely like Anna, but the other part of me also used it as a fast track to get over whatever feelings I had for Skye.

Despite our brief argument, Skye was supportive when I told her, being a typical best friend who wanted to know all the details when she could. I believed that if I played the part hard enough, it would feel real and I'd get over her. But no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't.

The date was great. Not a thing I could fault and yet I still returned home feeling deflated and hollow. Anna was the perfect date and we had a lovely time bowling, but all I could think about was Skye and how much I wanted it to be her. It was awful, from that perspective, and definitely made my scrambled head worse.

As I took a moment to collect myself on the couch as soon as I entered my apartment, my phone rang. Speaking of the devil...

"Hey, Skye," I answered tiredly.

"Is your date done? I wanna know everything!" she said excitedly.

I sighed, massaging my head. "Yes, but–"

"Awesome! I just finished some boring photo shoot and am on my way back, but I thought I may as well stop by yours, that cool?"

I scrunched my face up in disagreement, her face being the last I needed to see right now. "I'm actually kind of tired, Skye."

She laughed, sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, grow up, baby. See you soon!"

Before I could protest, she'd hung up, leaving me to drag out a long groan as I leaned back in irritation. So much for self-deprecating for the rest of the evening. 

By the time I'd gotten into my pyjamas and freshened up, there was a knock at my door. Reluctantly, I went to answer it, seeing Skye on the other side.

Her smile faded when she noticed my expression. "Oh, no, how did it go?"

I turned around, flopping down on the couch, face-first. "Average."

The door closed and she approached the couch. "No wow factor?"

I shook my head as she took a seat beside my head, resting her hand in my hair and stroking it gently which did nothing to help with my racing heart.

"It's okay," she said softly. "At least you tried."

I exhaled into the couch cushion before sitting up, facing her as I leaned against the back.

"What wasn't great?" she asked sympathetically, leaning her elbow on the back cushion and watching me carefully.

I shook my head, unable to hold her gaze and instead focusing on the loose thread from the cushion. "It was fine. Anna was lovely. But I just... yeah."

She hummed in understanding. "Sorry."

All I could do was shrug.

After a moment, she lifted her arm out, extending it. "Come here."

I hesitated, unsure if this was the best next move. But I felt like crap and Skye was my best friend first and foremost. So, I crawled over to her and let her pull me in for a hug against her chest. She stroked my hair again, kissing the top of my head and making me sigh with comfort.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asked, voice mumbled as her lips were still pressed to the top of my head.

I shook my head gently.

"Alright." She continued to stroke my hair soothingly. "Wanna get your mind off it? We could watch a movie."

I swallowed thickly, not in the mood for anything right now.

"Or I can leave and give you some space," she continued, seeming to notice my mood.

As much as I hadn't wanted her here, I now didn't want her to leave. Shaking my head, I sat upright. "No, you can stay. We'll watch something."

She searched my eyes with a hint of concern. "You sure?"

I nodded, rubbing my face with my hands. "Yeah. I just need to pee. Pick a film, I'll be back."

She nodded and I got up to go to the bathroom, using it as a chance to splash some cold water on my face too. I sighed deeply, pushing away my conflicted thoughts for the time being and returning to the couch.

As I took a seat, I noticed some snacks on the table, but the weirdest assortment of them. There were cookies, some carrot sticks, hummus and a bowl of nuts.

"Er... what is this?" I asked Skye with confusion, glancing over at her as she returned from the kitchen with two glasses of juice.

"It's all I could find," she answered, before shooting me a disapproving look. "You really need to go shopping."

I cracked a small smile as she set the glasses on the table and took a seat beside me.

"Hey, there's that smile!" she exclaimed with a satisfactory gun.

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly, stifling my smile, and instead distracted myself with eating some carrot sticks. She grabbed a handful of nuts and got comfortable, pulling her legs up on the couch.

"Thanks," I said softly, gratefully.

"You don't need to thank me," she retorted, glancing at me, but I couldn't look at her without feeling strange.

I leaned back and got comfortable, and Skye started up a film on the TV. It was easy enough to settle in and the film was a well-needed distraction from everything. But naturally, I was falling asleep halfway through it. It didn't help that it was late, I was already pretty tired and Skye was extremely comfortable.

By the time the film ended, I was half out of it, in that weird in between state of awake but asleep. My eyes were closed and I was barely paying attention until Skye sighed from beside me.

"That wasn't that bad, y'know," she decided. "I thought it would be worse given the ratings."

I hummed quietly, acknowledging her words but not really listening.

"You didn't even watch it, did you?"

"I did," I mumbled as convincingly as I could.

She chuckled, her shoulders moving and waking me up in the process. "Liar."

A yawn escaped my lips as I forced myself to sit upright, off her shoulder. She was watching me with amusement.

"Comfy?" she teased.

Too sleepy to care, I answered, "I'd apologise, but it's kind of expected if you let me lay on you."

She laughed wholeheartedly, brightening up the whole night for a moment. "You're lucky I find you comfy too."

I sighed tiredly, sitting on my side and leaning on my elbow, propped up against the back of the couch.

"You feel any better?" she asked, and I looked up at her through my eyelashes.

"A bit," I mumbled. "Thanks."

"Stop thanking me," she said with a soft smile, making me scrunch my face slightly.

"Sorry."

She rolled her eyes playfully, stifling a laugh, and I yawned again as I watched her. It could have been my fatigue-induced state, or the fact that I was hopelessly in love with my best friend, but I couldn't stop admiring how beautiful she looked before me. No makeup, messy hair, sparkling brown eyes, cute smile.

It was wrong of me to stare, wrong of my eyes to trace the arch of her brows, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips... I'd imagined kissing her many times before, but I'd never wanted to actually do it as much as I did now.

She smiled, oblivious to my daydreams, and mimicked my pose, leaning on her elbow on the back of the couch, way too close to my expression. "Whatcha thinking, huh?" she asked playfully.

My breath hitched as my eyes lowered to her lips, only inches from mine. Time stood still. All it would take is a second, but could I?

No, I couldn't. I couldn't ruin everything because of a silly desire.

Swallowing thickly, I moved back and looked away, acting as nonchalant as I could. "Just tired."

She fell quiet as she sat up straight, and I wondered if she knew what I'd wanted to do. Maybe I'd messed it up anyway. It certainly hadn't helped with my conflicted thoughts.

"I should go," she realised. "You should sleep."

I nodded, unsure what to say, and then I saw her making a move to clear up the snacks on the coffee table.

"it's fine, I'll sort it," I said awkwardly, standing up.

She glanced at me. "You sure?"

I couldn't meet her eyes, too hot with shame. "Yeah."

"Okay," she said softly, before going to the door to pull on her shoes.

I lingered awkwardly until she opened the door, glancing at me briefly.

"Goodnight," she said.

"Night," I muttered.

She left and I closed the door behind her, releasing a deep breath. How had I messed things up so easily? All I could hope was I hadn't made her uncomfortable, but it was impossible. Even staring had overstepped, and it was just like she'd said to me a year ago – it was written all over my face. How utterly embarrassing.

—

That evening haunted me long after, it replaying in my mind over and over like a bad dream. So much that I couldn't bring it in myself to face Skye, not whilst my thoughts were a jumbled mess.

Two weeks passed and I kept our contact to the bare minimum whilst I tried to figure my feelings out. I wasn't sure if I could be her friend anymore, as much as I wanted to be. But it wasn't fair on her if I still had feelings for her.

She messaged me, but I kept my responses vague. My only relief was that she was leaving for her tour in a week, so maybe it would be easier not seeing her as much. Maybe it would've been easier to stop being her friend if I distanced myself long enough.

But it was stupid to think that, not when we'd just reconciled and I thought she wouldn't notice my absence.

I was at my apartment one afternoon when I got an unexpected visit from her. As soon as I opened the door, I raised my brows with surprise.

"Skye? What are you doing here?"

Her eyes met mine sternly. "You're avoiding me."

"What?"

She pushed past me gently to let herself in, leaving me no choice but to close the door after her and spin around.

"At first, I thought you were still upset because of your date with Anna," she started, making me wince, "but then you kept being distance and I just– I don't know what I've done!"

I sighed, feeling stupid for thinking I could get away with it. "You haven't–"

"Don't bullshit me," she snapped, fixing me with a glare. "I'm not stupid."

Her hurt expression forced me to look away, the guilt sinking in.

She took a deep breath before asking in a gentler tone, "What is it? Talk to me."

I tensed my jaw uncomfortably. "Nothing."

"Stop lying," she ordered, before taking my chin and turning my face towards her. Worried eyes found mine. "What is it?"

I pulled back in a knee-jerk reaction, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Don't."

She frowned, confused. "What? Did I do something wrong?"

I sighed deeply, avoiding her gaze. "I can't do this... I'm sorry."

"Do what?"

I swallowed thickly, struggling to find the courage but knowing it needed to be done. "I can't be friends with you anymore."

She paused, taken aback, and her voice broke my heart when she finally spoke. "What? What are you talking about?"

I shook my head, looking down at the floor.

"What?" she repeated, growing impatient, and it only made the whole situation worse.

"I can't..."

"Look at me."

I forced myself to look up, the guilt pressing on my chest when I saw her wounded expression.

"What the hell are you saying?" she asked carefully, searching my gaze. "Is this because of what happened the night of your date? The last time I was here?"

I grimaced at her bluntness, making her tense her jaw. So she'd noticed then.

"It is," she realised.

"You were fucking right, okay?" I spoke abruptly. "A year ago, when we argued and you– you said what you did."

"I was fucking high all the time," she interrupted angrily. "I didn't mean any of it."

"But you did," I retorted, frowning, forcing myself to hold her stare otherwise this was all for nothing. "Deep down, a part of you did and, fuck, it hurt so much because you were right, okay? I– I was fucking in love with you. And I know it was foolish of me, but it was true."

Her eyes widened slightly, stunned, but I couldn't seem to stop now that I'd started.

"It was horrible and it ruined everything and that's why I can't be friends with you. Because I thought I was over it but I'm fucking not, okay? And– and the other night, I didn't mean to make things weird. But my head is a mess and I don't know what to do because all I wanted to do was fucking kiss you, and I know that's wrong, it is. And I'm sorry, but I can't keep being friends with you and put you in this position again. Especially not now."

I was shaking by the time I'd finished, heart racing too fast for me to keep track of. After almost a decade, I'd finally told her the truth. And it didn't feel any more liberating than it should have.

She swallowed hard, looking down with furrowed brows as if trying to digest my admission. I'd been so focused on getting it out of me that I hadn't even had time to anticipate how she could react.

"You were in love with me?" she finally spoke, looking to me with questioning eyes. "You're in love with me?"

I almost scoffed, eyes watering. "Like you didn't know? You said it yourself, Skye..."

She frowned regretfully. "What I said to you that day was awful. It wasn't fair of me. And yes, maybe I did know, but it– I wasn't uncomfortable... I..." She hesitated, before admitting, "I was in love with you too. I just– you deserved better than me. You still do."

I blinked back my tears as I studied her closely, with confusion. There was no way that was true. How could she have thought such a thing?

She stepped forward, slowly lifting her hand to touch my face, gauging my reaction. When I didn't push her away or step back, she cupped my cheek, thumb stroking my cheekbone, and my whole body felt like it was on fire.

"I wanted you to kiss me," she said softly, eyes flickering between mine. "Last time, I– I thought you were going to."

I blinked, taken aback. "What?"

She frowned, looking down momentarily as she said, "I didn't want you to go on that fucking date. But I wasn't going to be selfish and stop you. I just– I care about you a lot, Y/N. You mean the world to me. You always have."

Rendered speechless, I didn't know what to think or say. She'd reacted in a way that I'd never anticipated – never dreamed of – nor thought was possible.

Her dark eyes found mine once more, too close to be anything but a blur of golden flecks.

"I don't want to be friends either," she murmured, before pressing her lips to mine.

My eyes widened with surprise and then she tugged me closer and I instinctively relaxed into her, eyes fluttering close. Her lips were warm and tasted like berries, moving against mine in a perfect rhythm. My hands fell to her hips, goosebumps dancing all over my skin, and I couldn't seem to remember a single thing prior to this.

When we pulled apart for air, every part of my body felt aflame. My lips were tingling and she was still so close, too close for me to find words.

"Maybe things would've been different if I'd been honest in the first place," she spoke softly, breath tickling my lips, only reminding me of the feeling of hers against them.

I didn't know what to say, too stunned by the truth of her feelings.

"I missed you," she admitted, hand lowering from my cheek and to my chest. "It was only two weeks, but I thought I'd ruined everything."

"I'm sorry," I managed to get out, not intending to hurt her.

She shook her head. "Don't be," she assured me, before hugging me tightly.

I let out a quiet breath and wrapped my arms around her, sinking into her embrace. It was still a lot to accept – that she'd loved me too. That she did, even now.

"You haven't said much," she noticed, pulling back with a stifled concern.

"It's just a surprise," I shared, not wanting her to second guess anything. "I really thought... I thought you only ever saw me as a friend. Still trying to process it."

She smiled a little, understanding. "Yeah... I wanted to tell you sooner. Years ago. I almost did. Many times. But everything got bad and it just..." She sighed regretfully. "I didn't want to pull you down with me. That version of me wasn't good enough for you."

I frowned, looking between her eyes. "That's not true."

"It is," she said knowingly. "But it's okay. I want to be better than that girl."

"You are," I said sincerely, taking her hand in mine and squeezing it gently.

Her eyes twinkled as she smiled hopefully. "I hope so. For your sake."

I couldn't help but smile too, touched by how much she cared.

"My tour kicks off at the end of the week, but I'd really like to take you out on a proper date before then," she said, taking my other hand in hers.

"It can wait," I reassured her, "I know it's full on for the next few days–"

"No, no, just one," she cut me off eagerly, squeezing my hands. "Before I have to go and won't see you for ages."

I stifled the urge to laugh. "Okay, but if it's too much, Skye, I can wait until–"

Before I could finish, she leaned forward and kissed me, surprising me for the second time. I was too taken aback to react, and then she pulled away and I felt my cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

"That's got to be my new favourite way of shutting you up," she said with a satisfied grin.

I groaned quietly, flustered, and she laughed at my dismay. I suppose there could have been worse ways.

[gffa]

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii

Do you take rec requests? If so, can I ask for your recs for Obi Wan centric fics where Obi Wan is just absolutely adored by everyone around him? Like people love him, think he's great, beautiful, talented, etc. you could also include fics where Anakin isn't one of his adoring fans but he comes around eventually. If you've ever read the Shoulder The Sky series by @kcrabb88 ? Where Anakin is kind of weird about Obi Wan in the beginning but he'd die for him at the end? Yeah like that.

Preferably no Obitine please, and also no order 66, if you would. They can be fix its or maybe they just don't get to order 66 in canon. Long and short is fine. I just want to read fic to justify my absolute rabidity over Obi Wan Kenobi.

Yknow if you're going to answer the ask? Might as well include every fic that you know that portrays Obi Wan very well. Whether everyone thinks so or not, I just want an excuse to fangirl over Obi Wan. Whether it's cute adorable initiate obi wan; smart skilled Padawan Kenobi, best master in the galaxy Kenobi, best general in the gar Kenobi, unfuckwithable Kenobi that everyone knows not to piss off, the Jedi's best member, whatever. Just fics of obi wan being great, whether people acknowledge it and love him, or acknowledge it and go still like prey animals when he looks at them

Hi! Oh, this is going to be a bit of a difficult set, mostly because avoiding Order 66 is a tough one, and I'm not sure how you are with various Obi-Wan pairings (which tend to have some good Obi-Wan fic), but I can at least start you out with a few recs sets I've done that have a lot of Obi-Wan fic and hopefully the Order 66 fic will be pretty avoidable.

My Star Wars fic recs tag (pretty much anything that mentions Obi-Wan in the subject will treat him well)

Obi-Wan Kenobi epic fic

Post-OBW's first two episodes-centric set

It's hard because some of my favorites:

Reprise by Elfpen (absolutely epic time travel fic that does the really good, hard work of showing us the timeline shifting and why it has to be done in baby steps)

Fire and Ice by Yesac (set in an AU where Order 66 happened, but Anakin won the fight and took both Obi-Wan and Padme hostage, and it's about the incredibly long road to recovery from there, which does have some love = attachment minor, minor notes, but has an Obi-Wan characterization that was fundamental to how I see the character)

Aren't necessarily about Order 66, but it does happen in both those fics, as something that's either being avoided or fixing the aftermath of them, and I'm not sure where you stand on such things, since you don't want Order 66. Same for

The Desert Storm by Blue_Sunshine (time travel AU where Order 66 happened in Ben's timeline, but not in the one the fic is set during)

Knightrise by deviantaccumulation (this one includes Order 66 happening on-screen, but it's an AU where more Jedi survive and they go into hiding together to rebuild)

where it's time travel to fix things, is that still over your line? Is it about the other characters that love Obi-Wan or the narrative of the story that loves Obi-Wan, because that would change a lot of the recs I make! Not that he's unloved in them, but Cataclasm by dendral is one of my favorites, but it has Obi-Wan off on his own a lot of the time, so the narrative loves him, but the people around him aren't in the room with him, etc. I also have a Jedi culture set of recs, which you can scroll through to find Obi-Wan mentioned in the summary, it's probably going to be about how much everyone loves him. But some good places to start for you would be:

ruth baulding's Lineage series and then her Legacy series. The first series is an epic length run of adventures when Obi-Wan was a padawan with Qui-Gon, and then the second series is his time teaching Anakin, with more adventures

Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, a fantastic look at Jedi theology, philosophy, and interaction, with Obi-Wan in a prominent role.

Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi stonefreeak, which is crack treated seriously, very Jedi-positive, and while it's an ensemble piece overall, Obi-Wan is very much at the heart of the story and the focus will always come back to him. Just so much fun and very soft on the heart, this is a universe where everything goes right.

Tano and Kenobi by FireflyFish, which is a time travel fic where Ahsoka goes back into the past and becomes Padawan Obi-Wan's Master instead of Qui-Gon. The fic is kind of harsh on Qui-Gon, but if you love the disaster lineage or if you just want more Obi-Wan & Ahsoka, this fic will scratch the itch so good.

Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) Rhiw, another time travel fic where Order 66 did happen, but the fic is about Legends!Obi-Wan taking a different path from what happened in the first Jedi Apprentice book, instead of becoming Qui-Gon's Padawan the way he did in canon, he and Bruck go to Bandomeer and then get wrapped up in an epic story about Obi-Wan slowly changing the galaxy's course.

walk by faith/tell no one what you've seen by Killbothtwins, which is time travel with Obi-Wan after the end of the galactic civil war (the one against the Empire) going back to his 12 year old self and diverting the timeline, with a really great voice for Obi-Wan's character in this fic.

The Uses of a Sandwich by Laura Kaye (laurakaye) is a fun young Padawan Obi-Wan fic where he meets Qui-Gon's first apprentice and has a great sense of comedy.

Uncle Ben and Little Luke by phoenixyfriend which is de-aged!Luke and suddenly alive again!Obi-Wan and is just so much fun for a dynamic that doesn't get enough fic. (NEVER ENOUGH.)

Well Met by avocadomoon is one if you don't mind Obi-Wan/Padme fic, where they develop a friendship and later in life just slowly fall into a relationship, where it's about discussions and politics and philosophy and worldbuilding, it's such a subtle dynamic between them in a way that felt so natural to me. I also enjoyed the author's other fic Anamorphosis just as much, too.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: my tears ricochet | part i

pairing: husband's best friend!joel miller x female reader

rating: chapter - t; full work - explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 7k

summary: after moving from new york to texas with your fiance, you expect to jump right into wedding planning with his help. when he claims to be too busy, he suggests asking his best friend, joel miller, to help you instead.

you weren't supposed to fall in love with him.

author's note: this story is a three part fic inspired by the song "my tears ricochet" by taylor swift. this first part is reader's POV, part two will be joel's POV, and the third part will be dual POV. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!

chapter tags: modern au, infidelity, emotional abuse, the fiance is shitty, no use of y/n, single POV (reader), wedding dress shopping and other wedding planning activities, angst, arguing, alcohol consumption/mention, kissing, no smut. please let me know if i've missed any!

major work tags: modern au, infidelity, explicit sexual content, character death

You stare out at the manicured yard, watching as guests move about the grounds and waiters in black uniforms carry trays of food and drinks through the crowd. Your boyfriend -- wait, no, fiancé -- Alex laughs boisterously with your father, a hand on his back in easy familiarity. You know you should be down there with him given that this is your engagement party, but you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the constant smiling and greeting strangers and showing off your shiny new engagement ring that you needed a break.

The door opens and a man you don't recognize steps into the room, pale blue dress shirt stretched tight across his broad chest and a pair of wrinkled dress pants. He runs a hand through his messy dark curls.

"Sorry, I didn't think anyone would be in here," he says. As he looks you over, his brown eyes go wide with surprise. "Shit, you're the bride!"

You smile at him. "That's me," you reply. You hold a hand out towards him as you give him your name, his rough palm sliding against yours as he grips it firmly.

"I'm Joel Miller," he tells you. You know the name well, being that he's your fiancé's best friend. "Didn't mean to make our first time meetin' so awkward."

"No, no, it's not your fault. I've just been feeling a little overwhelmed with all the," you wave your hand towards the window, "festivities. It's great to finally meet you."

"I don't blame ya. They can get pretty stuffy down there. Congrats, by the way."

"Thank you." He lets go of your hand. "So, why are you hiding?"

He laughs, deep and full bellied. "Alex's mom doesn't like me much. I'm sure she was hopin' that we would stop bein' friends when he went to school on the other side of the country, but I’m like a stubborn tick."

"How could she not like you, Alex told me that the two of you have been best friends since kindergarten!"

"There may have been a few mishaps in high school," he says. "You ever tried eggin' your principal's house?"

"Can't say that I have," you reply.

"Well, it doesn't end well if you get caught." He looks out the window with a smile on his face. "We got arrested. Alex's dad had to bail us out. Probably had to throw some hush money around so that it wouldn't show up on his record when he applied to school."

"He's never told me that!" You say, laughing hard enough around the words that your stomach hurts.

The door opens and this time, Alex himself steps into the room. His serious expression morphs into a smile when he sees you and Joel.

"There you are," he says, crossing the room to kiss your cheek. He greets Joel with a hug, patting his back roughly. "What are you two doing in here?"

"I just needed a minute alone," you tell him.

"And I crashed her minute alone. Told her about the time we got arrested in high school," Joel adds. Alex's jaw tenses, his smile tight as his eyes flick to you, like he's worried about your reaction. "She laughed. It's all good."

"Right. Well, I came to find you because its time for the toast and dinner," Alex says. "Let's get back down to our guests."

A hand at the small of your back urges you towards the door before you can reply.

"Alex, are you listening to me?" You ask. Your fiancé looks up from his phone.

"I'm sorry, baby, I was finishing an e-mail," he says. He sets his phone down on the table, dark screen facing up, and gives you his full attention. "What were you saying?"

"I wanted to schedule the cake tasting. Do you have any free time this week?"

He grimaces. "I don't think I do, sweetheart. Your dad's got my schedule pretty packed."

"I can just ask him to--"

"No," he says sternly. "You know I have to make a good impression with the rest of the firm."

"But--"

"Babe, no. I can't do this week. Why don't you ask my mom? Or Joel?"

While your future mother-in-law is kind enough, you don't have much patience for the way she tries to take control of your wedding planning. Joel, however, might be a good idea. He knows Alex well enough to be a stand in for a decision like cake and icing flavors.

"Could you give me Joel's number?"

Alex smiles, seemingly pleased that he's off the hook as he takes his phone in hand and sends you his best friend's phone number.

You meet Joel at the bakery that week. To your surprise he's there before you, dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt and he smiles brightly at you as you approach.

"Hey," he says. "Ready to eat some cake?"

"I think this will be my favorite part of planning this whole wedding," you reply. He laughs as he pulls the door open for you to step inside, following in behind you.

"Welcome to Buttercup Bakery! Can I help y'all with anything?" A young woman with a name tag reading BEVERLY asks from behind the counter, pink and white apron tied around her waist.

"I have a cake tasting appointment," you reply, giving her your name for the reservation.

"Excellent! If you want to go ahead and take a seat anywhere you'd like, I'll bring out the tasting options and we'll get you squared away in no time!"

She disappears through swinging doors as you and Joel take a seat at a pink acrylic table with matching chairs. He looks around the shop with interest.

"What made you pick this place?" He asks.

"Had the best reviews," you say with a shrug. His brow furrows.

"Alex didn't suggest it? He helpin' you at all with this weddin'?"

He says it with a laugh, but the question makes you dig your fingernails into your palm. "He's just really busy with work. I've been doing a lot of the planning."

“What about your uh, what are they called? Bridesmaids?”

“They’re all back in New York. It’s just me.”

“I thought your parents were here, too? Isn’t Alex workin’ with your dad now?”

“It’s just my dad, he’s back in New York. His partner opened a firm in Austin and Alex is working with that office. He’s hoping to make partner soon, too.”

Joel nods, eyes scanning your face but you keep your expression as neutral as possible. The swinging doors open and Beverly returns with a marble tray, bites of cake artfully arranged on the surface. She sets it on the table between you and Joel.

“Okay! These are our six most popular flavor combinations for you to start with and if there’s something more custom you have in mind, we can totally make that happen,” she says. “Starting at the top, we have classic vanilla with vanilla buttercream, chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and chocolate buttercream, our signature champagne cake with strawberry buttercream, lemon cake with lavender buttercream, caramel cake with caramel mocha buttercream, and white chocolate cake with raspberry jam and white chocolate raspberry buttercream.”

Joel grins at you. “This might be the best thing anyone has ever asked me to help with.”

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Beverly says with a wink, walking back to the counter.

“I don’t know which to start with,” you say, eyes scanning the selections.

“That chocolate one is callin’ my name,” Joel replies, spearing one of the chocolate cake bites with a fork and taking a bite. He hums appreciatively. “Oh yeah, that one is a winner.”

You choose the vanilla to start, taking a bite of the moist cake with buttercream that tastes strongly of vanilla bean with a hint of cinnamon. The simplicity makes it good, but overall the flavor doesn't stand out to you. Joel continues to take bites seemingly at random while you opt to go around the tray in the order that Beverly introduced the flavors.

"Any of them stickin' out to you?" Joel asks when you've reached the half-way point.

"They're all delicious," you reply. "I think Alex would probably like the vanilla best, though."

"I didn't ask what Alex would like, I asked if there were any that you liked." He spears the remaining piece of white chocolate raspberry with his fork and holds it up to you. "Here, try this one next."

You eye the fork dubiously. "I don't think--"

Joel slips the bite of cake into your mouth despite your interrupted disagreement, smiling at you triumphantly. You chew the bite begrudgingly.

"I think that one and the chocolate one are my favorite," Joel says as you swallow.

Beverly returns at that moment, a notepad in hand as she pulls up a third chair to the tiny bistro table.

“So? What are your thoughts?”

“I think I’m going to get the vanilla,” you tell her. Joel’s jaw ticks, almost like he’s upset you’ve chosen the flavor that you said Alex would like. “But, could I get alternating tiers of the white chocolate raspberry, too?”

Joel’s lips quirk up in a small smile and you try to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.

Joel: Have you picked flowers yet?

Not yet.

Joel: I know a place. You busy today?

You stare the at the message in surprise. You weren’t expecting to hear from Joel again, but his name on your screen has you fighting back a smile.

I’m not busy. When did you want to go?

Joel: They open at noon. Here’s the address.

“Baby, have you seen my blue tie?” Alex calls from upstairs. You drop your phone to the counter like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.

“Which one?” You reply, pressing a hand to your chest.

“The plaid one!”

“Should be in your tie drawer!”

“It’s not here!”

You pinch your nose, making your way to the stairs to join him in your shared bedroom. He’s standing in front of his tie drawer, hands on his hips as he stares at the contents. You peek over his shoulder and reach into the back, pulling out the neatly folded blue and green patterned tie.

He takes it from your hand. “That one should be towards the front. Can you remember that next time you put away dry cleaning?”

“Sure.” You bite your lip to hold back the sigh that threatens to spill. “You want me to tie it for you?”

“No, thanks, I need it to be perfect. Big meeting,” he says, his lips tilted in a smile that feels condescending. He leans into you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” you murmur, watching his back as he enters the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

Joel is waiting outside of a dark green storefront when you arrive at the address he’d sent you. He smiles when he sees you, a true one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, and it gives you this strange feeling of emptiness because you can’t remember the last time Alex smiled at you like that.

When you’re close enough, he pulls you into a hug that envelops you in strong arms and the scent of woods at nightfall with a hint of citrus. Your eyes flutter shut as you hug him back and breathe him in.

He releases you and immediately you feel a chill in losing his warmth despite the oppressive Texas heat. You look at the shop as he steps back, taking in the gorgeous floral arrangements in the window and cursive script painted on the glass that says PETAL TO THE METAL.

Joel opens the door to the shop, a brass bell ringing to announce your entrance. A man at the counter in the center of the store looks up and grins at you both.

“Joel! Nice to see you,” the man says. You watch as they shake hands with familiarity, the man behind the counter smiling kindly. “You must be the bride. I’m Frank.”

You give Joel a look of surprise before introducing yourself and shaking Frank’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you two know each other?”

“Joel’s an old friend of ours.”

“Ours?”

A back door bangs open, someone emerging with their arms so full of potted plants you can’t see their face. A deep voice let’s out a series of curses.

“This is my partner, Bill,” Frank says. “He’s not much of a people person. Great with plants, though.”

“A little help would be nice,” Bill grunts. Frank rolls his eyes but leaves the counter to take a couple pots from Bill’s hands, revealing a man with long brown hair and a grizzled expression hidden amongst a thick beard. Frank leans in and kisses his cheek.

“You need only ask,” Frank says. Bill’s cheeks turn pink beneath his thick facial hair. Despite the annoyed expression on his face, his eyes are soft as he watches Frank. “Let me grab you the event portfolio and we can talk about your wedding. Have a look around.”

As Frank leaves and Bill busies himself arranging the new plants, you and Joel wander the shop and take in aisles and shelves of different flowers with little gold name cards in their pots or on their buckets.

“So,” Joel says, “How are you liking Austin?”

“It’s…hot,” you reply. “Really, really hot.”

“That’s the south for ya, sweetheart.”

Your face grows hot at the endearment and how it seemed to just roll off his tongue. “Have you lived in Austin your whole life?”

“Texas born n’ bred,” he says proudly, puffing his chest out.

“You never wanted to live anywhere else?”

“I’ve always thought Wyoming sounded nice. A farm that I built, some sheep, no neighbors for miles,” he says wistfully. “Maybe someday.”

“Building a farm, huh? You good with your hands, Joel?”

He blinks at you. “Y-yeah. I mean, I’m a contractor. I gotta be.”

“That’s impressive,” you tell him, biting your lip to hold back your laughter at his flustered response.

Frank approaches, lifting a heavy book in his hands. “You ready to pick some flowers?”

Joel holds the door open for you as the two of you leave the flower shop an hour later. He waves goodbye to Bill and Frank with a promise to visit them for dinner soon before following you down the sidewalk.

“You wanna get lunch?” Joel offers. “My treat.”

You pull your phone from your pocket to check your messages and finding none from Alex, you think to yourself, why not?

“Sure,” you agree.

That's how you find yourself sitting on a bench in the park with Joel Miller, your husband's best friend, talking to him about everything and nothing as you eat street tacos from a food truck nearby. He makes you laugh so hard you choke on birria, the sauce dripping down your chin. He reaches out, wiping the mess with a brown napkin while he smiles so bright it puts the sun to shame.

Later that night, while you're in bed, you can't help but think today was the best day you've had in a long time.

And you're not sure what that means.

You begin texting Joel regularly. You ask him for his opinion on things that Alex can’t be bothered with — the suit colors for the groomsmen (navy blue), the invitation stationary (the linen finish), and favors (miniature bottles of hot sauce - Joel assures you this will be a hit with the Texas crowd). In between those conversations, he sends you pictures from his construction sites or asks you how your day has been and whether you had gotten the chance to check out that show he recommended.

When you tell Alex about the wedding decisions you've made, leaving out the extent of Joel's help, he hums and nods at the appropriate intervals, feigning attentiveness while his thumb moves rapidly across his phone screen. It should bother you, you think, that your future husband is so uninvolved with planning his own wedding, but then your own phone lights up with Joel’s name and a goofy photo he sent from a construction site, his hard hat askew on his head and his eyes crossed, and your annoyance with Alex fades into background noise.

There’s one last item on your checklist that you’re more nervous to ask Joel for help with than the others — dress shopping. You could probably fly back to New York and be with your friends for the momentous occasion but you’re certain that Alex wouldn’t appreciate your absence for something he considers so frivolous.

Not that you say anything when he’s gone for his golfing trips.

You’re staring at Joel’s contact screen, working up the nerve to call him and ask him if he’d be willing to come dress shopping with you, when it lights up with an incoming call, his name at the top of the screen like just your thoughts summoned him. You answer on the third ring.

“Hey, I was just about to call you,” you tell him.

“So that’s why my ears were itchin’,” he laughs. “You need somethin’?”

You take a steadying breath. “I just have one more thing I need help with and then you won’t have to deal with me.”

“I don’t mind helpin’ you, sweetheart.” You stomach flutters at the nickname and he clears his throat to fill the loaded silence that follows his words. “Now, tell me what you need.”

“Could you come dress shopping with me?”

“That all? Just tell me where and when,” he says. You breathe a sigh of relief, giving him the details of the appointment you made at a local boutique. He promises to meet you there this weekend before hanging up.

The word sweetheart in Joel’s deep voice echoes through your mind for the rest of the day.

Joel looks hilariously out of place on the pristine white couch located in the middle of the dress boutique, a dainty glass of champagne held in his large hand. You sit beside him, your legs touching as you watch the sales associate flit around the store, pulling hangers of dresses from the racks.

“That’s a lot of dresses,” Joel comments, taking a sip of champagne.

“You not up for the challenge?” You tease. He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his wide smile.

“Trust me, I’m up for the challenge. We’re goin’ to find you the best damn weddin’ dress Texas has ever seen,” he promises.

