#it took me too damn long to finish this anime

[verricherri]

Shoulda Knocked (NSFW///MDNI)

A/N: hm bc y’all asked. DONT BLAME ME OKAY. It’s not my fault. Warnings: You will need holy water. Lock the damn door next time. (Also Rhett says “my girl” and you will lose your mind.) Masterlist Feedback and reposts are appreciated ☀️

The plates were still in the sink. Syrup-crusted forks soaking in lukewarm water. Somewhere on the ranch, a screen door banged shut and bootsteps faded toward the fields. Morning sunlight slanted across the tile, catching dust in the air, slow and soft and golden.

You licked sugar off your thumb and caught Rhett’s stare from across the kitchen.

“Don’t,” he said, voice low. Warning. You blinked, all false innocence. “Don’t what?”

He stood slowly. Chair scraping. His shadow stretched long across the floor. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” You tilted your head, mouth twitching. “Who says I won’t finish it?”

And that was all it took.

Two long strides and you were caged in his arms, your back against the counter, breath stolen right from your chest. His mouth was on yours in seconds—hungry, unrelenting—like he’d been starving since sunrise.

You laughed against his lips. "Thought we had chores." "Let the chores wait."

—

You made it to his room half-dressed and laughing, your bare legs wrapped around his waist, his mouth on your throat. The door slammed halfway shut, bounced, and stayed open just enough to doom you both.

He laid you back on his bed like you were breakable—then tore your shirt off like you weren’t.

“You in such a damn rush this morning?” you teased, breath hitching when his fingers slid between your thighs.

He didn’t answer. Just groaned when he found you already wet.

“You know what you do to me?” he muttered, mouth hot on your jaw. “Walkin’ around my house like that—in my damn shirt, no bra, those little shorts—barely wearin’ a damn thing—lookin’ at me like you want me to wreck you.”

Your back arched when his fingers pressed deeper, rough and sure.

“Maybe I do,” you breathed. “You gonna do it or keep talking about it?” His laugh was low, almost cruel. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll make sure you can’t walk to dinner.”

—

His belt hit the floor. You were flipped over like nothing—face down, knees pressed into the mattress, shirt still on but hanging off your shoulders. He didn’t bother with slow. Just spit on his hand, dragged it over himself, and pushed inside in one long, deep thrust that knocked the air out of you.

Your hands clawed at the sheets.

“Shh,” Rhett said, voice thick. “Gotta be quiet, darlin’.”

You nodded, cheek pressed to the blanket, and gasped when he drove in again. Harder. Deeper.

 “God—Rhett—” “Quiet,” he warned again, but didn’t slow down. His hand pressed between your shoulder blades, holding you in place.

Outside, birds chirped. A tractor started somewhere in the distance.

Inside, your world narrowed to the drag of his cock, the creak of the bed, his name rasping out of your throat like prayer.

He bent over you, breath warm against your ear. “Told you not to tease me,” he murmured. “Told you I’d ruin you.”

You didn’t answer.

Couldn’t.

—

And that’s when it happened.

The creak of the hallway floorboard. The slow, careless push of a hand against the door.

And then:

“Rhett, you seen my—OH WHAT THE FU—”

You froze.

Rhett didn’t.

He twisted around just enough to yell, voice hoarse and furious:

“KNOCK, PERRY!”

Perry made a sound like a dying animal. The door slammed shut so hard the frame shook.

You collapsed face-first into the bed, mortified.

“Oh my god.” “Oh my god.”

Rhett didn’t move. Still buried inside you. Still hard.

“…You gonna get off me or…?” “Nope,” he said, way too calm. “You think I’m stoppin’ just ‘cause Perry can’t mind his own goddamn business?” You twisted to glare at him. “You’re sick.” He grinned. “You love it.”

Rhett was still inside you. Still hard. Still cocky.

You tried to pull away and yelped when his hands yanked your hips right back into him.

“Rhett—” He leaned over your back, kissed your shoulder, your spine, the dip of your waist. “Don’t play shy now. You were beggin’ five seconds ago.” “I wasn’t—” “You were.” His fingers slid under your jaw, turned your face so he could kiss the corner of your mouth. “Still are.”

Outside the room, the floor creaked—then heavy footsteps stomped down the hall. A door slammed somewhere near the kitchen. You prayed Perry didn’t walk into a wall on his way out.

Inside, your body betrayed you. Heat crawling back in. Your thighs trembling.

And Rhett knew it.

“You gonna let me finish, baby?” he whispered, voice gravel and honey. “Or you wanna be real sorry tonight?”

You swallowed hard. Nodded once.

“That’s my girl.”

—

This time was slower.

Not gentle—Rhett was never gentle—but worshipful in that way only he could be. Teeth grazing skin. One hand under your belly, lifting your hips just right. His other arm hooked around your ribs, palm splayed between your breasts, holding you tight.

He fucked you like you were his. Like no one else had the right. Like he didn’t care if the whole damn town knew.

“Still so wet,” he muttered, dragging his mouth along your shoulder. “You gonna come for me again?” “I—I already—” “Again.”

You sobbed his name into the sheets.

And he chased your second high like a man possessed.

The bed creaked louder now. No point pretending anymore. You were past shame. Past words. You clawed at the sheets, gasped his name, let him use you how he wanted because God, you wanted it too.

Rhett’s breath hitched. His grip on you tightened.

“You’re mine,” he grunted. “Say it.”

You did.

And then you broke apart, crying out into the mattress as he spilled into you with a curse, hips still pumping through it, chasing every last wave.

—

The silence after was obscene.

You lay there boneless, sweaty, mouth open against the blanket.

Rhett finally pulled out with a groan and flopped down beside you, chest rising and falling like he just ran six miles. One hand dragged down his face. The other found your thigh and squeezed.

“Shit,” he said, half-laughing. “I think I saw God.” You groaned. “I think Perry did too.”

Rhett snorted.

You rolled over and slapped his chest. “He’s never going to look me in the eye again.” “Good,” Rhett said, smug. “Means he won’t try nothin’.” “He’s your brother.” “He also needs to learn how to knock.”

—

You didn’t leave Rhett’s room for a solid hour.

Mostly because your legs weren’t working right, and partly because Perry might still be in the hallway clutching a Bible and rocking back and forth.

When you finally crept out, Rhett trailing behind you like a satisfied menace, the ranch house had gone suspiciously quiet.

Until you heard it: the unmistakable sound of Perry slamming every cupboard door in the kitchen, pretending to do something useful.

You paused in the hallway. Rhett reached over and gave your ass a full-on grab.

“Don’t,” you hissed. He smirked. “What? You’re walkin’ like you just got ruined. It’s cute.” “Rhett.” “What?” “Do not ever call me cute after your brother caught us mid—mid-—” He leaned in, brushed his lips against your ear. “Mid what, baby?”

You shoved him, face burning.

—

Dinner that night was... a war zone.

Royal was telling some story about cattle feed. Cecilia was humming while scooping potatoes.

Perry sat across the table from you.

He did not look up once.

Not when you said hello. Not when you passed the cornbread. Not when Rhett intentionally reached for the gravy boat across your chest and smirked the whole time.

You chewed in silence, eyes darting anywhere but the man who had seen everything.

Cecilia finally looked between you and Perry. Then at Rhett.

Her spoon paused mid-scoop.

“…Everything alright with y’all?”

Perry coughed violently into his napkin.

You nearly dropped your fork.

Rhett, absolutely unbothered, said, “Peachy.”

Perry stared down at his mashed potatoes like they owed him a refund.

Cecilia narrowed her eyes just a little. She knew. You knew she knew. Women like her always knew.

Royal, completely oblivious, just kept eating.

—

The Day After

You walked into the kitchen half an hour after Rhett, hoping the worst had passed.

It hadn’t.

Perry was already at the table with his coffee, flipping through a tractor catalog like it personally offended him.

The second you stepped into the room, he glanced up—froze—and then got up without a word and dragged his chair to the far end of the table, as if proximity might trigger another trauma flashback.

You blinked.

Rhett didn’t.

He just watched his brother relocate and smiled. Sat down in Perry’s abandoned seat like he was settling into a throne. “You sittin’, or you need help down again?”

You kicked his ankle under the table, heat rising in your face.

Royal, blissfully unaware, looked up from his newspaper. “Everyone sleep alright?” Rhett lifted his mug. “Like a baby.”

Perry choked. Actually choked. Coughed hard enough to slap his own chest.

“You good?” Royal asked. Perry cleared his throat violently. “Swallowed wrong.” “Right,” you muttered, stabbing your fork into your eggs like they were responsible for your humiliation.

Amy came skipping into the kitchen with her hair braided and her mouth already running.

“Uncle Rhett!” Rhett glanced up from his toast. “Yeah, kid?” “Why’d Dad tell me not to go near your room yesterday?”

You stopped chewing.

The world stopped spinning.

Cecilia, halfway through stirring honey into her tea, froze mid-circle.

Rhett, somehow, still didn’t blink. “’Cause I was busy.” Amy plopped into her chair. “Busy doin’ what?”

Perry’s fork clattered against his plate.

Royal looked between everyone like he’d walked into a Western stand-off.

You tried to slide further under the table.

Perry said, a little too sharply, “Eat your damn eggs, Amy.” “I was just askin’…” she grumbled. Rhett leaned back in his chair, eyes cutting toward you. “Guess I should’ve hung a sign.”

You kicked him again. Harder this time.

—

Cornbread Confession

Cecilia was elbow-deep in cornmeal by the time you tiptoed into the kitchen later that afternoon. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, flour smudged across her wrist, and a determined crease sat between her brows as she stirred like the world depended on that cornbread rising just right.

You lingered near the edge of the counter, unsure whether to offer help or disappear. Finally, you cleared your throat and reached for the butter dish. She handed it over without a word.

The silence that followed was thick. Tangible. Like you could spread it on toast.

And then, without looking up, she said evenly, “You know, I raised two boys in this house.”

You froze, butter knife hovering mid-air.

“There ain’t a single wall I haven’t heard through. Pipes too. Even vents. This place carries secrets like air.”

Your hand slipped. The butter knife hit the counter with a loud clink that felt louder than thunder.

Your cheeks flamed. Words scrambled in your head but refused to form.

Cecilia finally looked up. Her gaze landed on you with the weight of a hundred unspoken things.

Not cruel. Not even mad. Just... immensely powerful.

She didn’t sigh. She didn’t smile. She simply handed you the pan, her expression unreadable.

“Oven’s hot.”

You took the pan like it was a holy offering and obeyed in complete silence, your ears ringing, your soul leaving your body.

As you slipped it in, you caught her murmuring under her breath, more amused than annoyed:

“Don’t break his damn back next time.”

—

Barn Breakdown

You spotted Rhett and Perry heading to the barn just before sunset. You weren’t proud of yourself for creeping toward the back window, the screen slightly askew so you could hear.

But you also weren’t sorry.

Perry’s voice carried first, already halfway to explosion.

“You couldn’t just LOCK the goddamn door?” Rhett sounded utterly unfazed. “Didn’t know I needed to. You creepin’ ’round the hall like a feral cat.” “I WAS LOOKIN’ FOR MY DAMN NOTEBOOK!” “You found somethin’ better.” “I FOUND YOUR BARE ASS AND TRAUMA, RHETT.”

There was a pause. You could almost hear Rhett smirking.

“You’re welcome.” Perry’s voice went high enough to send birds scattering from the trees. “You’re disgusting! You defiled that room! You defiled HER!” “She was plenty involved, thank you.” “OH MY—”

Another silence. This one deeper. Darker.