“Alright, I’ve got some gorgeous choices here for you,” the associate announces, holding up a handful of ivory hangers draped in all types of fabric from satin to chiffon. “You wanna follow me and we’ll get started?”

You follow her to the fitting room and she sets the hangers on a rack, fanning out the dresses so that you can get a better look. There’s five of them in a variety of styles, including an impressive ball gown boasting layers of tulle that trails to the floor.

“I’ll try that one first,” you tell her, pointing to ball gown.

“What’s your fiancé’s name?” She asks as you undress, taking the gown from the hanger and arranging it on the floor for you to step into it.

“Alex,” you reply. She drags the bodice up and instructs you to hold it to your chest while she laces up the corset back.

“I think it’s sweet that you’ve brought him with you.”

“Oh, no. That’s Joel, he’s my husband’s best friend.”

“Really?” She asks, the strings tightening around your waist. “The way you two look at each other, I would have bet money he was the one marrying you." You're about to ask what she means when she finishes tying off the bodice and says, "Wow, this dress is stunning on you."

Her comment retreats to the back of your mind as you look at yourself in the mirror. The strapless white gown hugs your chest and waist, flaring out into a layered skirt with lace appliques. There's beading on the sweetheart neckline that trails down the bodice in intricate patterns that catch the light of the fitting room. The dress is stunning.

Marnie leads you back out to the showroom, helping you step up onto a raised platform in front of a trifold mirror that shows you your reflection from multiple angles. You twist and turn, taking in all the details of it before finally facing Joel.

"Damn," Joel says. "That sure is one hell of a dress."

"It's...a lot." You twist your hips from side to side, the heavy skirt swishing across the floor. "I feel like a cupcake and I don't know if I'll be able to dance in it."

"You wanna test it out?"

He's standing before you can respond, reaching a hand into yours to guide you down from the pedestal. When you're on the floor, he wraps an arm around your low back, pulling you close while swaying side to side.

The world around you goes a little blurry and the only thing in perfect clarity is Joel. The feel of his hand in yours, the weight of his arm at the small of your back, the clean smell of soap and citrus, everything is just....Joel.

"How's it feel?" He asks, voice low. You tilt your head back to look up at his face.

"Huh?"

"The dress...dancin'...how's it feel?"

The question drags you back to reality, where you're currently dancing around a bridal salon with a man who isn't your fiance. You pull away from him, returning to the pedestal as the bridal associate joins the two of you again.

"Uh...I don't think this is the dress for me. Can we try the next one?"

You try on two other dresses in quick succession, neither of them leaving a lasting impression. It's the fourth dress that really gives you pause as you look at yourself in the fitting room mirror.

"Honey," the associate says, adjusting the off-the-shoulder sleeves of the dress, "This dress was made for you."

The scooped neckline highlights the lines and curves of your neck and shoulders, the corset bodice hugging your curves in satin folds. The skirt fans out from the waist, similar to the silhouette of the ball gown without all the additional weight and fabric and a thigh high slit allows for some extra movement.

She leads you back out into the showroom and helps you once more onto the pedestal. You grin at your reflection as she fixes the skirt into place.

"Well?" You ask, catching Joel's eye in the mirror. His mouth is set in a serious line, brows pinched together and his arms crossed over his chest. You own smile falters. "You don't like it? What's with the look?"

He shakes his head, his serious expression morphing into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "You look..." His voice trails off and he clears his throat. "Alex is a lucky son of a bitch."

You laugh, lifting the skirt so that you can step off the pedestal. Joel's eyes drop, his gaze fixing on the skirt as you walk towards him.

"You think so?" You ask quietly, stepping in close.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he murmurs. A single finger runs down your arm, goosebumps erupting over your skin in its wake. "I know so."

With the wedding plans finalized, your attention returns to your work as a web design consultant. Your client portfolio starts to build once more, keeping you busy in the months leading up to your big day. Alex remains focused on his work at the firm, working long days and longer nights that have him arriving home well after you've gone to bed, the two of you just ships passing in the dark. You would feel lonely, you think, if not for Joel.

The two of you still message each other frequently, though you don't see him again until a month before the wedding, when Alex invites him over for dinner one Saturday night.

The doorbell rings just as you put the chicken in the oven and you wipe your hands before going to answer it, your heart racing. Joel's sweet smile greets you when you open the door and seeing him across the threshold has the tension in your shoulders easing the slightest bit.

He steps across the threshold, strong arms wrapping around your waist in a tight hug. Footsteps on the stairs have him releasing you far sooner than you would have liked.

"Joel, my man! Glad you could make it," Alex says as he reaches the first floor. "Honey, is the table set?"

"No, not yet," you reply.

"You need any help?" Joel asks. You open your mouth to respond, but Alex jumps in to say, "No, she's got this. Let me give you the tour."

You watch as Alex leads Joel upstairs, commanding his friend's attention. You swallow down the anger that rises in your throat at your fiancé's dismissal and return to the kitchen, gathering the place settings and arranging the table to his liking.

"It's a nice place," Joel says as the two men enter the living room, which opens to the kitchen and dining areas.

"All that work finally paying off," Alex comments. You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to mention that you were the one who fronted the down payment for Alex's choice of home in Texas. The oven beeps and you pull out the chicken parmesan that had been baking.

"Smells good," Joel comments. You look up, catching his eye. A wordless understanding passes between you, a quiet appreciation that makes your blood run hot.

You plate the food while your fiancé uncorks a bottle of wine and pours it into the wine glasses at each place setting. Alex settles in at head of the table and Joel takes the seat to the left, leaving you with the seat to Alex's right, across from Joel.

The three of you make small talk between bites of dinner and sips of wine. Alex asks Joel about the contracting work he's been doing, Joel asks him about his work at the new office and how he's settling in, being back in his home state. It's halfway through dinner that Joel looks to you and asks, "Are you excited for the wedding next month?"

"Of course," you reply, fingers tangling in the cloth napkin resting across your lap. "Planning it was a labor of love."

"Right, thanks for helping her with the cake, man," Alex chimes in.

Joel chuckles. "Helped with a lot more than just the cake."

"What do you mean?" Alex asks, glancing between the two of you.

"Well, I helped get the flowers, the cake, pickin' out the stationary. Dress shoppin'," Joel clarifies. Your stomach drops as Alex's jaw grows tense, his brow pinched as he nods and pastes on a forced smile.

"Wow, I didn't realize you'd been so involved," Alex says. He removes the napkin from his lap, setting it on the table. "Would you excuse us for a second?"

Alex stands, looking down at you expectantly. You smile at him and Joel in turn, but the expression feels hollow and you taste bile in the back of your throat. As soon as you're on your feet, Alex has a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, urging you along behind him as he makes his way towards the stairs.

Once he's reached your shared bedroom, he turns to you, eyes filled with rage. “What the fuck is that about?”

“What do you mean?” You ask. He laughs, the sound devoid of any humor.

“He helped you pick out your dress?” Alex paces the length of the bedroom like a caged animal and for the first time in your relationship with him, a frisson of fear courses through your veins. “You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid?”

“Excuse me?” You snap. “You told me to ask him for his help!”

“With the cake!” Alex shouts. “Not the entire goddamn wedding! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

“You weren’t exactly offering much help, Alex!”

His eyes narrow. “I thought you would be perfectly capable of planning shit on your own, but I guess that was giving you too much credit.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask. “Why are you being such a fucking asshole right now?”

“Because you’re my fiancé, not Joel’s!” He steps in close, towering above you as he hisses, “Did you fuck him?”

“No!” You shout.

His eyes search yours and whatever he finds seems to extinguish his anger, his coiled muscles loosening. He grips your shoulders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Why don’t you head back downstairs and I’ll stay up here for a minute to cool off, okay?”

The sudden switch leaves your head spinning but you manage to nod. Alex kisses your forehead and you take that as your cue to leave, escaping the confines of your room. In the hall, you grip the banister of the loft that overlooks the living room and take the first real breath in what feels like ages, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to calm your racing heart.

You return to the kitchen and Joel’s head snaps up when you enter. He rises from his seat at the table, rushing to your side.

“Are you okay?” He asks, low voice filled with concern, his brows pinched with worry. “What the fuck was that?”

“Just a misunderstanding,” you murmur, pushing past him.

“That’s bullshit,” he hisses. “Is he always like that?”

“Like what?” You sigh.

“An asshole. Yellin’ and threatenin’ you.” His fists are clenched at his sides. “He ever hit you?”

“What? No, of course not.” You take a deep breath, beating back the wave of tears pressing at the corners of your eyes. “He’s just got a lot going on with the move and work and the wedding.”

Joel is quiet, watching you with keen brown eyes that you, for once, wish weren’t focused on you. He steps close, voice low as he says, “Be honest with me, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine, Joel,” you tell him. The lie claws at your throat and sends your stomach into a tailspin. “I promise.”

Footsteps echo on the stairs and you step away from Joel, busying yourself with loading the dishwasher, clearing the counters, anything to keep your hands occupied and stop their shaking. Alex enters the kitchen with a sharp smile.

“Hey, man, sorry about that,” he says, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “I think we’re ready to call it a night. Ain’t that right, honey?”

You force yourself to keep your eyes on Alex as you smile and say, “Yeah, baby.”

“Let me walk you out, Joel,” Alex says. “Honey, say bye.”

“Goodbye, Joel.”

Joel: Hey

Joel: You having a good week?

Joel: Been a while. You doing okay?

Joel: You’ve been quiet

Joel: I need to know you’re okay.

Joel: Just let me know

Joel: Please

“Just two more days until you’re my wife,” Alex says, pressing a kiss to your lips. He smiles at you and you mirror the expression as best you can.

“I can't wait,” you reply.

"I gotta get going," Alex says. He presses a kiss to your cheek as he passes where you're sitting at the bar. "Love you."

"Love you," you repeat, out of reflex more than affection.

The front door slams shut and quiet settles over the house. All you want to do is crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head in the hopes that it protects you from the way time continues to creep forward despite your uncertainties. Maybe, if you lay there long enough, time will move on without your involvement.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a heavy knock at the door. You’re not sure who it could be — your dad is scheduled to fly into town in the late afternoon and your friends arrive early tomorrow morning and you’re fairly certain you don’t have any deliveries scheduled. Sliding from the bar stool, you leave the kitchen to answer the door.

Joel stands on the other side of the threshold, haloed by the morning sun. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’re dreaming.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask.

“Can I come in?” He replies, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I need to talk to you.”

You step aside and allow him to enter the hallway, shutting the door behind him. You avoid his gaze as you return to the living room with him following behind you. The silence that settles between the two of you makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

"Why haven't you been talkin' to me?" Joel asks. He takes a step closer, brown eyes searching yours for an answer you try to keep hidden.

"I've been busy," you say.

"Cut the bullshit," he snaps, surprising you. "Is it because of what happened at dinner?"

"No," you reply. Joel must sense the brief hesitation, hear the weakness in your voice. His eyes go soft, full of pity, and you can't fucking stand it. "Don't look at me like that."

"Look, I've known Alex a long time, and all those years weren't exactly peachy," he says cryptically. "I love him like a brother but even family ain't without faults.” He steps in close, his hands cradling your face in a delicate grip. “Tell me this is what you want," he demands. "Tell me that you're happy with Alex. Tell me that there's nothin' here between us."

The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue, but nothing can bring them to life. Your heart beats a frantic rhythm against your ribcage, the rush of blood in your ears the only thing you can hear. He leans closer, eyes dropping to your lips and you know what's about to happen next but you can't bear the thought of stopping him as he closes the scant distance between your mouths.

For the briefest moment, you allow yourself the chance to just feel. No thoughts, no panic, no worry. Just Joel's warm lips moving against yours, the trace of his palm from you cheek to behind your head, pulling you closer even though you're already tightly pressed to him. It's slow and deep, like he's trying to convince you down to your marrow that this is where you're supposed to be.

But it's not.

You push him away and he doesn't fight you, but the look he gives you damn near shatters your resolve. His eyes are dark, jaw tense, hands flexing at his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach out and pull you back, damn the consequences. Your eyes and throat burn with the effort of holding back the tears that threaten to spill.

"You need to leave," you whisper. "You can't do this, we can't do this. I'm getting married in two days, Joel!"

He runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the strands in frustration. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't lay awake at night thinkin' what a fuckin' asshole I am for fallin' in love with my best friend's fiancé?!" He shouts.

"This isn't love, Joel--"

"Don't," he snaps. "Don't you lie to me. I know it, you know it, hell, the fuckin' lady at the dress shop knew it!" He takes a deep breath. "I'm showin' you my whole hand here and you won't even lay down a goddamn card!"

"There is no card!" You shout.

"You kissed me back!" He counters.

You stare at each other for a long moment, like two scared, wounded animals. Eventually, one of you has to back down, retreat, lick their wounds until they've healed in a messy pattern of scar tissue that will serve as a painful reminder of what could have been.

Joel sighs, another pass of his hand through his hair as he says, "You know what? Fine." He turns to leave, the line of his shoulder lower, his head low.

A glutton for punishment, you call out, "Joel?"

"Yeah?" He asks, weary. Bone tired. You feel it, too.

"Will you still be there tomorrow?" You ask, unsure of which answer would be worse.

Another sigh. "Yeah. I'll be there."

The door slams shut behind him.

Your rehearsal dinner is torture.

This should be one of the happiest events of your life but all your energy is being directed at avoiding Joel like the plague. He moves through the crowd comfortably, having known many people in attendance for most of his life, and you feel like an unmoored boat, hoping a wave doesn't crash over you.

Alex sits beside you, drinking from a glass of whiskey as he talks to one of his uncles that has been praising him for landing the opportunity to work with such a prestigious law firm right after college. A dizzying rotation of people approach you through the night - friends who chatter excitedly about the big day tomorrow, aunts who ask when you think you'll have children, uncles who tell you that they're proud of you for landing such a successful, promising young man. It's those last comments that have you hiding a frown in your champagne glass.

It drags on forever, this constant stream of polite conversation and forced smiles. When you finally return to the hotel that you're staying at for the night, you start to feel like you can breathe again. You have a suite separate from Alex's for getting ready early in the morning and he walks you to your room, hand on your low back, a smile on his face.

"I'll see you in the morning," he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "My almost wife."

The sentiment has bile rising in your throat and as he turns to leave you're blurting the words, "I can't do this."

"Sweetheart, you're just nervous," he says, voice surprisingly calm. He squeezes your shoulders. "You just need to sleep it off and everything will be fine in the morning."

"No," you tell him, shaking your head. "No, it won't be fine."

His smile drops, like a mask has just been removed. "Where is this coming from? Everything was fine at the rehearsal."

"Everything was not fine at the rehearsal!"

Alex takes the room key from your hands, unlocked the door and ushering you inside. He flicks on the light to the sitting area and takes a seat on the couch.

"What's going on with you?" He asks, exasperation dripping from his words. "What do you mean the rehearsal wasn't fine? Did you not like the food or something?"

You stare at him incredulously. "The problem wasn't the food, Alex! The problem is us!"

"There's no problem with us," he says. "Unless there's something you want to tell me?"

"What do you mean?" You ask.

He stands, coming close. "Is this about Joel?"

"No!" You snap, perhaps too quickly. "This isn't about Joel."

"Then what is it? Because as far as I know, we're a perfectly happy couple."

"Perfectly happy? Alex, you didn't even help me plan this wedding. Not a single minute of it."

"Not this again," he groans. "Sweetheart, let it go. I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you need to hear?"

Your jaw aches with how hard your teeth grind together as he dismisses you so easily. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth steadies you enough to say, "I'm not marrying you."

"Baby, please," Alex says. For the first time, he sounds panicked. "Don't make any rash decisions, alright? Whatever this is, we can work through it. If I lose you, I lose everything."

Maybe he's right. Maybe the stress of the last few months has just caught up to you.

"Okay," you whisper. He breathes a sigh of relief and presses another kiss to your temple.

"I love you," he says. "Everything will be okay after tomorrow. You'll see."

You don't say anything back, and he doesn't wait around for a response. He leaves your suite, the click of the door shutting loud in the late night silence. You stand there for who knows how long, wondering if he's right. Would everything be alright after tomorrow? Could you sweep those lingering feelings for Joel to the side in favor of the life you'd been building for the last few years?

You know what the safe choice is, but is it the right choice?

It's the morning of your wedding day and you've been poked and prodded with makeup brushes and your hair has been perfectly styled for the occasion. Flashbulbs have been going off on the cameras that are documenting your special day, capturing moments like your bridesmaids helping you into your dress and your dad's first look, a handkerchief clutched in his hand as he smiled at you.

For the first time in hours, you're alone in your suite. The makeup artist and hair stylists have packed up and taken their leave and your friends are downstairs, waiting for the limousine. You told them you would be just a minute longer.

A soft knock at your door has you realizing that you may have taken too long and you shout an apology as you rush to answer it. But it's not one of your friends on the other side like you had expected.

It's Joel.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. His hair is styled, curls smoothed and slicked back into submission. His white shirt is a stark contrast to his navy blue tuxedo, matching bow tie tight around his neck. His boutonnière is slightly crooked where it sits pinned to his jacket lapel. He looks you up and down with a small smile.