Then came a groan that echoed like a dying ghost through the barn.

“I need holy water. And bleach. And a fuckin’ lobotomy.”

A crash. The barn door slamming hard enough to rattle the horses.

You ducked back into the house like your name was guilt and your sin had just been found out.

—

Royal Connects the Dots

Sunday morning came with too much sun and not enough shame. You were still nursing the bruises—physical, emotional, and reputational—from the last forty-eight hours.

You passed Royal in the hallway, pretending to look busy, clutching a half-empty mug of coffee like it might shield you from eye contact. Rhett was right behind you, freshly showered, shirt half-buttoned, hair slicked back in a way that should be illegal.

Royal glanced up.

Then down at the hickey blooming above your collarbone.

Then at Rhett.

Back to you.

His mouth opened. Paused. Closed.

“…You know what?” he said finally. “I don’t wanna know.” He turned toward the porch, muttering under his breath, “Just don’t break no damn furniture.”

You sipped your coffee and prayed for the floorboards to open.

—

The Call to Church

Cecilia popped her head in after breakfast, lips already pursed like she knew resistance was coming. “Church. Ten minutes. No excuses.”

You were mid-eye roll when Rhett sauntered in behind you, belt buckle shining, smug as sin.

“You’re comin’ with me,” he said, like it was already decided. You blinked. “To church?” “Mhm.” “After everything?” He grinned, the kind of grin that made your insides fold in on themselves. “Figure we both got stuff to repent for.” You scoffed. “You’d catch fire.” He winked. “Only if you sit on my lap.” “Rhett.” “Ma’am?”

You threw a spoon at his head. It hit him. He laughed anyway.

—

Hell in the Pew

You ended up sandwiched between Rhett and Perry in the third pew from the front.

Perry looked like he was doing long division in his head just to dissociate.

Rhett was pressed against your side, thigh to thigh, radiating body heat and bad decisions. He leaned a little closer every time you shifted away.

“Touch me and I’ll castrate you with this hymnal,” you whispered. Rhett leaned in like it was a dare. “Darlin’, we in a house of God.” “Exactly. He’s watchin’.”

The sermon began. The preacher's voice was slow and solemn, echoing through the rafters.

“Today, we speak of temptation. Temptation that may enter our homes, take root in our lives...”

You could feel Rhett’s smirk without even looking.

Perry coughed so hard you thought he might pass out right there in the pew.

—

Communion & Crimes

When the communion tray passed down the row, Rhett took the cracker, sniffed it like he was judging a wine tasting, and leaned toward you.

“Body of Christ,” he murmured. “Tastes a little dry.”

You crushed his foot under your heel.

He yelped.

Perry muttered, “I’m surrounded by heathens.”

—

Post-Service Sinning

Outside the chapel, townsfolk milled about, shaking hands and pretending they hadn’t just been mentally undressing each other during the sermon.

You and Rhett stood on the grass, trying to look normal.

Trying.

The reverend made his way toward you, hand extended, eyes kind.

“It’s always lovely to see young couples in the pews,” he said warmly. “Such a blessing to witness young love.”

You opened your mouth to say something safe, polite, God-fearing.

Rhett beat you to it.

“We’re real blessed, sir.”

You elbowed him so hard in the ribs that he actually choked.

But he didn’t stop smiling.

TAGLIST:

MY CHERRIES: veri🍒: @tokkiz @lizzie8878 @mrsparker3696 @pixie2k5 @0urlady0fs0rr0ws421 @astromilku drop your cherries: veri🍒: tag for ALL of that character works

[ifwebefriends]

I want to study Mob Psycho 100 under a microscope. It’s like a normal shounen anime with big fight scenes and rivals and male best friendships and romance but then the chronic lying sopping wet bastard man who we are told not to trust says some shit like “you need to be honest about who you are with someone if you want a lasting relationship with them” and like damn it’s like Bluey for adult anime fans

[zharizard666]

I think I never updated on my hard drive situation :')

Bad news: Everything is lost.

Good News: I dgaf I will rewrite things from scratch >:(

I have multiple projects unfinished that require my attention, but I will try to be more organized from now on so I can actually make faster progress and post quicker (literally all the things I posted are the things that got saved from that deadly format :'>).

Meaning I will put the Competent Zim Comic on the top of priorities. Once I'm done with that the Ness & Lucas Askblog follows, then Some Earthbound AMVs I also lost.

[fadedtoneverland]

gamer boyfriend | j.yh

synopsis: yunho’s on an overwatch game with his best friends. despite wanting to get some good rounds in, his sexy girlfriend just had to come ruin his winning streak in the sexiest way possible

pairing: gamer boyfriend!yunho x fem!reader (ft. gamer!woosan)

theme: smut ❣︎

a/n: originally was gonna be a timestamp fic… but i made it too long 💔 enjoyyy~

cw: smut, cockwarming, hickeys and marking, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!), cumming inside, praise, slight exhibitionism, manhandling near the end

cockwarming gamer!yunho while he’s in a game with his friends…

your boyfriend just wanted to hang with his homies. get in a couple of good rounds on overwatch, and slowly climb up the ranks.

yunho’s fingers tapped furiously across his special LED keyboard, subtly glowing a rainbow hue underneath the keypads. his tongue stuck out in concentration, trying to deal with the enemy team ambushing their payload.

“this fuckin’ reaper is flanking me,” yunho murmured, his voice sounding almost too strained. “woo! i need some help here!”

“at your service, pookie~!” wooyoung chimed in cheerily, currently playing as mercy and diving in to save yunho’s doomfist.

“please never say pookie again, wooyoung.” san piped in the voice call, taking out some enemies from afar as hanzo.

the game was tense and high stakes, at least in the world of gamers. yunho narrowed all of the energy and hand-eye coordination skill he could trying to complete the task, determined to keep his and his friend’s clean win streak so far.

and yunho was pretty determined to complete this, almost… too determined.

and when he gets too determined on something, you just have to come ruin his peace.

“damn, yuyu. you must be locked in! you’re barely sayin’ anything.” wooyoung laughed while juking some of the enemy team players.

yunho strained a smile, acting like wooyoung could see it despite being on voice call. “yeah- that’s exactly it.”

he was mustering up every ounce of self-control to keep his voice from straining, considering the fact that his incredibly hot girlfriend was currently cockwarming him. straddling his lap and buried her face into the crook of his neck.

you chuckled naughtily when you faintly heard wooyoung’s comment from yunho’s headset, nuzzling even further into yunho’s neck.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered into his creamy skin, nipping at his neck and leaving blossoming marks. “just gotta make sure they don’t notice. make sure you win this game, yeah?”

yunho’s right hand practically clawed at his mouse, the other tapping the WASD keys furiously as he steeled his nerves to make sure he didn’t fucking lose it right then and there. you always that this way of swaying him even when he’s most composed, like a damn siren. he is but a weak man, and only for you.

and yunho could barely keep himself straight, not when your sweet pussy was clenching around his thick shaft so good that fireworks exploded behind his eyelids. your juices dripped down his balls, and he could feel every fucking second of it, barely resisting the urge to just fuck up into you.

too distracted, yunho took some damage from an ambushing genji, and barely recovered in time. san noticed too, and quirked an eyebrow from the other side.

“ayo get your head in the game, yuyu! you were so locked in earlier. we’re so close to finishing this thing!” san reminded, speeding up ahead to clear up the pathway for the payload.

“yeah, yunho.” you sighed quietly, the sound way too filthy against the shell of his ear.

“get your head in the game.”

yunho grit his teeth even harder, starting to get irritated that your cunt was costing him the game.

“i know,” yunho groaned into the mic. “just— more jittery than usual- i guess.. agh—“

“you good, man?” wooyoung chirped through the speaker. “you sound out of breath… are you sick or something?”

shit. they were onto him now. god, why couldn’t they play animal crossing. yunho felt like his entire dignity was on the line, and it pretty much was at the moment.

you clenched harder around him as he almost replied to wooyoung, and he barely got his voice straight. “shit— i’m fine… just- just really into this round right now.”

“mhm, sure man.” san sarcastically commented, but quickly focused back on his task.

this game was going well so far for yunho, even with his dick getting wet for the past ten minutes or so. but even when he managed to get his body under control, there was nothing he could do about that dirty mouth of yours.

“almost got caught, baby.. so naughty,” you sang softly into his ear, giggling like a damn minx. “it’s like you almost want them to figure out what’s happening, huh? you’d be into that, wouldn’t you?”

“shut the fuck up—“ yunho hissed to you, choking on a quiet moan when you ground down harder onto him in response, a sound the mic definitely picked up.

you could practically hear wooyoung raise an eyebrow at the sound, visualizing his flabbergasted face. “yunho, what the fuck was that?”

“nothing. sore throat.” yunho hashed out firmly, definitely getting distracted and not focusing on the payload that was getting mobbed. san and wooyoung were too locked in to further question it, but now we’re both very suspicious.

you giggled softly into his throat, rocking your hips harder and feeling the tip of his bulbous head nudging against your sweet spot continuously. clit grinding against his pelvis, and your increased ragged breathing, had yunho silently going feral.

“fuck, baby. so hard… so good..” you whined silently against his fair skin, biting softly. yunho ground his teeth together so hard he felt they were gonna shatter.

“are you gonna cum inside me, yuyu?”

“no— fuck no- i’m.. agh- i’m busy—“

too late. you rutted yourself harder and quicker onto him. the force has his chair squeaking, and yunho couldn’t take it anymore.

his hands left the keyboard and flew to your hips, which cost him the game, but he wasn’t thinking about that. with one hard, slick thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you and came hard. thick ropes of hot cum painting your insides white, and you shuddered at the feeling of his load filling you up.

yunho groaned loudly and slumped against the chair, pulling you down to caress your body. meanwhile, san and wooyoung were too busy raging about losing the game to even notice their friend just had the best nut in weeks.

“DUDE! we almost had it! what happened?!” san yelled through the mic, his staticky voice snapping yunho out of his post-orgasmic bliss.

yunho sat up, and brought the headset mic closed to his lips, voice now darkened. “i have to go.”

“what—!”

click. yunho muted himself.

with that, yunho visited you up in his arms, clawed his head set off, and threw you down onto his bed. a shocked gasp left your lips as you bounced on his mattress, and he quickly climbed on top of you.

the look in his eyes was downright filthy. he bit his lip and firmly grabbed your chin, making you look at him.

“you better strap in, cause i’m not gonna stop fucking you ‘till you soak my damn sheets.”

you gulped, a flicker of excitement in your eyes, finally getting what you’ve been craving.

“yes, sir.”

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fadedtoneverland © 2025 | do not steal, modify or repost ANY of my work.

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

BABY FACE BABY FACE!!!!!!!! KSDJDHG LFFKL WHY IS HE SUCH A CUTIE PATOOTIE

embarrassingly long ramble and wintersberg drawing below the cut:

lmao, I finished the GG playthrough of re8 the other day and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

anyway yeah. Don't even know what to write about it cuz it sorta overtook me with no warning, and idk shit about resident evil but here we are.

I read mushrooms and magnets on ao3, i did the frowned upon thing and went straight to most kodo-ed (i KNOW it's wrong but i didn't feel like searching!! I just wanted to Read. If I stick around any longer I WILL read other things too), and I feel like that's probably a rite of passage in the ethan/heisenberg wing of this fandom. Blasted through it in like 3 days. Anyway, like, 3 quarters through it I realized I never took it upon myself to see what ethan looks like? I just assumed he had Typical White Guy Face, which yeah, he does, but after an image search.... I never realized he had such a baby face skjdgf sksjfh PRETTY BOY PRETTY BOY

So then I drew him. And I drew heisenberg too, although I need more practice with him. Plus I think I got gassed out for the night, after drawing ethan. it's really hot and it can be hard to remember how to draw for fun after doing so many commissions.