"You look beautiful," he says. He reaches for your hand, fingers tangling with yours. Never quite folding together, but never quite letting go, either.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"Are you ready?" He asks. You wonder if he knows, if Alex told him or if he can just see it on your face.

"Yes."

It's a lie, one you've been repeating since your alarm went off this morning after a night of tossing and turning. His smile falters, but doesn't drop.

"Good, that's....good," he says. His hand leaves yours, and you feel like you've had an entire unspoken conversation that's left you both defeated. "Lets go get you married."

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

divider graphic by @saradika-graphics.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

wassup man. hey i got a requestion. Could you write a Regina Georgee fic where she andd NB!Reader are in a secret relationship but Y/N is dysphoric, and regina reassures them she won't leave them for someone else? Lots of praise, physical touch for comfort (smut only if ur comfy!! xx) + regina wears Y/N's letterman jacket to hard launch at school the next day so everyone knows her ass is owned by Y/N? If you do make it smut, bottom!regina would be great with whimpering and begging Thanksssssssssssssss

You're Beautiful ||

|| Regina George x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings: minors don't interact, first time posting smut (just a small amount, isn't the main focus and doesn't go overly detailed; does skip through some of it), body dysphoria and description of how it feels, reader being upset, some swearing, regina comforting reader which means somewhat out of character regina, bottom!regina, top!reader

|| Summary: Reader struggles with body dysphoria, Regina assures the reader they're beautiful which leads to reader showing Regina they're thankful for her... the next day, Regina shows the school who owns them.

Requests open!

Started: May 2nd

Finished: May 10th

~~~

This week has been absolutely awful, mental health wise. Everything else was about the same. Which you were grateful for, you really didn't need any extra stress from school drama or assignments.

You had stayed the night at Regina's place, having decided to have a cozy Thursday night in with your girlfriend instead of attending the usual parties and such. You ordered take out and watched a movie. Regina's always had this certain image about her, but behind closed doors? When it was just the two of you? She could be so uncharacteristically soft. The first time it happened you had to do a double take and stare at her; wondering if that was really your girlfriend or if she had a twin you didn't know about.

Speaking of her being your girlfriend. Nobody knew about the two of you. You were considered an outcast for your gender identity, the only ones in the school that didn't judge you (besides your girlfriend) were Janis and Damien. They were pretty much your best friends because of it. And only friends...

You were currently getting changed in the bathroom; something you usually did, much to Regina's annoyance. She would always tell you you could change in front of her, that she didn't mind and in fact insisted that you did this. It's not like she hasn't seen you like that before anyway. But you always made up some excuse for why you couldn't and then scrambled off to the bathroom before she could stop you.

Today had been no different.

When you finally got out, Regina turned and looked at you. Eyes scanning your body. Instinctively your arms went to your stomach and you took a step back. Trying to avoid her gaze. You hadn't changed into anything different, just your regular set of pyjamas. Despite that you couldn't help feeling self conscious about your body. It wasn't what you wanted. Some days, you managed... others? Others were harder. You wished certain body parts could just be detachable. Well, they were with the right surgery but you didn't have that kind of money and you sure as hell weren't about to ask Regina.

When you backed away from her, she raised an eyebrow and took a couple steps closer until her hands gripped your waist and pulled you in flush against her.

"Where do you think you're going?" She smirked at you, hand trailing up your side. Sending a shiver down your spine as you bit your bottom lip in response.

"I..." You take a breath, gathering your thoughts. Do you tell her about your insecurities? "Not today, Regina. Please." You voice was barely above a whisper, feeling vulnerable in the moment.

She looked almost offended for a brief second but her features softened as she looked into your eyes, trying to get a good read on how you were feeling. She could see your vulnerability and it all clicked in place.

She sighed deeply and grabbed your hand, pulling you over to the bed as she made you sit down before straddling your lap and looking into your eyes. Her hand rested under your chin.

"You are fucking beautiful." Regina whispered, giving your jawline a kiss." So damn handsome."

"Regina- that's not-" You stuttered out, though whatever you were going to say died in your throat as she kissed your jawline. Your hands instinctively went to wrap around her waist to keep her in your lap.

"What? That's not true?" Regina's eyes met yours again and you shook your head. That wasn't what you were going to say.

"That's not what I meant. I can't stand my body, it makes me feel sick just thinking about it. This isn't who I am in my head and it hurts. How can you be with someone like me? Someone who can't even accept their own body?" You admitted out loud how you really felt, it felt good haven't it out but it hurt talking about it. Tears brimmed your eyes.

Regina frowned as she listened to you, she knew being nonbinary was hard for you. She knew you were hurting. She never realized just how much.

"Because I love your body. I love your mind. I love you. Alright? I'm not going to fucking leave you for someone else, you have what I want even if you can't see it for yourself. You're beautiful." Regina replied, her hands trailing along your sides as she speaks; making you shiver under her touches.

"Alright?" She asked again, her lips now brushing against your neck. You tilt your head to the side almost instinctively, allowing for her to have easier access as she kisses your neck. Sucking on the skin until a mark is left behind. Her finger gently touch it, making you shudder as she laughs a little. You were so easy. Every little thing she did had an effect on you.

"Mm..." You tried talking, but it came out as a soft hum instead of the 'okay' you had tried to say. Your mind wasn't fully settled, Regina could tell just looking into your eyes.

"You're beautiful. My handsome partner." Regina whispered into your ear, making you blush. You could tell what she was doing, giving praise to lessen your thoughts. You appreciated her for it.

You nodded slowly, taking in her words and allowing them to sink into your mind. Even if they were hard to accept.

"Better?" She asked, her hand now resting below your neck as her fingers just barely graze against it.

"Better... thank you." You mumbled, letting your eyes close as you melted under her touch.

"That's not a real thank you. Show me just how much you appreciate me." She whispered into your ear again, you blushed a deeper shade of red as you read between the lines of what Regina really meant.

She looked at you expectantly, you rolled your eyes but that didn't hide the smile (or blush) on your cheeks.

Regina smirked when she saw it and laid back in bed, head rested on the pillow as she grabbed you by your arms and pulled you on top of her.

You easily followed, laying your body down on hers as you began giving her neck soft kisses. Her head tilted to the side in response, eyes closed as she melted into the feeling.

Regina wouldn't call herself submissive, she wasn't submitting to you. She was more of a pillow princess, she wanted her body to be worshipped by you. Treated like a Goddess.

Your soft kisses became harder as you sucked on her skin, leaving that oh so familiar mark. Matching the one Regina had given you just moments before. You heard a soft whimper escape Regina's lips, so you kept going. Getting more of that sound from her. You made sure to start slow so you could worship her body the way she had wanted; and show her just how thankful you were. You'd spend the whole night treating her if you could.

"More... please." Regina almost begged, her tone sounding desperate. Part of her wanted you to just skip the worshipping and get right into the hard stuff, the other part of her wanted to be worshipped and praised. She felt torn.

"Hm? What's that, baby?" You smirked against her neck, looking up for a brief moment to lock eyes with hers. God, you loved being able to make her this desperate.

Regina gritted her teeth, trying to keep herself from begging for it but she knew you wouldn't give her what she wanted if she didn't.

"Fuck you." She cursed, you held back a laugh. You knew she was just frustrated with how you were doing this.

"Keep talking like that and I'll just stop all together." You whispered in her ear, sending a shiver through her body." Go on, beg me."

Regina's eyes closed again as she kept her mouth shut, when she felt you start to pull away and get up... she grabbed you and held you in place on top of her.

"Don't stop."

You smirked, knowing you had her exactly where you wanted her. You gave her throat a kiss and continued on with what you had been doing before... only you upped it a notch like Regina had asked for.

~~~

The next morning, you had woken up sore as you took your spare clothes and went to change in the bathroom like you normally did. Regina had felt you getting out of bed and started to stir, sitting up and rubbing one of her eyes.

Her eyes narrow when she sees you heading to the bathroom with your clothes.

"Y/N." Regina spoke up, her tone a mixture of stern and tired with sleep.

You stopped in your tracks, hand on the door frame as you looked back at your girlfriend and tilted your head in confusion.

"Yeah?"

"Get your ass over here." Regina demands, you sigh and listen. Going to her bedside. She grabs you by your waist and suddenly pulls you into her lap, making you gasp at the sudden action.

"Regina-"

She cuts you off with a kiss, making you quickly shut up and melt into her body.

Regina parts the kiss and stares into your eyes, hand gripping your chin to make sure you had your full attention on her.

"You're changing out here. Repeat what I told you yesterday." Her tone was stern, but it didn't come from a place of meanness like it usually does for everyone else. She was always a little softer on you.

"You told me a lot of things yesterday," You gave a teasing response back, you knew what Regina wanted you to say. You wanted to see how much you could get away with.

She rolled her eyes, her grip tightening around your chin just slightly." Don't be a smartass."

"Fine... I'm beautiful." You muttered, she could tell by how you said it you didn't mean it.

"Y/N." Her tone remained the same.

"I'm beautiful." You repeat, Regina kissed your cheek and let go of your chin.

"Damn right you are. Now get dressed. Where's your jacket?" She added, looking around her room for a brief moment to see if she could spot it.

You looked at her in confusion. Your jacket?

"My letterman jacket?" You asked, wondering why the hell Regina would want it.

"Yeah. Where'd you put it?"

"Um... I think it's on the couch downstairs. Why?"

Regina rolled her eyes, getting out of bed. There was a slight shake in her legs which made you smirk, feeling pretty damn proud of yourself because you knew she was still effected by the night before.

"I'm wearing it. Obviously."

"To school?" Your eyes widened a little, that jacket had your last name on it. Was she seriously about to reveal your relationship?

"No, to a funeral. Yes, dumbass." Regina narrowed her eyes, annoyed with the amount of questions you were asking though she couldn't help feeling a little amused when she saw your reaction. She was planning on hard launching your relationship. She wanted people to know she was taken by you. She wanted it to be the talk of the school. She knew exactly what she was doing with this.

And sure enough, everyone at school knew Regina belonged to you and that you belonged to her. When they saw her in your jacket it started so many rumours and for the first time in your entire highschool life... nobody bothered you. They didn't want to risk the wrath of Regina George.

[loves4ge]

Hello, could you possibly write a Megumi x reader fic (or could be gojo x reader, idk, as you prefer), but the reader, in terms of personality and behaviour, is a bit like Megumi? Like rather quiet, serious and reserved, and has trouble expressing their emotions? And could the characters just be asexual please ? Anyway, I really like your work, it's always great and fun! Hope you have a nice day

"are you sure about this? you know it's bad luck." your mother says, worryingly. it's sweet how she cares but you don't believe in omens like those. these superstitions would get in the way of your comfort. megumi doesn't mind though. and neither do you.

"i'm sure. plenty of couples do private first looks. it'll make us feel better, alright? now, which room did you say he's in?" your mother sighs, a frown still etched on her face. still, she relents and points to a closed, brown door down the end of the hallway.

you kiss her cheek, smooth her eyebrows to erase the frown. you poke the corner of her lips to get to her to smile, turn and start moving.

you feel your heart growing heavier, nerves rattling as you try to calm your breathing. you don't think it's working. you're at the door too quick. would it be weird if you circled the area a couple of times before you came back? probably.

you raise your hand to knock, your knuckles softly knocking against the hard wood twice. there's a muffled "come in" and you twist the doorknob, swallowing your spit and hope your fears went down as well.

you open the door to see megumi turned around, with his back towards you. ah, his suit is a grey charcoal because you were adamant on him not wearing black.

his hair is styled perfectly even from the back and the emotions overwhelm you. though you're sure it doesn't translate across your face; you've always had a little bit of a poker face, almost always unintentionally.

"you can turn now," your voice is soft, steady as you stand behind him, hands clasping rosy-hued flowers. his turn is slow, dramatically so, until his gaze fixes on you.

for a minute, there's silence. you look into his eyes and he looks back. there's not a lot you can say. you want to, but it doesn't come out. you've never been very good at this affirmation thing.

but it's easier with megumi. it always is. he knows you; the thought brings a smile to your face and you set the bouquet on a nearby table.

"you're so gorgeous," he whispers, though his hands stay by his sides and you don't rush to hug him. it's nice to stare at him like this.

"i can't believe i'm going to be upstaged by the groom." he believes this to be wholly untrue, smiling at your words. you wish you could articulate the feeling you have right now.

you feel like you're fifteen again, seeing him for the first time when he did his hair spikier than what he does now. god, you loved his eyes, and they're staring at you right now, swirling with nothing but love and admiration.

your sentences are caught up in your throat, and your voice is scratchy. instead, you step closer, take his palm in your hands. tracing the lines; love, fate, career. you turn his hand gently, and bring it up to your mouth, softly brushing a kiss against his knuckles.

he warms. straightens his back. his free hand snakes across your waist to the small of your back and he pulls you close. the sudden movement makes you jump, dropping his hand.

he touches your forehead with his own; you're both warm.

"i know." you want to ask what he knows but you already know.

i love you. i would break the sun and the moon and the stars for you. i would cross an ocean, climb a mountain, venture a forest for you. my heart, my soul, my love. you are the reason i breathe, the reason i live, the reason i love.

[violetvines]

wedding bells are ringing 🔔

summary: it's the day of libby and nash's wedding. libby is getting ready in her room, feeling nervous about walking down the aisle, pre-wedding jitters and all. she hears a knock at her door, and the last person she's expecting is standing on the other side... alisa ortega.

characters: libby grambs, alisa ortega, nash hawthorne

a/n: my first fic! I hope I represented them nicely <3

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

One. Two. Three. Four...

Libby counted her breaths in her head, steadying their rhythm, even if she couldn't seem to steady her erratic heart.

Today was the day. The kind of day she had carelessly dreamt about when she had been a girl. The kind of day she hadn't dared to even think about in recent years, because she didn't believe it would ever happen. She didn't believe this day would ever come.

She was getting married today. She was having a wedding.

It was funny, really, because just the night earlier, she had been laying in bed with Nash, and they had talked about the surreality of the situation. Or, as Nash would put it, a situation that was surreal to her, but very real and very true to him.

"What if it's not everything you dreamed it would be?" She had blurted that out almost immediately after Nash had rebuked her "surreal" statement.

He had proceeded to stare at her in the darkness, fingers still stroking her dark blue hair. "Libs..." he began, "no dream of mine is worth anythin' if you ain't in it."

"You are everything I could ever dream of."

"But-"

"Shhh," he shushed her, "I know what you're going to say. You're going to say that you're afraid because tomorrow, your last name becomes Hawthorne. You're going to say that you're worried you won't be able to live up to that name, and that you'll mess up and somehow cause the whole world to come crashing down."

"But you need to understand this. Tomorrow, I will no longer be just a man – I will be your husband, your sworn protector. And I will be there with you every step of the way to hold your hand. You will not mess up, and the world will not come crashing down, because I will be there. And if you're still doubting it, still thinking that something will go wrong, I will shield you from all their hurtful words and condescending stares."

Libby knew that when Nash pronounced his g's, he was being serious.

"You always think that you make a mess everywhere you go, but I need you to know that you turned my life from a mess to a blessing."

He had then kissed her forehead and she'd remained silent, tears forming in her eyes.

Libby sighed at the memory. Nash had such a way with his words. He always knew what she needed to hear, how to comfort her and be there for her.

She had fallen asleep shortly after that. Still, no amount of talking could change the fact that it was real and it was happening.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

"That must be Avery," she thought. Her sister had gone off to meet with the other three Hawthorne brothers, presumably in Nash's room. She hadn't seen him since morning and he wasn't allowed to see her in her dress until the altar. Avery was probably back now, so she was ready to bombard her with questions... if she could get her nerves to calm down.

Libby looked in the long mirror, smoothing down the front of her wedding gown. It was black, matching the glossy dark blue and black colour on her nails. She liked it. The makeup artist had done a great job too, and she felt like a queen. (As she should.)

"Come in!" she called, while opening the door.

The figure outside her door made her freeze. It was Alisa Ortega, better known as her sister's lawyer or her soon-to-be husband's ex-girlfriend.

She and Alisa hadn't always been on good terms, and honestly, she could understand it. Who would want to be friends with their ex's new significant other?

"Nash Hawthorne has never loved anything he didn't leave."

Alisa's words from the past echoed in her ears. Libby curled her fingers into fists. She didn't have time for backhanded remarks or snide comments right now. She needed to calm down because soon, it would be time to walk down the aisle.

Alisa was dressed formally, as if she had just finished a meeting at the law firm. She had an eyebrow raised. Great. "Are you going to invite me in or...?"

Libby stepped aside to let her in, not saying anything just yet. She took another deep breath.

"Look, Alisa, if you're here to talk to me about keeping up appearances later, I got it. I've been going through my vows everyday for the past week - I won't forget them. I've been practising my walk down the aisle with these killer shoes too - I won't fall. Don't you worry, I won't embarrass anyone. Not Avery, not the Hawthornes, not the family's reputation."

Libby hadn't realised that she was panting heavily.

"Oh, and also, please don't make a comment on my unconventional wedding dress. I know you don't approve, but here I am anyway." She spread her arms, displaying herself.

Alisa looked at her carefully. What she said next surprised Libby, and she almost pinched herself awake.

"You look beautiful, Libby."

"Wait... what?"

Alisa sighed. "I said that you look beautiful." She said it so matter-of-factly, like Alisa Ortega was someone who usually dished out compliments like that.