One of my go to drawing visions is one character in profile, and the other character all up in their face in a pseudo profile, 3/4, tilted angle. And idk why I keep doing that, because I fuck it up at least half the time. Ethan looks good here, heisenberg does Not. I need better references of him. Seriously, if someone has a karl heisenberg folder on their phone with a crap ton of pictures of his face from different angles, PLEASE send me some. I need a clear one of him in profile. All the ones on google have his face obscured by his hat, glasses, both, and he's always in dark lighting. Ironic that the one who's face you never see has better reference pictures.

Kinda considering doing a GG animated for the moment where ethan's like "I just want to fix my daughter!" and arin (as heisenberg) says "uh, she's in four pieces," because it cracked me up so damn hard. His voice is so dumb. I love him.

This came outta nowhere but hahaha oh well, my interests change on the wings of the wind (wings of the wind = what the grumps are uploading)

[lostintransist]

Would love a continuation to your gym antics with maybe possibly Simon meeting Reader and seeing her deliver 23 psychic damage to every creep in the gym.

Then MAYBE they all realize that they’ve all been interested in (respectfully obsessed with) the same person (reader). They witness The Ultimate Douchebag Takedown and watch her do reps with said douchebag’s max weight with so much spark in her eyes. Then they see her be super sweet with a younger beginner or the gym’s dog that roams the shop or some shit

So sometimes stories get away from me and I couldn't figure out why they would all be at a public gym at the same time. My brain kept going, but if they are all together why wouldn't they be on base?? Anyway, my incessant need to answer the unspoken why has led us here. Enjoy! ☺️

If the damn desk jockeys would get off their asses and finish dealing with the fucking problem they would be able to go home. Two weeks in this hotel because the paper pushers wouldn’t approve something more than an economy room in a relatively cheap option. The core of Task Force 141, Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap were nearing blows.

Two queen beds made it hard for any of them to get enough space to stretch out. Everyone took turns rotating who shared with Soap. The man rolled. He didn’t just roll, he would cuddle and then end up sideways in the bed over whoever happened to be sharing with him. Made sleeping rough.

The piss-poor gym/pool set up on the first floor became an outlet for every man. They went in shifts. It wasn’t discussed so much as whoever was the closest to sending a brother through the wall between the bedrooms and the bathroom would nip out to run down their anger on the treadmill or splash laps in the pool.

Now due to the lack of overlapping none of the men knew they had their eye on the same bird. It wouldn’t have helped if they had known.

Price and Ghost ran into you more than once in the hot tub. They would slip into the chilly water and push until their muscles burned and then join you who read or watched something on your phone. Gaz and Soap found you on the treadmill singing quietly as you walked at a speedy clip. Every time the door opened to the gym you stopped singing.

Gaz spoke to you first.

“You can keep singing, don’t mind me. Feel free to turn up the volume on the music too.”

Instead of complying you laugh. Kyle stands near the door, arms folded as he squinted at all the equipment.

“Na, I get a bit shy. Thanks, though.” You offer a smile that is reflected in your eyes. “You here long?”

Gaz laughed through his nose, “Who knows? Trying to get home but the paperwork people at the job are apparently not in the same kind of rush.”

“You too? Damn. What is with them? Do they think I like sleeping on the cardboard they call a mattress?” The animation in your face pulls Gaz in. Bright expressions that show not an iota of mistrust or hiding something.

“They must not travel much for work or they would get us home faster huh?” He crosses the room and points to the treadmill next to you, “Mind if I join you?”

“Go right ahead,” you gesture at the machine. “Conversation would be a nice change.”

The two of you laughed through the last twenty or so minutes of your workout.

Price met you next.

He was one more stupid pun away from unloading his service weapon into his men. He had slammed into the muggy air of the pool room. Without even a glance around he stripped down to his speedo and stomped down the steps into the water. Fucking hotel pools were never deep enough for diving. Five laps and his shoulders burned enough to slow down. Pushing back against gravity he stood. Running a hand over his hair, face, and head, to clear some of the water he looked around for the first time.

There you were, eyes carving lines long his muscles from the hot tub.

“Need something, sweetheart?”

The time it takes you to drag your gaze from the water lapping at his stomach to his eyes sends chills down his spine.

“Na, just enjoying the view. Not often I get a strip tease by accident.”

Price couldn’t help but laugh. He had to have several years on you but the way you look at him has him wishing he were here alone.

“Sometimes a man forgets he might not be the only person in the pool.”

Snorting, you step back and sink lower into the bubbling water.

The bubbles dissipate as you become a floating head.

“Shit,” straightening you look to the wall where the timer is.

“If you don’t mind company I can fix that on my way over?” Price offers, lifting a brow and his cheeks in a smile.

“I would love some company, in fact,” you give him a sultry smile.

Since your face firmly tracks his motion up and out of the pool and to the timer by the time he steps into the heated water his cheeks are as red as his speedo. He is pruned when he finally leaves. You left twenty minutes before he could stand straight without the pressure of his speedo cutting the blood supply off to his everything.

Soap is neck deep in a maladaptive daydream about having a wife and three bairns screeching across the heath as the wind plucks at them when you enter the gym. He moved at a light jog. Feet falling lightly on the belt he isn’t breathing hard.

A clang and ringing of metal is enough to pull Soap back to his body. Glancing over he sees you wincing and pressing your massive water bottle to your chest to stop the metal from singing.

“All good over there?” He lifts both brows as his head tilts slightly.

Your tongue makes an appearance under your top lip as you push a lung full of air from your nose.