This wasn't the Alisa that Libby knew.

"You can get to it, you know. You can tell me what you came here for."

At that, Alisa gestured for Libby to have a seat.

"I came here to give you something," she began, but paused as Libby snorted.

"By something, do you mean... an NDA? After I marry Nash, I'm practically Hawthorne and I'll know all their secrets." She said, lightheartedly.

How was she joking around with Alisa minutes before her wedding? Then again, it was possible. Alisa didn't like to joke.

Libby waited for a cutting remark, but none came. Alisa only grimaced. Grimaced? Since when did Alisa Ortega grimace?

Why was Alisa acting so weird today? As far as Libby knew, Alisa was over Nash... unless... she wasn't, so that's why she was acting this way. She habitually brought her fingers to her mouth. When she was nervous, she bit her nails.

She didn't manage to do so, because Alisa gently set her hands down. "Hey... we don't want you ruining your nails before the wedding."

"Here, take this." Alisa reached into her pocket and procured a small box, one that could fit in the palm of her hand. Noticing Libby's curiosity, she explained.

"It's a small music box. I thrifted it from somewhere, and I thought you'd like it. The designs at the sides of it are very... gothic." That last word sounded like it troubled her to say it.

Libby laughed with disbelief. "Alisa... you mean to say that you got me a wedding gift?" Her giggling died down, as she was suddenly overcome by an unexplainable feeling. Gratitude? Shock? Wonder? All three?

Alisa shrugged. "It would be rude to attend the wedding without bringing a gift." At that, Libby's mouth fell open. She hadn't thought that Alisa would even set aside time to attend her wedding.

Alisa didn't let her deal with the shock for more than three seconds. "Go ahead and open it."

She did. Her fingers trembled as she wound up the crank.

The first notes played and she immediately noticed that it wasn't just any music. It was wedding music.

"Here Comes The Bride" was playing and the tinkling notes filled the room. As Libby watched, the room shined with a sort of ethereal glow. The music faded, and she turned to watch as Alisa stared at her wistfully.

She could have sworn there was a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Thank– thank you." Libby stuttered, because what else could she say? None of this had been expected.

She now expected Alisa to leave but that didn't happen either. "I also wanted to say that I'm happy for you. Truly."

"Everything you said just now made me realise that I haven't been the best person to you, and for that," she took a deep breath, "I'm sorry."

Here was Alisa Ortega opening up. Here was Alisa Ortega apologising to her. Alisa Ortega was apologising to Libby Grambs.

"I wish you and Nash a happy marriage." Libby sat there in silence, still processing her words.

Alisa looked at her wristwatch and caught herself then. "I should be going now. Before things get out of hand down there."

She was at the door when she turned around and said, "you don't have to forgive me. Having you around wasn't the worst, you know? You made life at Hawthorne House happier – I can see it in their faces. When Nash talks about you, he has a sparkle in his eyes, something that was lost long ago. Xander loves your baked goods and I see him popping his head in the kitchen every evening, with hopes that you're there, baking something. Even Grayson and Jameson love having you here."

"You're not an embarrassment, Libby Grambs. You are everything they never knew they needed."

"You're a wonderful sister. And I'm sure you will also make a wonderful wife."

With that, Alisa stepped out of the room, not leaving space for Libby to reply. She didn't need to turn around to know that at that second, Libby had mumbled a million thank-you's, feeling touched at what had just passed between them, diamonds glistening in her eyes.

"You're not half as bad either, Alisa Ortega." She whispered to the empty room, eyes still on the space that Alisa had vacated.

And somehow, she didn't feel nervous anymore.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

"You may now kiss the bride." The priest announced.

Before Nash could pick her up in his arms and plant a kiss on her lips, she scanned the crowd one final time.

There, in the middle of all the chaos, sat Alisa Ortega.

Libby grinned at her, not expecting anything but a small smile back.

She was surprised again, when she was met with the sight of Alisa grinning back. It was the first time she had seen a genuine, happy smile on Alisa Ortega's face.

She hoped it wouldn't be the last.

lace divider by @kodaswrld

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 5

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit on the back porch, reading a book as you avoid the dingy tabacco laden walls inside. After claiming a couple slices of pizza, you quickly evacuated, your mom latched onto your guest like gum beneath a diner table. You're happy enough to be alone.

You just want it all done with. You want to be done with him.

Your mom just needs to do one thing. Get the trailer and be done with the man overdosing on his own ego. She's never been on to let things go, especially nothing like this.

The screen door opens and closes. You stay as you are.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Tony declares as he approaches. You look up as he stands behind you.

“What do you mean?” You close the book and stand, not liking how his pant leg touches your arm. You face him as his mouth slants, the silver in his goatee catching the dimming sunlight.

“Me. Gonna take you for another ride.” He rests his hand on the wooden railing as you stand on the step below.

“No,” you say bluntly. “I have work tomorrow so I need to go get ready for bed.”

“What’s the matter? If you don’t like pepperoni, you could’ve said something,” he tilts his head. "I thought you had extensive experience with meat... workong in a deli and all."

“Really? You know this isn’t about the pizza,” you sneer.

“I know what it’s about as well as you.” He steps closer and looks down at you. “It’s this.”

He swirls his finger between you.

You narrow your eyes and grimace. “This... what?”

“Sexual tension. It’s like a noose, isn’t it? I’m close to gagging.”

You glare back at him, “you really believe every woman on earth wants you?”

“I know it so let's stop fucking around just get to the fucking.” He winks.

You laugh. A snort then a scoff then a guffaw. “Wow, what a line. Look you can buy us pizza and replace what you owe us but I'm nor impressed. You city people think we're all just a bunch of trailer trash and maybe we are, doesn't mean we wanna be like you.”

“Oh, but you definitely want me,” he intones.

You sigh, “I want to go to my room and never see you again.”

“I like that. The hard-to-get thing always gets me going.” He gets closer and you lean away.

“The hard to stand thing doesn't do it for me,” you retort. “Thanks for doing the bare minimum but I'm over it. Either we get what you destroyed or you go back and laugh at your little mistake with your rich buddies.”

“You're sounding bitter, sweetheart. Why don't you let me give you some sugar?” He reaches for you and you dodge his hand.

“Please, quit that. I told you, I am not into it.”

“You aren't? Well your mom sure is. Yeah, we made quite the deal. She's going to get her trailer and an empty nest.” He puts his hands out in nonchalance, “what can I say? I'm a great negotiator.”

“What–”

“Well, I mean you're not going anywhere here. Working at a deli and for what? I told her, you don't gotta be stuck here. Eating off her table, living under her roof. You're an adult.” He crosses his arms and smirks.

Yep, that sounds like your mom. She's reminded you a billion times how you've burdened her with your existence, just as your grandmother does to her. And he plucked on that string until he hit a harmony.

“What did you do?” You ask.

“You make it sound like I did something wrong. Sweetheart, I'm doing you a favour. I'm getting you out of this pit. A girl like you, you can't hope for better because I'll tell you something, there's nothing out there better than Tony Stark.”

He preens in victory. You squint and clap the book against your leg.

“Come on, everyone should see New York at least once,” he tries to tap your nose and you evade him, but not entirely. Instead, he hits your chest and you feel a sudden constriction across it.

Your ripped up by your chest as metal expands and twists around your torso. You shriek as you fly upwards, encased in a cocoon the blocks out the wind. The propulsion of the suit has you disoriented and rattling.

You hear a whir and look over to see the marquee red and gold of the iconic Iron Man. Tony grabs you, your gauntlet caught against his like a magnet, and he zooms off onto sky, dragging you with him. You cry out as you can do nothing but flail.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he voice comes through the speakers built into the helmet, “you don't wanna pass out in this thing. Trust me.”

“What the hellllllll!” You holler.

“Just wait till you see that New York skyline,” he chortles.

Your disbelief paralyses you. How can he do this? Well, you can't stop him. He's been enabled his whole life and you've just become another pawn to his games.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Idk if you write for them but what about a todoroki and Deku going on a blind date with a Chubby reader🤔 (btw miss ma’am you dropped this 🤲🏾👑)

Your Kind of Men (poly!bi!pro!TodoDeku x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader SFW One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Izuku "Deku" Midoriya x Shoto Todoroki x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you go on a blind date set up by your friend and her pro hero partners, not realizing that you're about to get your chance to meet some pros yourself who are highly interested in having a third...and they hope that it's you.

Warnings: AgedUp!TodoDeku (they're in their late 20s-early 30s); Bisexual!TodoDeku; Polyamory; Sexual Fantasies; Flirting; Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized (but anyone can still read this)

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Thank you for getting my crown for me, babe!! I hope you enjoy this! It's pretty tame except for the sex thoughts lol. Enjoy! -xoxo, Jazz 💋💋

********

“I don’t know how I feel about this, girl,” you sigh into the phone, staring down at your cocktail. “You didn’t even tell me what they do! What if they’re serial killers or something?” 

You feel a nervous sweat coming on despite the cool air in the fancy restaurant and the spaghetti straps of your dress allowing you to stay cool. You took a shower and added as much deodorant to your pits and jiggly inner thighs as you could because of your paranoia of smelling, but that does nothing to stop you from breaking out in anxious perspiration. 

“Would you stop that?” Your friend complains. “I didn’t tell you about their jobs because I wanted to surprise you! If Bakugou and Kiri know them, trust me: they’re good guys.” 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose to avoid an oncoming headache from too much stress. Though the fact that these “guys” are Bakugou aka pro hero Dynamight and Kirishima aka pro hero Red Riot’s longtime buddies, that doesn’t do much to ease your worries or mind. 

”Then they must be fine as fuck ‘cause your boyfriends are!” You groan, earning a giggle from your friend. “It’s not funny! I’m literally having a panic attack and I don’t think this cocktail is helping.” 

You stare down at your Perfect Peach cocktail made with vodka and peach preserves that is supposed to ease your nerves as you sit at the bar waiting for your blind date…or blind dates, rather. 

After further consideration and fantasizing about it for months, you confided in your friend about wanting to try a polyamorous relationship like she has with Bakugou and Kiri. She always seems so happy when she’s with them. You remember a time when you were happy like that with your boyfriend—everyday seemed sunny whenever he called or came to see you. 

But that was a year ago. After a very messy breakup which resulted in him moving away and immediately dating someone else, you did your best to forget him and move on. Getting back into the dating pool was the first step. You recently just started reviving your accounts on dating apps, but so far, none of them have sufficed. 

You often wonder how your friend did it—how she managed to bag not one but two pro heroes. And they’re so hot and sweet! Every time you see their big arms wrapped around your friend or see their smiles directed her way or see them pick her up from your crib and know she’s going to spend her night getting pleasured beyond belief by both of them, you can’t help but be jealous. 

Don’t get it twisted. You’re so happy for your friend! She deserves partners who adore her…but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t bother you that you don’t have that kind of relationship for yourself. 

Your friend’s calming voice pulls you out of your self-deprecating thoughts. ”Just calm down. It’s going to go great! But if it ever goes sideways or if you really feel like you can’t go through with this, just make some excuse, like I almost burned our crib down. Then you can leave!” 

”I’m not doing that,” you huff. “Your men went through all the trouble of booking this blind date for me. The least I can do is try to get through it.” 

Bakugou and Kiri specifically handpicked your blind dates for you tonight. They barely told you anything about them though. The only thing you know is that they’re friends. “You’ll love ‘em, doll!” Kiri told you. “I promise! These guys are super manly!” 

“They’re whatever,” Bakugou said, which didn’t help you at all. But then again, Bakugou was never good at giving compliments…unless those compliments are directed at your friend. 

“Well, to do that, you’ll have to get out of that head of yours,” your friend critically says. “Girl, you’re always overthinking! You like hot as fuck tonight and your dates will think so to. Just think about how they may even take you home tonight to get a piece of that nice, fat a—“ 

”And I’m hanging up,” you immediately announce, cringing at her hysterical laughter. “I just met the guys and it’s our first date! I’m not gonna—“ 

”Excuse me?” A rather familiar voice you can’t place politely asks you. You turn around, preparing to give this man the boot, but all of the words in your throat die when you get a look at who’s standing behind you. 

He is much taller and hotter in person, your embarrassingly large poster in your bedroom not doing you much justice. His gray vest, slacks, and white button-up shirt are rather tight on his toned body, his pecs and biceps pushing up against the fabric. The cutest freckles adorn his cheeks, almost popping out like a pop-up photo in a children’s book due to how green his hair and eyes are. They remind you of emeralds. 

Izumi Midoriya aka Deku, pro hero #1, in the flesh, is your date tonight. He gives you a kind, toothy smile, his hands behind his back. ”Are you Y/N?” He asks. 

Your mind is frozen in a block of ice, all thoughts and words put on pause. Too stunned to speak, you just nod. “Oh, good!” He sighs, relieved. “I thought I’d gotten the wrong person and embarrassed the hell out of myself!” He sheepishly laughs before passing you a bouquet of the most beautiful pink and yellow roses out from behind him. “For you,” he says, a light blush coating his cheeks. “Shoto picked ‘em. He’ll be in here soon.” 

Shoto. As in Shoto Todoroki pro hero #3. Bakugou is at #2 while Kiri is #4. If all goes well, you and your friend will be living the life dating such popular pro heroes. 

Wordlessly, you take the flowers, but not wanting to look like a crazy woman, you give Deku a smile. You just can’t believe this. You feel like you’re dreaming. “Y/N?” Your friend asks. “Helloooo? You there?” 

Brought back down to reality, you keep your eyes on Deku while you speak into your phone that you remember is pressed to your ear. “I’ve gotta go,” you abruptly say. “M-My dates are here.” Your friend just giggles. “Enjoy,” she sings. “Give me all the details when you get back.” 

Once she hangs up, the door to the restaurant opens. In walks your second date and Shoto is just as tall as Deku. He walks elegantly on long legs, his frame leaner than Deku’s, but muscled and toned. His black suit fits perfectly on him, giving him a dashing look that his long, red-and-white-toned hair tied in a ponytail only adds to. He looks like a damn fairytale prince coming to save you. 

His eyes meet yours and you swear he’s just as gorgeous in person. The burn scar over his eye only adds to his appearance, giving him a very sexy but unique look. He smiles at you and the air is immediately stolen from your plump, soft body. 

“You found her?” He asks, coming over to the bar to meet you. “I’m sorry, I was busy trying to find a parking spot. This restaurant is quite popular.” Deku nods, laughing. “That’s what it said on the website!” He chuckles. 

“Y/N, right?” Shoto asks, his silky voice directed at you. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Your friend told us all about you, but she left out how beautiful you are.” He sticks his hand out for a shake, his ringed fingers making you think of nasty things. You wouldn’t mind them wrapping around your neck or sliding inside of your—

”T-Thank you,” you say, finally finding your voice. You tentatively shake Shoto’s hand, shivering slightly at the wave of electricity you feel coursing through you at his touch. “I know who you are. Y-You’re Deku and Todoroki, pro heroes #1 and #3.” 

The duo share a look, both stunned. A mischievous smile stretches across Shoto’s face. “Someone’s a fan,” he teases. 

Deku rolls his eyes, criticizing his boyfriend. “Don’t tease her, Shoto,” he critically says before turning to you. “That, we are! I hope that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. We’re really just normal people…who happen to have quirks.” He looks worried that the fact that they’re famous may make you feel weird, but that isn’t even half of it. How the fuck are you supposed to act normal around such hot men?! 

Swallowing harshly and taking a much-needed sip of your cocktail, you start to feel somewhat confident from the vodka. “Well, it’s nice to meet you both,” you giggle. “Should we sit?” 

Deku offers his hand to help you slide off of the barstool with your drink and flowers. You feel his hand lightly ghost the small of your back and your skin suddenly bursts with warmth like it’s on fire. Your dress only somewhat smooths your back rolls which most men aren’t too fond of. But Deku doesn’t seem to mind.

He leads you over to a table near a window overlooking the sidewalk and decorated with two candles. Shoto takes the chair you’re about to pull out and does it for you. “Please, allow me.” He patiently waits for you to sit down before pushing you in and then taking his seat with Deku across from you. 

Such a gentleman. You love gentlemen. They make your heart pound and your inner thighs clench together to avoid the throbbing sensation you feel already coming. 

The two handsome pros sit across from you, their attractive features illuminated by the candlelight. Luckily, your waitress comes over to get your appetizer orders and fetch the pros drinks before wandering off to put in your orders. 

Shoto clears his throat and is the first to fill the silence. “Sooo, Y/N,” he begins, your name sounding like smooth butter on his lips, “how in the world are you single as pretty as you are?” Heat coats your face at his boldness. You’re not used to receiving such compliments. 

“Shoto!” Deku growls, elbowing Shoto in the arm. “We’ve only known her for, like, five minutes!” Shoto side-eyes his boyfriend. “So you don’t think she’s pretty?” He deadpans, smirking at the bright red blush that coats Deku’s freckled cheeks. 

“You’ve got game,” you giggle, earning a proud smile from Shoto. “Well, I recently decided to start dating again after a breakup a year ago. I missed nights like these, getting dressed up and going out with handsome men.” 

You watch surprise alight in the couple’s eyes that quickly melt into something more intimate and passionate. Because now they know that you’re just as attracted to them as they are to you…so far. The shift makes you feel hot all over and you cross your legs. This is going to be much harder than you thought. 

You shift slightly in your seat, clearing your throat. “S-So what about you two?” You softly stutter. “How long have you two been together? How come you’re looking for a third?” 

The two share a look and then a smile that grinds at your insides. You remember smiling that way at your person–so in love and content. ”Well, after five years of dating, we decided to venture into new experiences,” Deku answers. “We’ve both been interested in having a poly relationship for a while now, so we decided to give it a try.” 

He tells you that he and Shoto met in UA High and were friends at first before slowly becoming more. It’s a story fit for a friends-to-lovers book. Concern laces Shoto’s pretty, multicolored eyes. “And this is still okay with you? Seeing two men at the same time?” 

You want to correct him that they aren’t just any men. They’re pro heroes. Celebrities. They have status and notoriety. You would be hella stupid to say no to this. “Yeah,” you reply. “I’ve never dated two guys at the same time, but it never hurts to try something new.” 

Other than their perks as celebs, their easy-going personalities and warm nature make it especially hard to refuse them, so you feel comfortable saying yes. 

Shoto smiles, pleased with that answer, and raises his glass of red wine. “Cheers to new experiences then.” Deku raises his wine glass while you raise your cocktail before leaning to clink glasses and taking a sip in unison. You feel much better already. 

Deku suddenly gasps, his emerald eyes twinkling in excitement. “You have an All Might keychain too?” He gasps, staring down at your phone. “That’s so cute! I still carry mine around as a lucky charm.” Shoto rolls his eyes at his boyfriend, chuckling into his wine. “He can sit here all night talkin’ ‘bout All Might. Just warning you.” 

You giggle and tell Deku that you bought it at Hot Topic when the store was celebrating All Might’s birthday. A text from your friend asking if you’re okay suddenly pops up on your phone sitting face up on the table. You turn it over to be respectful to your dates but realize too late the phone case underneath. 

There, the chibi versions of Deku, Shoto, and All Might stare back at you. It was a gift from Kiri for your birthday, but now, you want to curse him for giving it to you and yourself for forgetting that it was on the back of your phone. 

Your dates catch it immediately and mirth alights behind their eyes. Shoto smirks at you, stifling his laughter. “You weren’t quick enough for that,” he chuckles. You flush with embarrassment and unbeknownst to you, Shoto adores it. Your skin glows increasingly more in the candlelight, making him want to kiss, suck, and lick every part of your beautiful skin. 

Deku is in the same boat as his boyfriend. He’s been admiring your beauty all night, but unlike Shoto, he isn’t as bold or as brazen, so he instead shifts the conversation to something else to distract him from how tight his slacks have gotten. 

“So you are a fan?” He excitedly gasps. “Wow! I can’t say I’ve ever been on a date with a fan of mine before.” Shoto’s lazily shift to yours, peering deep into you. “Me either.” 

You gnaw on your bottom lip, suddenly ashamed. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I’ll put it away if it makes you feel weird.” You go to put your phone in your purse, but Shoto’s hand stops you. You pause, your pulse jumping as you feel his long piano fingers brush your knuckles. 

“No, no, don’t,” he protests. “It’s cute. I just wonder out of the two of us which one’s your favorite.” He winks at you with that sapphire blue eye, teasing you. ”Todoroki, come on,” Deku sighs. ”Don’t embarrass her.” 

Maybe it’s the cocktail or the romantic atmosphere or gaining the undivided attention of the two sexy pros sitting across from you, but something inside of you flares up, filling you with confidence. “It’s actually both of you,” you shyly confess. 

The two look at you, stunned. “I’ll admit, I was more of a Dynamight fan until I saw you two with those kids at that charity event for the children’s hospital. I love men who are good with kids.” You flash them a bashful yet endearing smile that makes them throb and ache down below. 

“Ah, I remember that event,” Deku says, reminiscing. “That was a year ago for Christmas.” He suddenly leans in, a secretive smile on his face. “Don’t tell him this, but you definitely wouldn’t be a fan of Dynamight after learning he’s horrible with children.” 

He and Shoto proceed to tell you about when he was forced to dress as an elf for the charity event and he fussed at every kid who instead told him what they wanted for Christmas and tugged on his fake elf ears. “We had to stop him from blowing up the Christmas tree,” Shoto says, watching with adoration as you laugh into your appetizer. 

The waitress finally returns to take your main course orders and refills your water. When she leaves, Deku and Shoto once again give you their attention. “So tell us more about you, Y/N,” Deku says, and your heart somersaults at hearing your name on his lips. 

Despite their laser beam-like gazes in the candlelight and the vodka making you feel slightly unbalanced, you do as they say. 

You talk about anything and everything, starting with your job. You tell them what you studied in school and what you do now for work. Shoto looks impressed while Deku damn near chokes on his appetizer when you tell him ”An assistant at NASA?” He gasps. “That’s amazing! So if we ever fight an alien from a distant planet or something, can we call on you to fix us up with a rocket?” 

It’s a bad joke and you laugh, finding his boyish nature oh-so cute. Shoto rolls his eyes, popping an oyster into his mouth. “Again with the alien talk,” he huffs. You look away to your cocktail, stifling a smile. “You too?” Shoto asks while Deku laughs. “You really believe in those little green men?” 

You smirk at him, pointing at him with your fork. “This is coming from a guy who shoots ice and fire from his hands,” you retort. Shoto is shocked (and turned on) by your wittiness, as is Deku. They like a girl who is playful like that. “Touché,” he replies. 

Once your dinner finally arrives at the table, the convo shifts to food and drinks. Deku is fond of spicy miso ramen and mocktails while Shoto prefers black coffee and soba. You tell them your favorites and non-favorites, resulting in somewhat talking about bubble tea and how you’ve never tried it before. 

Deku looks like you just admitted to murder, pausing mid-bite with his grilled halibut. ”You’ve never tried bubble tea before?” He gasps. “Oh, you’re missing out. It’s literally one of the best creations in the world!” 

Shoto shakes his head, biting into his plank steak. “He’s exaggerating, but it is quite good.” You take a sip of your cocktail, feeling the effects of the vodka taking over. Everything is bubbly and warm, and a rush of newfound confidence courses your veins. 

“Guess you two will have to teach me then.” You don’t mean for it to sound so suggestive, but then again, you don’t care either. Because the two men are immediately caught on your hook, their gazes intense and warm. 

The flirting doesn’t stop there. Throughout dinner, they are more than happy to show you that they are very romantically interested in their beautiful date—you. Deku is more lowkey and bashful, complimenting the shade of your dress and your earrings, while Shoto flat-out tells you how attractive he thinks you are. 

It takes its toll on you—all of this undivided attention—and you find yourself sweating from it. You’re not used to such genuine flirting and compliments. You don’t know if going home with them is on the table, but if they ask, you won’t say no. That you know much. 

You know deep down that sex on the first date isn’t exactly socially acceptable or appropriate in some cases, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that. However, there is a part of you that is saying “no, don’t”. The voice of reason. The romantic part of you that wants to get to know the two pros and see where things take you. 

Other than flirting, you talk about other things: favorite heroes, their time at UA, favorite missions, vacation spots, etc. They also talk about Warner Bros apparently wanting to make a movie about Deku. “I heard they’re thinking about casting Tom Holland,” he sighs. “He looks nothing like me! But he is a good Spider-Man and is apparently Hollywood’s heartthrob.” 

You giggle, chomping down on your shrimp salad. “He’s cute or whatever, but I prefer my men much bigger and taller, like Jason Momoa.” You practically salivate at the mental image of him. 

Shoto and Deku share a look, smirking at each other. “Is he your type of man?” Shoto asks, a playful glint in his eye. 

The two look at you, quietly eager to know your answer. Your smile fades when you realize you just walked into a trap. But there’s no turning back now…might as well go all in. “Kinda,” you answer, unaware of how airy your voice sounds. “But I do like my men with long hair and pretty eyes.” 

Your eyes trail over Deku’s ever-green eyes that you could stare into forever and Shoto’s long hair you want to trail your fingers through. You want to make it known that you like them. You want them to see the fantasies running wild in your head of you together in bed, in the dark, both of them pressed against you, kissing and touching, all passion and energy transferring from one body to the other. 

Suddenly, you feel shy again and wither slightly. “Sorry,” you giggle. “It’s the vodka talking.” Shoto fixes you with a look that damn near peels you out of your dress. “Let it talk,” he softly demands. “We really like talking to you, Y/N.” 

Deku nods, a slight blush coating his cheeks. “You know, we couldn’t believe we were on a date with someone as gorgeous as you?” He sheepishly asks. “Not that Kaachan and Kiri would fix us up with someone we weren’t attracted to, but seeing you for the first time…” He pauses, blowing air out of his cheeks as if he’s winded. “It was a trip.” 

You flush from his words and genuine tone, knowing that he’s serious. They really think you’re that beautiful? “So would you say I’m your type of girl?” You boldly ask, running your hands lightly over your pudgy sides and down your jiggly thighs under the table.

In Shoto’s eyes, you see nothing but a passion so bold and open that it makes you melt. “I don’t think that even needs to be questioned, doll. You have a beautiful personality. Your looks just add to our attraction for you.” The pet name rolling off of his lips has you ready to get the check and go home with them. 

“Don’t mind his bluntness, but he’s right,” Deku adds. “Anyone would be stupid to have fumbled someone like you.” You see the same genuine passion and enthusiasm in his eyes too. There isn’t a stitch or slip of the truth in their faces. They are dead serious. 

You sit up a little straighter, tightening your hands clasped together in your lap. “Thank you,” you shyly say. “And for the record, any girl would be lucky to have two partners like you two on her arm.” 

They look as if they want you to be that “girl” whose arms they are on. 

The rest of the dinner goes by in a flash. Time really does fly when you’re having fun. You finish your food and they demand you put your credit card away, instead paying for your meal. They then walk you outside and sit on a bench near the restaurant window as you order your Lyft. 

They did offer to drive you home, but you politely declined. Despite your immense attraction to them, they are still strangers…at least right now, they are, but you hope that changes soon. 

While Shoto takes your right, Deku sits down on your left, putting you smack dab in the middle. “We’ll wait here till your Lyft comes. We don’t mind at all! It means more time with you.” You bashfully smile under the moonlight and stars in the clear night sky. The cocktail is starting to fade a bit, so you feel rationality start to sink in. 

A comfortable silence descends upon you three, only filled by the idle chatter of passersby and cars. When you check your phone, your driver is announced to be arriving in five minutes. “I really enjoyed tonight,” you say before clearing your throat. “I think this is one of the best dates I’ve had in a long time.” 

Deku smiles, looking overjoyed to hear this. “We’re happy to hear that. We had a great time with you too.” His fingers, placed on the bench, slightly brush yours. Electricity explodes in your veins at his soft touch. 

Shoto hums in agreement, nodding. ”Hopefully, you’d be up for some more great times with us.” You blink at him, realizing what he means. He wants another date. Deku does too judging from the way his fingers inch closer to yours. 

Taking things one step further, you move your hand closer to his until your hand is on top of his. You hear him physically exhale as if his self-control is jumping out the window. 

“Well, yes,” you answer Shoto, “but you’d need my number for that.” Your tone is soft and flirty, your lashes framing your eyes as you stare up into Shoto’s handsome face. 

Catching on, he playfully smirks down at you. “Then I guess we have a dilemma,” he says, his voice silky and smooth. “So how do we solve that?” You button your lip, mostly because you’re afraid of saying something stupid and ruining the magic of this moment. 

“I guess we’ll just have to compromise, won’t we, Midoriya?” He sighs, acting defeated. Deku catches on to the game and plays the role too, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “I guess so. After all, we still need to get you to try mochi.” 

You’ve never smiled so wide in your life. By the time the two finish putting their contacts in your phone, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Your heart is thundering and you feel like you can fly, high on the fact that these two heartthrobs want you. 

Your Lyft finally arrives in a white SVU and rolls up to the curb. “There’s my ride,” you breathlessly announce, standing with the two. The window rolls down to show your female driver. “Y/N?” The driver calls. You nod, waving at her. 

Deku and Shoto walk over with you to the car, protective and chivalrous. “Here, I’ll get the door for you,” Deku says, opening the back door for you. You thank him, but before you can slip into the seat, you suddenly feel his and Shoto’s pairs of soft lips on either side of your face. Your brain short circuits and the entire world disappears. 

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” Shoto whispers into your ear. 

“We hope to see you again,” Deku adds, his voice just as soft and intoxicating.

’You will,’ you think. You want to see them again more than anything. Already, you’re grieving the loss of such a perfect night, desperate for the chance to have one again with them. 

They then step back and allow you to crawl in, no doubt staring at your ass as you do. But then you stop and look back at them, willing to show some of your cards to end the night. “You know, for the record,” you begin, “you two are my type of men. And I’d really like to see you again too.” 

Suddenly, the air between you shifts. You can feel it in the way Deku and Shoto stare at you like they want so much to get in the car and go home with you. 

But they don’t. Instead, they leave you with something that will suffice you for days to come. Shoto leans in first, his hand on the top of the car as he peers into the backseat and presses his lips to yours in a soft, gentle kiss. It’s enough to send those butterflies flapping haphazardly in your stomach as his thumb softly caresses your cheek. 

But as soon as it happens, it’s over. Then it’s Deku’s turn. He also leans down to kiss you, the taste of wine and mint gum heavy on his tongue as it lightly touches yours. You stamp back a moan, your toes curling in your shoes at the soft, intoxicating kiss. 

Their kisses are the best ones you’ve ever had. 

Finally, Deku pulls away and peers at you, his eyes holding a promise of what’s to come next if you venture down this road with them. “We’d like that,” he pants. “Call us when you get home, okay?” 

Closing your parted mouth to avoid looking insane, you nod and try to recover. “Y-Yeah,” you stammer. “I will.” Deku smiles as Shoto reaches in to kiss your hand. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

You say goodnight and Deku closes the door, allowing the driver to finally drive off in the direction of your home. You watch the two standing on the curb watching you go, your heart still hammering away and your skin alive with flames. You lightly touch your lips, still feeling theirs on them. 

The first thing you do is put in your AirPods and call your friend, a stupid smile stretching across your face. She picks up on the second ring. “You’re alive!” She giddily says. “So what happened? Did you guys kiss? I got your Lyft notification, so I’m guessing you didn’t go home with them.” 

“No,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “And yes, we did kiss. And I got their numbers.” 

Your friend nearly blows out both of your eardrums as she squeals into your ears. “Ooooh, the boys are gonna be so happy!” She squeals. “So tell me everything! How was the date?” 

With your smile growing wider, you add your two contacts to a group chat to thank them for the date tonight with emojis that you added to their names yourself: 

Deku 🥦💚, Shoto ❄️🔥❤️

Thank you for tonight!

“It was everything,” you dreamily sigh. 

THE END.

[dekus-fellow-crybaby]

Nightmare Fuel

Summary: After venturing into the woods and stumbling across a statue, Gravity Falls’ newest resident meets her worse nightmare...or maybe her scariest wet dream.

Requested by @fivvy

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Minors DNI. DARK FIC! This fic contains darker themes such as manipulation, possession, violence, dub/con, and non/con! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Aged-up Characters, Bill x reader, Bipper x reader, slight Dipper x reader? (There's some tension), porn with plot, slight MabelxPacifica, asshole!Dipper, mind sex, mind break?, sex pollen-like symptoms?, supernatural elements, horror-like elements, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, revenge sex, choking, asphyxiation, accidental voyeurism. Lmk if I forgot anything! LAST WARNING! DARK ELEMENTS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AND NO MINORS!! AGES IN BIOS!! Seriously guys, it’s kinda messed up and I will block minors!

Word Count: 7.9 k

Gravity Falls. The town just west of weird. And your new home. When you were younger your family used to drive through the small, eccentric town on the way to visit family in Portland. Your parents just loved the scenic route, and the great nature of Gravity Falls was about as scenic as it got. You never stayed in the town long, but the curious corner of the world always drew you in. The people you would meet during your occasional diner stops or the stories you would hear piqued your interest. It drove you towards a love of writing and reading, just searching for vibrant characters that might match the town's local color. Which is why you decide to take a year off college and live amongst the people that initially stirred your curiosity.

Stepping off the bus, the sunlight speckles through the trees, the warmth dusting your cheeks, and you are welcomed back to the town of Gravity Falls. The scent of pine trees and maple surround you as you walk towards the town square, a suitcase rolling behind you. Checking the address on the post-it note in your hands, you make your way to the house on the edge of the woods: the Mystery Shack. It was probably more of a gamble than you should have taken to respond to the rooming ad for a place called the Mystery Shack, but it was the only available housing in the small town, so you'd just have to take your chances.

Skipping the town tour, you make your way to the tourist trap, but you take note of the town as you go. Everything seems perfectly normal. but you hoped that wouldn't remain the case. You needed something interesting to write about, something to spark a flame of inspiration in your head. So far, nothing but your new place of residence seems out of the ordinary. You make it to the Mystery Shack, surprised by the number of cars parked out front. A number of people come in and out of the house, most being led around by a dude in a suit, eyepatch, and fez. Walking closer to what you can only assume to be a tour group, you listen in on the man rifting off facts about the obviously fake attractions.