“Ever just have one of those days where the seconds take too long to pass?” You looked at him so earnestly that Soap reached out and slowed down to a walking pace.

“Too many damn times. Would a chat help reset the clock watching?”

The fight to keep from your face crumpling had Soap pulling out his threadbare handkerchief and passing it over.

“Time does tricky things to me too,” Soap offered softly.

You pressed the fabric to your nose and coughed to clear your throat and eyes.

“Thanks.” Sniffing you take a shaky breath, “Watching anything interesting lately?”

“Can’t sit still long enough for TV but been seeing the wildest one-person skits on my socials. Favorites have to be a girl’s group chat gone wild and an enemies-to-lovers story with family drama and an ex who won’t get out of the way.”

You light up, hand flying away from your face as you lean toward him.

“Oh my god! Do you think she is the other woman and that’s why she didn’t tell anyone what the hell was going on?”

The time is spent passing back and forth thoughts on stories more interesting than what writers’ rooms had put out in decades.

Ghost meets you last. Well. Yes, he was last but he didn’t really meet you so much as wake trying to avoid being smothered to death.

Falling asleep in the hot tub is not recommended. Even if he could keep his nose above water while sitting at the bottom of the small pool, he shouldn’t fall asleep. He had been the one to share a bed with Soap last night. Instead of swaddling the man like a newborn Ghost had given up on sleeping through the night. Haunted him now.

Eyes snapping open he glares up at you. His head is pinned between your hand and the floor. A quick external assessment tells him that his mask is still on, and the bubbles have stopped. He must have passed out hard.

“Hi,” you study both his eyes before blinking and taking in him. “Since you woke and have normal pupil reactions, I am going to assume you don’t need any naloxone?”

“No.”

“Okay.” The odd look you give him is overshadowed by your fingers sliding off his skin. Damn. Why did that feel so good? “Can you move your long ass legs then so I can enjoy some time in the water?”

Snapping into a sitting position Ghost curses the fact his ears are out. He gets pink in the tips of his ears when embarrassed.

“Sorry.” Ghost ran a hand through his short hair, surprised by the wetness there, “Didn’t sleep much last night.”

A jet caught him in the back. With a grunt he shifted. The pressure from the blasting water left his skin itching. The bubbles were nice though. Stretching his arms along the curve of the tiles he notices your eyes follow his wingspan.

“Do they even make beds big enough for you here?” You question as you step in with a hiss and hand clutching the balance bar.

He doesn’t know why he replies. He isn’t normally this chatty. The lack of sleep must be stealing away his senses and filling him up with a bevy of words.

“I’m not that big.”

You sit across from him. He can feel the drift of your legs in the water above his where they stretch along the bottom.

The glance you send him lands somewhere particular, even with the barrier of the moving water. A slow bob of your head and the lift of your brows accompany your disbelieving tone.

“Must have been the water distortion.”

“Lots of things about me are distorted,” Ghost mutters.

The sputtering laugh you let out has you covering it up with a cough.

“That was terrible. Are all of your jokes that bad?”

“Worse.”

“Ooh, honesty. Well then, let’s hear them?”

Ghost narrows his eyes at you as he tells you the tank joke.

“I see your tank joke and raise you one of my own; two soldiers are in a tank; one looks at the other and says blub.” The waggling of your brows is what tipped him over the edge into snorting.

Back and forth it went until you rub your fingertips together and proclaim yourself cooked. With a smile and a nod you disappear. Ghost spends far too long staring at the ceiling thinking about your hands on him.

They run into you day after day after day. Sometimes in the coffee shop within walking distance or a cafe. But they always run into you alone and never mention you to the others. When orders finally arrive that they can return home each man searched the building over twice looking for you. No luck.

Check-out runs smoothly, leaving them loitering with their gunny sacks in a pile by the complimentary couches and chairs in the lobby. Was there an actual purpose for these couches other than decoration? No one ever seemed to use them. This was the discussion happening between the men that seemed to conveniently forget that their asses sat on the decorations.

Ghost’s eyes widening have everyone looking.

There you are. Backpack over on shoulder and a small suitcase wheeling

Not one of them is confident enough to approach you with the others watching. That leaves all of them waiting and hoping you stop and say hello and here is my number before goodbye.

“Thanks! I had a good stay,” your voice carries over your shoulder to them. Each man tightens up like they were about to breach a building.

Turning a saccharine smile settles on your face as your eyes connect to each man in turn. Striding up to the chair placed neatly between the two couches they sat on you settle both hands on the back, the luggage near your leg.

“Gentlemen, thank you for making the say endurable. I will be sending your warmest regards to Colonel König when I get back to base.” Lifting your hand to your forehead you flick them a bastardized salute and stride out the front door.

The only sound following your pronouncement is the ringing of the phone behind the front desk.

“Did we get fucking honey potted?” Gaz looks at Price, aghast.

“It’s only honey potting if you spill state secrets,” Soap chimes in as he pops his neck slowly.

“Says the man who has been honey-potted before,” Ghost snarked, fingers digging into the weave of his jeans.

“It wasn’t Soap,” Price mutters as his fingers begin to work his mustache, “That John wasn’t SAS.”

“Wait,” Soap looks at each of them with a sharp gaze. “She got all of us? How the hell did she manage that?”

“Looks like KorTac has gotten a better hiring manager,” Price slaps his hands to his thighs, standing. “We will not be discussing this again.”

A chorus of ‘agreed’ and they consider the matter closed.

And other than the time they run into you in the field, that is.