"And here we have the rock that looks like a face, dudes," the tour guide said.

"But is it a rock or is it a face?"

"No, dude, it's a rock that looks like a face," the tour guide sighs as if he got this question often. "It's-it's not an actual face." This only sparks more controversy for the guide, so you peacefully excuse yourself from the group, bypass the entrance for the indoor Mystery Museum, and trudge around to the backdoor. You're pleased to find no tourists there. From the window, you notice a few people filing around the room and you hope they were the actual residents of the house/tourist attraction. Knocking on the door, you are almost immediately met by a bubbly brunette answering with a brooding blond watching intently behind her.

"Uh, hi, I'm—"

"Are you our new roomie?!" She beams, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she ushers you in before you even give your answer. Once you’re in the room, you take in each of the girls' features. The brunette smiles at you excitedly, a pair of perfectly straight teeth flashing between glossy pink lips. Her curly hair tumbles down her back, the front of her bangs are held back by a dark pink headband which matches a pair of leggings she wore beneath a white tee with a multicolored shooting star on the front. The blond behind her has straight hair, straight-cut bangs brushing over her long, mascara-covered lashes, a light purple dusting of eyeshadow matching a purple jersey shirt with a white diamond on the front over a pair of black leggings along with a pair of big, white hooped earrings.

"Yeah, yes, hi," you breathed out, apprehension and shock in your tone as you’re pulled in. "Are you Mabel?"

"Actually...I'm your new roommate!" She squeals before deadpanning with a, “But yeah, my name is Mabel.” You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

"Well, it's really nice to meet you, Mabel," you say genuinely, a sigh of relief passing your lips along with a giggle.

"This is Pacifica, my gf and our other roommate," Mabel introduces. The blond nods her head, not saying a word as Mabel does all the talking. "And my brother also lives here but he's kinda...busy right now. He's sorry he couldn't be here for the greeting party though!" You brush that off. "How about we give you the tour and then we can get to know each other."

She grabs one of your two bags as she leads you to your room: a dark space with a slanted ceiling, a stained-glass window in the far-left corner which offers a muted colored light, a furnace in the far right, a bed at the center of the left wall, and a closet to the left of the bed. It’s perfect for a shut-in writer such as yourself. Mabel tells you that the room used to belong to her Grunkle Stan who was travelling the seas with his brother, her Great Uncle Ford.

Dropping the bags onto the bed, the three of you made the rounds of the house. Mabel and Pacifica share the attic, Mabel saying she has sentimental attachment to the space. While walking through their home, Pacifica tells you how she had grown up as a rich only child. Her parents had fallen on a bit of "hard times" after her dad made a bad investment in some bonds and they had to sell their mansion to the town kook, Old Man McGucket, and, yes, that is how he prefers to be called. After living with her parents until she was legally able to leave, her now living with Mabel and her brother in the Mystery Shack was not only convenient but is also like a middle finger to her oppressive parents. You learn all of this before you even make it to the living room. You really like how talkative Mabel is. Her extrovert personality counteracts your quiet tendencies.

Coming to Mabel's twin brother's room—who you found out is named Mason but is nicknamed Dipper—it’s a mess. Dirty laundry, papers, and books all scattered over every surface. You barely notice the shape of the bed or couch underneath the piles of clothing and maps. The only thing that seems to be somewhat in order was the bookshelf. It’s stacked to the brim with books except for the top shelf, where only three books rest, all with their covers facing out. Each one is a deep blue, a drawing of a silver Pinetree overlayed with a golden Big Dipper constellation and underneath is printed golden numbers 1, 2, 3. They look like journals, though you had no idea what information could be handwritten there. You gather that he’s either a brainiac or a maniac, and neither tend to have very clean tendencies. But you aren’t one to judge, knowing you could get the same way in the midst of an inspired breakthrough. Your muse could work in mysterious and very annoying ways: ergo the entire reason for moving to Gravity Falls.

"Yeah, my brother tends to be a bit...hazardous when he gets in the work zone," Mabel explains sheepishly. "If it's not his room, it’s the basement that's a mess. Or both. Mostly both."

You’ve stayed relatively quiet the entirety of the tour but your curiosity itches at you brain, prompting an inquisitive, "What does your brother do?"

"Science research...of sorts," she answers through thin lips.

"Of sort?" Your brows scrunch together at the vague implication.

"Yeah, I'm not entirely sure the specifics of his work, just that he has a few Ph.D.'s," she shrugs, a nervous laugh bubbling in her throat, as if it wasn't a great feat to have multiple Ph.D.'s before the ripe age of twenty-four.

"Wow, that's...really impressive," you breath, not knowing exactly how to respond to her nonchalance over the subject.

"Yeah, proud of my bro-bro, just wish he would wash his clothes," she chuckles, faking(?) a grimace and pulling a laugh out of you and Pacifica.

The rest of the tour went on like this, sharing stories and taking cracks at one another, giving you an idea of the nature of the relationship between your new housemates. Mabel went on and on about how much the house means to them, and how much their great uncles mean to them as well. It’s really sweet, and you believe that you’ve found yourself some interesting characters to write about.

Mabel is really nice and, while Pacifica had a very hard exterior, you can see her softer side in the moments when she lets herself slip out of that tough exterior to laugh for Mabel. They both help you unpack quickly, even brightening up the space with a lamp Mabel had decorated herself—crystals hot glued to the base, refracting a cascade of rainbows around the room. You feel so welcomed already.

An ear-shattering bang shakes the house, dust drizzling from the ceiling and effectively startling you awake.

"Fuck!" A voice screams. You follow it with a heart-pounding urgency, leading you to the gift shop where smoke billows into the room. The vending machine swings open, and you startle, a small squeak leaping out of your throat. A figure emerge from the smoke, coughing and waving his arms with a cap in one hand to clear out the black cloud surrounding him. When the smog clears enough for you to get a good look at the man, the first thing you saw was the mop of curly brown hair, much like Mabel's, that is powdered with soot and debris. His pale skin is marred by the caking of dirt over his exposed arms and cheeks, yet the dark circles underneath his eyes were still prominent despite only being illuminated by the moonlight seeping in through glass windows. The dark grayish-green tee with a black question mark on the front was also frosted in a layer of powder. The red flannel tied around his waist seems relatively unscathed until he uses the material to wipe what is still on his face. His arms lifted to rub off the grime, showcasing the ink markings on his forearms. You can’t help but stare at him and the opened vending machine entrance, mouth hanging open at the scene. You wonder if you’re dreaming.

"Trying to catch flies, sunshine?" His deep voice rattles. You know he’s speaking to you despite him refusing to look your way.

"Excuse me?"

"No?" He smugly questions, the sarcasm dripping from his voice that is riddled with sleep deprivation and husky from his dust-coated throat. He finally looks over at you, allowing you to meet his chocolate brown eyes. "Then you should close your mouth." You wrinkle your nose at the snark of his tone. Before you can reply, the girls come down from the attic.

"Nice going, Dipstick, what did you blow up this time?" The blonde grumbles. You make a mental note to never wake the girl from her beauty sleep lest you receive the same venomous tone.

"None of your business, Pacifica," he sighs.

"I don't know why you're in such a piss mood when you were the one to wake everyone up at three in the morning, moron," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes so far back into her head that you’re sure she caught a glimpse of her brain.

"I know that you, more than anyone, need your precious beauty sleep, Pacifica, but my lab is not any of your concern," Dipper snaps back.

"Shut up, Dipshit."

"Buy my silence then, rich bitch."

The tangible tension in the room surrounds the house residents as Pacifica's eye twitch and her nostrils flare. Pacifica, not wanting to put up with his attitude any longer at three in the morning, mumbles a quiet, "Whatever," and turns on her heel, heading back upstairs. You can’t help but admire the great restraint on her part.

"Mason, go to sleep," Mabel utters firmly, tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance as she speaks. "You're a dick when you haven't slept in a few days." He knows better than to talk back to Mabel when she calls him out like that, especially so when there is a significant lack of a nickname.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he groans, his hand dragging down his face, smearing black back onto the skin he'd just half-heartedly cleaned off.

"And you will apologize tomorrow." It’s not a question from Mabel, the no-nonsense tone leaving little room for debate.

"Yeah, I will," he mutters, followed by a nearly silent, "When Waddles learns to fly."

"Well, he already did," she argues, leaving you absolutely confused. "I'll see if I can't get her to apologize for the ‘dipshit’ comment but yours was worse so you have to make the first move."

"I know the drill, Mabel." She nods at his compliance, turning to you.

"I'm sorry that this is your first impression of my brother," she says sheepishly, though her tone scolds him still.

"This is the Ph.D. guy?" You choke out the inquiry softly towards Mabel, shock clear in your tone. She shrugs, nods, then goes off to find Pacifica.

"You must be the new roommate," he smiles then, though it’s more condescending than friendly. Despite that, he still holds out his hand for you to shake. "Nice to meet you. Stay out of my lab."

"Noted," you scoffs, taking his hand as if in a daze.

"Nice pjs," he smirks, instantly turning your cheeks red as you remember what you wore to bed. Nothing more than a thin T-shirt that barely covers your backside. You snatch your hand back from his hold. "Oh, and welcome to Gravity Falls."

Looking around, you take in the black-and-white space surrounding you. The trees still, despite the breeze grazing your skin; the birds hover in the air, wings wide spread; the wildlife turn their heads towards you yet don't move an inch otherwise. It’s like walking into a vintage photograph. Your mind wanders as your feet carry you deeper into the forest, following the gentle stream. The only color illuminating the monochrome forest is yourself and the image of a floating yellow-

"Mabel! I've said it once, I've said it a million times! I don't want any Mabel juice!" The sound of Pacifica's shrieking voice stirs you out of sleep, pulling you from the odd dream.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you walk into the den full of commotion. "What the hell is Mabel juice?" You ask sleepily, mid-yawn. You’re met with coos about how adorable the action was from Mabel, to which you blush and sheepishly wave off, already getting the sense that Mabel found cuteness in almost anything.

"Mabel juice!" Mabel announces proudly and far too loudly for so early in the morning. "A beverage of my own invention!" She shows off, presenting the drink in question that looked like a hot pink choking hazard. "Want some?"

"Hmm," you hum in thought at her hopeful intent. "Thank you, Mabel, but I think I'll stick with coffee. I do appreciate the offer though." She just shrugs, still beaming, and pours herself a glass. The sweet smell of pancakes wafts around the room as you sit at the kitchen table. "Something smells good."

"It's my ultra-chocolate-chip pancakes with sprinkles!" Mabel announces, sliding a plate over to Pacifica with a nicely decorated array of rainbow colors over a cloud of whipped cream in the shape of the Smiledip puppy.

"Wow, is this what breakfast is always like here?" You wonder aloud, Pacifica shrugs, hesitates in thought, and then nods.

"How many pancakes, Sunshine?" Mabel hums, the nickname falling easily from her lips. She obviously makes attachments very quickly.

"One, please," you say politely. Mabel is quick to oblige, whipping up similar masterpieces that look like a kitten judge, complete with chocolate syrup whiskers, a powdered sugar powdered wig, and a bacon gavel. "Mabel, this is really incredible." You can’t even remember the last time you had a hot breakfast. Or any breakfast for that matter. You didn't exactly practice a habit of self-care while taking your college courses...or any basic needs really like a regular eating schedule or exercise.

"Why thank you, Cutie-Patootie." You would respond if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed with the bacon gavel. "Sleep well?"

"For the most part." You nod slowly before your mind drifts back to the three a.m. incident. "Can I ask you something though?"

"Shoot."

"Is your brother always like that?" Pacifica snorts derivatively beside you, as if laughing at her own inside joke echoing in her head.

"Well, if you mean pushing the reasonable boundaries of his own health to finish his current hyper fixation…then yes," Mabel sighs, offering a sad smile. "But the bitchiness, no. He’s usually sweet, just sassy. But he tends to slip into bitchy mode when he hasn't gotten enough sleep…which now that I think about it is whenever he’s on the edge of a breakthrough…So to answer your question: yes."

"Hmm, that seems so stupid, though," you hum around a mouthful of the sugar drowned pancake bite.

"Pardon?" The voice comes from behind you, startling you with a bite of pastry cat judge halfway in your mouth. You would have choked if you'd taken a bigger bite. Turning your head, syrup almost dripping off your pouting bottom lip, you see Dipper. He obviously showered which was quite the improvement from last night. Now that his face is clean you can take notice of his features. You remember the big brown eyes but now, without the smudges of grease and grime on his forehead, you notice the pair of bushy eyebrows and fluffy curls that rest above those chocolate orbs. It looks like he hasn't shaved in a while, a shadow of scruff shading his chin. Instead of the question mark tee from last night, he’s wearing a dark blue sweater with the words "Disco Girl" in bubbled sky-blue font that reminds you of a 70s aesthetic mood board which he accompanies with a pair of grey sweats. You think it an odd outfit choice for the moody man in front of you, the juxtaposition boggling your mind. He cocks his head and raises a bushy brow in question when you take your time to answer.

"I mean, it just doesn't seem very productive," you shrug when you finally shallow the breakfast bite that was stuffing your mouth, the hypocrisy dripping off your words as much as the syrup. "When you don't get enough sleep your neuroreceptors lose their sensitivity to serotonin and norepinephrine which leads to impaired cognitive function. I thought you were supposed to be a genius or something." You mumble the last part while sipping on your cup of coffee. Pacifica snorts out of laugh, Mabel has to slap her hand over her mouth to cover the traitorous smile, and Dipper stares at you with his nose wrinkled and his brows drawn together, taking in your words and frowning at the implication.

"I'm going back to bed," he announces, immediately turning on his heel. “Save me a pancake gnome, Mabel!”

"Are you a science buff too, Sunshine?" Mabel asks once Dipper has turned the corner. Peering past the wall, you check to make sure he was really gone.

"Nope," you popped the 'p'. "I got that off a tv show. I just wanted to stump him." All three of you erupt in laughter.

"Okay, I’ve decided to like you," Pacifica giggles, leaning back in her chair and giving you an approving once over. "On a trail basis, of course. We’ll see how it goes."

"Honored," you chuckle.

"So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?" Mabel asks. She turns the stove off, carrying over a plate with a llama pancake for Pacifica and her own her has a pancake shaped like a dolphin…with muscular arms instead of fins?

"Well, I wanted to check out the town a bit," you answer with a mouthful of the syrupy breakfast. "Maybe walk around the forest a bit…Any good landmarks to check out?”

"Want a tour guide?"

"Yeah, that’d be great, Mabel," you answer gratefully.

The three of you make a day of exploring the town. Mabel and Pacifica show off every aspect and share all the quirky attributes of the small town. Considering the size of the town, the tour doesn't take long. The last stop is Greasy's Diner where Pacifica works. The three of you eat lunch before Pacifica clocks into work. Mabel offers to walk with you back to the Mystery Shack before she goes back out to the craft shop for more knitting supplies. You politely decline, saying that you can find your way back on your own. You part ways and you take your own time strolling back to the house, taking the long way through the mysterious woods you've been itching to explore.

After living with the trio for a few weeks, you caught on to a few things. Mabel is a being of pure chaos, but she makes it work. She channels most of her energy into her creativity, her job consisting of running an Etsy shop selling knitted sweaters. Pacifica is actually a very chill person. She was rather reserved, and you'd catch her people watching often, especially when Mabel's friends Candy and Grenda would come over. She would often observe them with a small smile playing on her glossy lips. She seemed like the perfect balance for Mabel's wildness. And Dipper hates your guts. You're not sure why, but you frequently found him glaring at you. You're not sure what you did, but the guy always has an evil eye for you. Especially when you get back from your daily walks through the woods.

That's another thing about your time in Gravity Falls that seems odd to you. You're not sure why, but you're drawn to the wilderness. It's as if something in the forest was calling out to you.

Your mind wanders as your feet carry you deeper into the forest. Your surroundings blur and blend into the verdant brush or golden glow of the setting sun. You don't even realize how long you've been traveling until your limbs begin to ache and nothing around you is familiar anymore. You hear and see nothing resembling that of a human touch, only the steady thrum of the natural world you've stepped into. The final rays of the evening sun light your path as you venture further, a meager attempt to find your way back to civilization. However, you curiously find yourself stumbling upon a mossy mass of stone, and time seems to slow down the moment you do. The trees still, despite the breeze grazing your skin; the birds hover in the air, wings widespread; the wildlife turn their heads towards you yet don't move an inch otherwise. Coming closer, you see a scrawny statue arm reach out to you welcomingly. Your eyes travel over the attached body, the monument shaped like a personified pyramid. You tiptoe around the monolith, studying the odd artwork. A breeze sweeps over you, a shiver working its way down your spine. There's a sudden subtle tickle at the back of your brain and a slight paranoia settles across your skin. Your eyes find the granite gaze of the one-eyed creature, and goose bumps bloom over your flesh. You don't understand it, but you feel a simultaneous urge to flee as well as an overwhelming draw towards the inanimate figure. The contradiction creates a harsh turmoil within you, and you feel frozen, granting your surroundings the perfect opportunity to whisper advice into the wind. You can almost hear an audible "Run!" from the wood, but you can't bring yourself to follow the orders. Instead, your hand hesitantly reaches out to the outstretched hand, your fingers gingerly grasping the stone and wrapping your digits around the stony hand. However, just as your palm settles against the carved rock, fingers grip your wrist and yank you away, pulling you back into a hard chest. And suddenly, time is back on track. You're ripped from your daze as you're spun around to meet a pair of frantic chestnut eyes.