SoapGaz | John Price | Simon | Phillip Graves | Ghost | SoapGaz/Reader NSFW | Phillip Graves NSFW | AO3

Masterlist

[kaayyyys]

Hey there! I would like to ask for a request? I was wondering if you could do a Daryl angst. So it’s set in the prison because I like just like Daryl when they were back there. (Sorry for my bad English, it’s not my first language) so what I was thinking is that fem reader has a crush on Daryl so she’s always like around him and wanting to help him especially after they left Merle on the roof. Daryl then lashed out at her for being too clingy and needy which she then tearfully apologised and started avoiding him, when he’s around her, she would lower her head and scurried away from him. He felt bad for lashing out at her so he planned on apologising when she came back from a supply run but when she did came back, she is unconscious (or dead, up to you :3) because they were attacked by a random group, Rick held her in his arms while yelling for Hershel. The rest I’ll leave it to you, tag me if you’re finished. Thank you!❤️

Oh my god . I absolutely love this request. Sorry it took so long I wanted this to be as good as I could .

@yanokokuboo

Would you like a part two ?

The prison loomed against the Georgia sky, a stark monument to survival in a world overrun. Inside, amidst the ever-present tension and the ghosts of the fallen, a different kind of battle was being fought – the silent, internal struggle of a heart yearning for a connection it wasn’t sure it deserved. (Y/N) watched Daryl Dixon from across the yard, her gaze drawn to the lean strength of his form as he sharpened arrows, his brow perpetually furrowed in concentration. She’d admired him from afar since they’d arrived, captivated by his quiet intensity, his unwavering loyalty, and the aura of untamed wildness that clung to him.

After Merle had been left on that rooftop in Atlanta, something inside Daryl had seemed to break. He became even more withdrawn, more guarded. (Y/N), her heart aching for him, found herself drawn to his side, offering silent support, a comforting presence in the storm raging within him. She’d bring him water, offer to clean his crossbow, or simply sit nearby, mending clothes, the quiet rhythm of her needle a counterpoint to the turmoil radiating from him.

She knew he was a loner, a man who preferred the company of silence and the hunt to the chatter of others. But she hoped, foolishly perhaps, that her presence was a comfort, a small flicker of light in his darkness. She’d seen glimpses of a softer side – the way he protected Carol, the gruff tenderness he showed to Judith. Maybe, just maybe, she could break through the walls he’d built so high, brick by painful brick.

One sweltering afternoon, after a particularly grueling scavenging run, (Y/N) found Daryl cleaning his crossbow in the shade of the watchtower. She approached hesitantly, offering him a canteen of water. "Here," she said softly, "you must be thirsty."

Daryl snatched the canteen, his movements jerky, his eyes dark. He took a long swig, then slammed the canteen down on the concrete. "Why are you always around?" he growled, his voice rough. "You're like a damn shadow, always followin' me. I don't need babysitting."

The words hit (Y/N) like a physical blow. The air in her lungs seemed to evaporate, leaving her gasping for breath. She stared at him, bewildered and hurt. "I… I just wanted to help," she stammered, her voice trembling.

"Help?" He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. "I don't need your help! I don't need anyone's help! Just leave me alone!"

The anger in his voice was like a physical force, pushing her back, shrinking her spirit. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. This wasn’t the Daryl she’d imagined, the one she’d built up in her heart. This was a raw, wounded animal, lashing out in pain.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the words catching in her throat. "I... I didn't mean to bother you."

Turning, she fled, the tears streaming down her face, a silent testament to her shattered hopes. She didn't stop running until she reached her cell, collapsing on the thin mattress, the sobs wracking her body.

From that day forward, (Y/N) made a conscious effort to avoid Daryl. The hurt was too raw, the rejection too painful. She still admired him, still cared for him, but she couldn't bear to be near him, to risk another outburst, another shattering of her fragile heart. She focused on helping the others, tending to the garden, learning to defend herself. She tried to bury her feelings deep, to convince herself that what she felt for Daryl was just a fleeting infatuation, a silly crush.

Days turned into weeks. The prison life settled into a grim routine. (Y/N) noticed Daryl watching her, his gaze lingering longer than necessary. She saw a flicker of something in his eyes – regret, perhaps? – but she quickly looked away, unwilling to reopen the wound he’d inflicted.

Daryl, meanwhile, was wrestling with his own demons. He’d pushed (Y/N) away, lashed out at her kindness, and the guilt was eating at him. He saw her helping others, her laughter echoing in the yard, but her eyes never met his. She was polite, distant, a ghost of the girl who had once shadowed him with quiet devotion. He missed her presence, the unspoken understanding that had passed between them. He missed her.

He knew he had to apologize. He had to tell her he hadn’t meant to hurt her, that his anger was a reflection of his own inner turmoil, not a judgment of her. He planned to talk to her when she returned from the next supply run, to swallow his pride and beg for her forgiveness.

(Y/N) volunteered for the supply run, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the prison, to breathe fresh air, to feel the sun on her skin. She walked alongside Glenn and Maggie, the familiar weight of her rifle a comfort. The run was uneventful, but the emotional toll of the past weeks had taken its toll. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

On the way back, they were ambushed. A small group, desperate and crazed, emerged from the woods, brandishing knives and makeshift weapons. Glenn and Maggie fought bravely, but (Y/N), weakened and distracted, was quickly overwhelmed. She screamed as one of the attackers pinned her to the ground, the harsh fabric of his clothes scraping against her skin.

Hours stretched into an eternity. As dusk began to settle, casting long shadows across the prison yard, the gate creaked open. But it wasn't you who stumbled through. It was Rick, his face grim, his arms cradling a limp figure.

A strangled gasp escaped Daryl's lips as he recognized you. Your face was bruised and bloodied, your clothes torn. You were unconscious, your breathing shallow and ragged. Tears streamed down your face even in your sleep.

“Hershel!” Rick bellowed, his voice laced with panic. “Get Hershel, now!”

A wave of nausea washed over Daryl. He pushed through the gathering crowd, his heart pounding in his chest. What happened? Who did this to you? He saw the torn fabric of your shirt, the angry welts on your arms, and a white-hot rage ignited within him.

"What the hell happened?" Daryl roared, his voice a feral snarl. He grabbed a nearby survivor by the collar, his grip tight. "Who did this to her?"