"What did you do?" he screams, shaking you by the shoulders. His face goes pale, deathly so, and the new ghostly shade causes the dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks to drain along with his rosy completion. You unconsciously frown at that realization.

"What?" you mutter in a trance, your mind rousing slowly from the mental fog.

"What did you do?" he repeats in a panic, the desperation in his voice snapping you out of your stupor.

"Nothing!" you squeak out in defense.

"You don't touch this!" he wails in your face. "Don't ever touch this!"

"I won't!" you cry out, hands pushing at his shoulders and clawing at his fingers gripping painfully at your arms. His eyes are searching, scanning your face and person manically. Looking for what, you don't know. But he stares into your eyes as if expecting something new. Well, new to you, at least. You get the feeling that whatever he thinks he'll find swimming in your irises is something that he is plenty familiar with. When he seems satisfied enough, he pushes you away softly. Instead, he turns to gaze at the granite figure once more. A shaky hand cards through his curly bangs, showing off the constellation of freckles that were previously hidden. The movement nearly nudges his hat off his head, letting it rest haphazardly on his head. After a moment, it seems as though he settles the argument that has been playing out in his head. He grabs your bicep and starts dragging you back to the house, ignoring your protests.

When you make it back to the Mystery Shack, Dipper drags you through the attraction side of the house, stopping in front of a vending machine. He punches in a code before pushing you through the entrance that reveals itself. You're welcomed into a dark, dusty hallway lit only by a gas lantern. You then ride down in a creaking elevator, watching the numbers change through broken display glass. Once the metal elevator gate opens up again, another room is unveiled, and you soon realize that it's the basement laboratory, the one that he specifically, in no uncertain terms, told you to stay out of. You believe it was the first sentence he said to you, actually.

This room is by far more well-kept than his bedroom, but it also seems more lived in. There are contraptions, books, papers, and writing utensils scattered over every surface, but it at least seems like there is controlled chaos.

He maneuvers you to sit on an uncomfortable wooden stool in front of a wall of monitors and computer keyboards. You don't know why you've let him direct you so easily thus far, but you might be more afraid of what would happen if you resisted. He seemed so shaken, unstable even after you touched the statue.

You nearly jump out of your skin as you feel cold metal atop your scalp. You whip around to see Dipper attempting to fit a rusty colander with tubes sticking out of it over your head. You jump up finally, drawing a line in the sand.

"What the hell is going on?" You screech, a heaviness weighing on you as the fog is finally gone and you begin to understand the possible gravity of the situation.

"Relax," he sighs. "It's a cranium scanner. It's harmless. It's just meant to scan your thoughts."

You scoff. "Why do you need to do that? Why should I believe that's what you say it is? Why were you so freaked out about that statue? Why were you even there? Were you following me? You need to work on your communication because you just drag me down here and try to hook up some terrifying machine to me without my permission and without explaining and this is freaking me the fuck out!"

His jaw ticks with every word that quickly leaves your lips. Silently, he lifts the device to his head and fits it on his scalp. The moment he does the monitor comes to life. Green words dance across the screen and mumbles buzz from the speakers. You see and hear phrases like "Fuck, this girl is annoying...I need to run these tests...We have to hurry...gotta make sure he's not back...keep everyone safe, have to keep everyone safe...Man, I'm starving...When was the last time I did laundry?...Nah, that's a waste of time...Disco girllll, coming throughhhh, that girl is youuu...Shit, now that I look at her she's kinda cut—" He rips the machine off his head and clears his throat before shrugging his shoulders and waving his hands as if to say "I told you so" in a single motion. "See? Harmless. Now put this on."

You shake your head. "I still need an explanation."

He sighs out in frustration, taking the stool for himself as he runs a trembling hand over his exhausted features. "Look, this town...it's not normal, okay? There are things here...things that can't be explained...including that statue." You stare at him tentatively, noticing the way his fingers fidget together and his brow shines with sweat. "Just...do this and we will never speak of this again." You watch him for a moment, trying to gauge whether the knot in your stomach is intuition or just nerves over his odd behavior. You don't think you can trust him...but you feel like he needs this...whatever it is. And you hope that it'll calm his erratic behavior. Plus, you're a little amazed by the mindreading device, and you kind of want to know if it's accurate or not. You cautiously step forward, nodding minutely. He rises from the seat and allows you to take it. You do, wiggling around a bit to get comfortable on the incredibly irritating wood panels.

"Can I at least get a better chair?" you grumble.

He actually chuckles, a breath of relief leaving his lips as he nods. He drags an old, velvet-upholstered chair that sits next to a chess table. He smacks the cushion and allows a layer of dust previously caked on the fabric to fly into the air. You can live with it more than the splintering stool. You settle into the seat and allow Dipper to place the appliance on your head.

First comes the shock as all your thoughts are displayed on the monitor at a mile a minute, including the thoughts of your shock. Next comes the processing as you watch Dipper take a seat and start scribbling notes as he observes the monitors. You watch as every one of your thoughts is displayed and you begin to feel exposed as every one of your anxieties are advertised. Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter close, trying your best to relax.

The next moment you open your eyes again something feels off. You scrunch your brow as you look around the room, trying to figure out what's different. Looking over to Dipper, you notice that he's stopped writing. Instead, he sits staring up at the screen. You miss how the screen no longer projects your every thought and only produces static. Your skin bubbles with pins and needles, a sudden chill filling your bones as Dipper remains unmoving with his chin resting on his intertwined fingers. You can't see his face and that alone unnerves you as the silence persists.

You hesitate to speak. "Dipper?"

His hands separate, palms placed flat on the keyboard top. Other than his arms moving, nothing else does. The anxiety is slowly pressing into your chest as you patiently wait for his next action or word. You're beginning to think you should run.

"Y'know," he starts. His voice sounds different, higher pitched, and echoing slightly. "The human mind is such a delicate thing...so fragile and easy to manipulate." He stands then but still doesn't face you. When he turns towards you slowly, his features backlit by the sinister green glow of the monitor, his movements are casual, and he leans back against the desktop with his arms crossed. You can see his eyes. They're different from the chocolate chip orbs that you saw before. Now his pupils consume the entirety of his irises, and it seems as if they're slanted like cat eyes. They almost glow yellow. They nearly remind you of...

He laughs suddenly, wobbily stalking towards you as he shakes his head mockingly. His voice morphs as he continues to make the maniacal sound. It becomes high and pitchy, echoing a shrill, unsettling quality in the sinister cackle that makes your stomach drop. "I mean, look at you! Look at how easy it was to lead you to this moment. You didn't even fight it!" Your hair stands on end at his words and your limbs tremble as you're reminded that you were worried that this would happen. Is it possible to tell yourself 'told you so'? "You just followed me through the woods. I didn't even have to trick you into taking my hand, you curious little thing!" You flinch as Dipper cages you between him and the seat, his face inches from yours as his eyes study you.

"What are you talking about?" You squeak out, your voice finally working once again. Now that he's so close, you know exactly where you've seen such odd eyes before. The statue in the woods.

"Ahh, there it is," he giggles. A hand comes up and grips your chin between his thumb and index. He shakes your head from side to side while pouting at you derisively. "Figure it out?"

"What—how?"

"Hmm, maybe not," he chuckles. He taps a finger into your temple slowly, but the gentle touch feels far more frightening to you, as if it's the calm right before the raging storm. "And here I thought you were a smart girl." His voice has morphed once again, two voices bleeding into one. You hear Dipper's voice being overtaken by that discordant tone that he laughed at you with. His eyes drag down your body then, a darkness seeming to seep into those unsettling ellipse pupils. "It's always odd to look through two eyes. Everything seems so much more...third dimensional. Much more graphic. For instance," his hand cups your throat, the touch so gentle and soft, but there was an obvious threat there, "if I squeeze, I'd be able to see your skin turn red and maybe even blue if I cut off your air for long enough." He absently chuckles, as if lost in the image of what he's imagining. He leans in closer, running his nose along your jaw. "I'd be able to see your veins popping out. Maybe I'd feel your windpipe crushing too." His eyes drift up to yours, as if only now remembering that you're there. He offers a smile that could possibly resemble something sweet, but it only turned your stomach. "Don't worry, Sunshine," he whispers, gently pecking your cheek, "that's not what I want."

"What do you want then?" you ask, your voice surprisingly harsh despite how your insides knot up and your throat feels as if it's closing up.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he pulls his gaze away from your temptingly delicate throat.

"Just saying hi to an old friend," he answers, releasing his hold on your neck and placing his hands on either side of your head. As he leans into you it's as if you're witnessing a real-life glitch as the man in front of you shifts from Dipper to a lanky, tan blonde. Wild locks peek out from a tiny top hat atop his head and sweep over his bangs that cover one of his eyes. He'd look like a normal person if he weren't wearing such a predatory grin that reminds you more of a monster instead of a man, the ethereal yellow glow that radiates off his skin, or the cracks at the edges of his face with a galaxy peeking through the unnatural jagged breaks of flesh. But just as quickly as the image of the new man appeared, it was replaced by Dipper once again. He wiggles his fingers in a small wave. "Isn't that right, Pine Tree?" He stares into your eyes but it's as if he's looking through you, instead. He's not talking to you.

Suddenly, his fingers clamp over the nape of your neck, the painful pressure causing your muscles to tense and you're at his mercy. He uses this to throw you towards the dusty couch along the wall. Now that you're out of his immediate vicinity you try to get up and run but he moves like lightning and he's over you in an instant.

"Sorry, Sunshine," he says as he swings a leg over yours, locking your body in place as it's trapped between his thighs. The image of his body continuously glitches from Dipper to the person you saw before. Your arms thrash as you squirm and kick and try to get away, but he pays no mind to your struggle, capturing your wrists easily in his grasp. His fingers dig into your skin as he grips your jaw painfully. "It's nothing personal. Well, not towards you, at least." He laughs as if he said something so funny, an inside joke only for him. "Actually, I should be thanking you. You freed me, your pretty little mind is going to be my new home. And in light of that, I think you deserve a little treat, huh?" Despite your struggle, the man easily held you down with a hand wrapped around your wrists. His other hand smooths down your sides, goosebumps raising in the wake of his touch. His fingers dig into your cheeks as he presses an open-mouthed kiss against your lips, his tongue slipping in and scavenging your mouth. And the taste of his tongue rubbing against yours is…intoxicating.

It’s like the sweetest of ambrosia seeping into your tastebuds. You feel like you should be fighting more, struggling harder against the man's advances. You feel the way your veins fill with ice at the realization of what he is planning to do. But your mind feels foggy, your movements sluggish and out of your control; the same way you felt while walking in the woods. Your mind is only consumed by the taste of his lips and how it fills your every being. You need more. Your skin feels hot, burning but in the best ways possible. The feeling slowly begins to thaw the ice in your bloodstream as his touch lights your nerves. You vaguely hear the light chuckle in his voice as your lids flutter halfway and you focus on the featherlike trail his fingertips left over your skin.

You open your mouth, but no words leave your lips, and that shrill laugh rings out again.

"See?" he coos, a mixture of Dipper and the other high-pitched voice resonating through the small room. "So easy." His hand releases your wrists, but your limbs stay in place, unmoving even with their newfound freedom. His thumbs knead into your sides as they slip underneath your shirt, slowly rolling the fabric up your body. "Bet Pinetree is squirming in his seat right now. Better give him a show, huh, Sunshine?" Despite every alarm bell in the back of your mind going off, you find yourself agreeing with the strange entity, knowing nothing but the need for more, more, more. His lips curl up into a sinister smirk as he watches the confusion etch into your brows but you do nothing to stop him.

His shirt is ripped over his head in an instant, displaying Dipper’s pale skin and the curly brown hair of his happy trail before his image shift into a mirage of the other man. Golden brick-like tattoo lines and crack of glowing galaxies along his body mar the perfectly tan skin of the unfamiliar man. And the glitches stop, you notice. He is no longer Dipper. He is only the fabricated personified image of the statue in the woods.

Dark fingers the look like they were dipped in ink and absorbed up to his elbows drag over your frame, cutting away each scrap of clothing covering your body. They fall away so smoothly, as if they were merely delicates drapes just waiting for a breeze to brush them away in a gentle sigh. You want to move your hands and cover yourself but you can’t bring your limbs to listen. They belong to him now. All of you belongs to him now. And the smirk on his face tells you he knows that.

"Wish I had a real body to truly enjoy this, y'know?" He murmurs, gaze hungrily roving over you. He unhurriedly brings himself to lay on the couch chest down between your legs, the dark tendrils of his hands curling below your hips as his head nuzzles into the side of one of your plush thighs. His hair is soft, you notice. Softer than any earthly object. And you are choosing to focus all of your attention on that fact rather than the hungrily look he gives you. "But taste is more of a mental construct, isn’t it? I don’t need a real tongue to thoroughly enjoy a meal." It’s the only warning you receive before a devilish tongue is ravishing your inner walls. Despite his initial nonchalance, he moves quickly to pick you apart with only one muscle. Your eyes flutter shut at the pleasure but just as q uickly, a fist closes around your throat and your eyelids fly open once again. "Eyes on me." And you listen, keeping your eyes on the golden iris trained in you as your jaw drops open in a silent scream while he brings you to completion under his skilled tongue. You don’t make a sound until his hand claps down in your thigh, signaling the need for an audible response to your climax. You oblige, letting a high-pitched moan escape your lips. He looks satisfied enough as he comes off of you with a wolffish grin.

You keep your eyes trained on him as he leans over you once again, as if you are incapable of closing them again. You’re not entirely sure if that inability is because of your own will or because of his command. Either way, you watch as the man hovers over you, causing you to jerk when his cock surprisingly taps your sensitive entrance. You look down then, watching the angry red, mushroom head sliding between your folds. Your body seems conflicted, trying both to get away from the friction and seeking to catch the bulbous tip on your weeping opening. You realize that he’s teasing you, however. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that he won’t do anything until you beg for it. He wants you to beg for it.

You listen to his sinister chuckle, the maddening sound bouncing inside your head…or are you both already inside your head…?

"Oh, you figured it out, Sunshine!" He chuckles in that echoing voice of his. "Now you know what I want, so do it." Your mouth opens without your permission but no words escape. "Oh, c’mon, Sunshine. I know you want it too…just give in."

"Please," the word is barely audible as it escapes your lips, but he hears it, perking up at the sound.

"Please what?"

"Please…please fuck me!" You can’t keep the whine out of your voice as you finally plead for what this has all been building up to. You don’t know this man—Creature? Ethereal being?—or what kind of spell he put on you. All you know is that you need it. Everything will be better once you feel his cock pummeling in and out of you. And that’s exactly what he does, plunging into you the second the last syllable leaves your lips.

The stretch is painful and you aren’t sure if the scream you release is because of the pain of his dick tearing through you or the pleasurable drag you feel on your inner walls. It’s like you want to scream, cry, push him out, but you can’t. You can only take it, take it, take it, just as he orders you to while he snaps his hips into you. You realize that you are crying, but again, you have no idea if the tears are from the wonderful stimulation or the searing shame of this moment. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Dipper knows. You ask yourself what he thinks of you in this moment and if you even care when you’re being speared on a fat cock.

Again that demented laughter rings in your ears, reminding you of the demon you’ve officially sold your soul to that’s treating your body like his personal property. Maybe that’s his now too, along with your sanity. You can’t seem to say much besides moans and whines and pleas for something you’re not sure you want.

"Oh, I really wish you could see her face right now, Pinetree," he giggles, as if talking to himself. "You’d fucking love it. I know I do." He chuckles then, like he made an inside joke before his hand curls around your throat and makes sure your eyes are on him solely. And he speaks but not to you, to something he’s looking at through you. "But I really wish I could see your face right now. You getting off on this, Little Dipper? I bet you are. Freaks like you and me, we gotta enjoy these little moments when we get them." His grip tightens on your throat then and the panic sets in again. Whatever it was that lulled you into a false state of complacency is gone. You feel the oxygen struggling to fill your lungs as his hips snap faster in and out of you, his lanky fingers bullying your button as you’re starting to swim in asphyxiation.

There’s a twinkle in his eye that was never there before as he watches you struggle. You realize that his sadistic demon is getting off more on torturing you than he has this entire time. The smile that spreads across his face is one you know will haunt your very being. And you hate yourself as his digits circling your clit brings you to release just as your vision blackens at the edges. You barely register the warmth flooding your insides as you’re finally allowed to close your eyes.

You wake again with a start, your body shooting up in the chair again, the odd helmet once again gracing your crown. Your eyes land on Dipper whose back is turned to you and you wander if the nightmare is only restarting again. But when he turns around, you see the dark dusting of color on his cheeks and know that this isn’t the demon you just dealt with. But if the boner in his jeans is anything to go by, you do know that he watched the whole thing.

Dipper clears his throat, awkwardly shifting as he faces you, his hands fruitlessly hovering over his crotch and his eyes refusing to meet yours. "Umm," he squeaks. "I think we need to talk."