The survivor stammered, "They… they were ambushed. A group of them… tried to take their supplies."

Daryl shoved him aside, his eyes fixed on your still form in Rick's arms. "Damn it!" he screamed, the raw anguish tearing through him. "Damn it all to hell!"

He watched as Hershel rushed forward, his face etched with concern. They gently lowered you onto a makeshift cot in the infirmary. Daryl hovered, his body trembling with a mixture of fear and fury.

"Get out of the way, Daryl," Rick ordered, his voice firm. "Hershel needs room to work."

"No!" Daryl refused, his voice defiant. "I ain't goin' nowhere."

He watched as Hershel examined your wounds, his movements swift and efficient. The silence in the room was broken only by your labored breathing and the occasional murmur from Hershel.

Daryl felt a wave of guilt wash over him, so potent it almost brought him to his knees. He had pushed you away, rejected your kindness, and now… now you were lying here, broken and bleeding. He had been so consumed by his own pain that he hadn't seen the danger lurking around you. He had failed to protect you.

"This is my fault," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "All my fault."

Rick placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip surprisingly gentle. "Don't do that, Daryl. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was!" Daryl snapped, shaking off Rick's hand. "I should have… I should have been there. I should have protected her."

He paced the small room, his frustration building with each passing moment. “Why wasn’t I there? Why did I let her go on that run?”

He knew, deep down, that his anger wasn't directed at Rick or Hershel or even the scavengers who had attacked you. It was directed at himself. He had pushed you away, silenced his growing feelings, and now he might lose you.

As Hershel continued to work, Daryl remained by your side, his eyes never leaving your face. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, his fingers trembling. He didn't know what the future held, but one thing was certain: he wouldn't let you go again. He would protect you, even if it meant facing his own demons head-on. He would spend the rest of his days trying to earn your forgiveness, to prove that he was worthy of your love. He just needed you to wake up

[kyumisyumi]

HI!!! Love your work!!

Is it possible for you to write a fic where the monster is just too big for the reader but the monster is in rut or some sort of overbearing horniness so they coax the reader open to be able to take all of them

So sorry this took forever, life was life-ing. Job hunting and the works. Happy I could finally finish my first request here.

Warning: nsfw tags: heat, double penetration, fisting-ish, we're all just animals at the end of the day

Ship: Naga x Reader (F)

Word count: 800+ words

⊱⊶Taking requests⊷⊰

You were so good for him. Always so good; wet and soft and absolutely divine. He never mind that you couldn't take both of his cocks, just having one in you was enough to drive him damn near feral. His mind threatening to slip into an animalistic haze begging him to fuck you until every last drop of energy -and cum-  in him was gone. Now, however, things were different. The season's arrival brought with it the an aphrodisiac than burned inside his veins. The overwhelming need to breed you - and breed you proper- was pushing him beyond reason. Beyond thought even. His ears filled with the ringing of need and the only thing that could pierce it was the sweet sounds of your moans.

"Please." You didn't even know what you were begging for. For him to stop? For him to start? He'd been fucking you with his fingers for what felt like eons. His long, firm digits sliding in you effortlessly as their tips pressed against the spongy little spot that seemed to disconnect your brain. Your thighs and the plush sheets beneath were absolutely drenched in slick leaking out of your swollen cunt. You didn't even know how you got here; one moment you were tending to the houseplants that sat by the living room window, the next moment you were being pulled into a tight reptilian coil. One blink later; your clothes were gone and a long, forked tongue was tasting you.

You cursed as his fingers pulled wider and wider, finally letting in the fifth digit. Your back arched as he slowly pushed forward with his whole arm. You could feel your insides mold to the shape of his muscles. Did you just come? Your senses were absolutely fried from overstimulation. But the pulsing of your walls eventually caught up to you, bringing with it the jolts of pleasure that wracked your whole body. Pretty little tears began to spill from your eyes again as you searched for him through blurry vision. So weak and overwhelmed that you needed the visage of him for comfort. Your brain didn't care that he was the one causing it.

His eyes almost glowed as he peered down at you, the once thin slits of his pupils expanded, almost fully concealing the color. He looked mad. The pearly whites of his eyes tinted red along the edges. Bloodshot. He was lost. He looked as if he hadn't blinked in years, as if even the milliseconds it would take to close his lids were too long to not look at you.

"Are you ready for me, Love?" He spoke for the first time in ages. Voice raspy, dry, as though all moisture had been sucked from him. "Of course you are." He answered, with zero input from you, not that you could even muster words at this point. "So fucking perfect." He pulled his hand out of you. His eyes finally left you to look at the glistening moisture that covered it then at your thoroughly abused hole. His forked tongue absentmindedly licked your taste off his fingers. He began muttering to himself. Your concern for his sanity grew. You could barely hear his words; praises and coos for you. Thanking the Gods for bringing you to him. Making you for him.

When he raised himself on his tail you could see the leaking tips of his engorged members. Both of them pressing against his abdomen, twitching as though they were ready to spill seed at any moment. He positioned himself between your trembling thighs, one hand squeezing both cocks together. You'd yet to realize his intentions before you felt the dual tips slip into you. You opened your mouth to say something. What? Again, you weren't sure. But when he slowly began to push himself further and further inside you your vocal chords released a ferine moan.  You could feel your walls stretch to hold him, like a fulfilling pressure rather than the straining pain you'd expected. That scared you so much you never tried prior. He lowered himself over you, elbows bent on either side of your limp form. His eyes refocused, studying every minute movement of your face.

There was no patience in him, all of it spent. He'd bottomed out in you before you'd even realised it. His hips smashing against your pelvis with a loud groan. His chest pressed into yours with every breath. He'd give you a moment and only a moment before the thrusting began. You'd felt full before but it couldn't compare to what you feel now. The raw connection of having him inside you; not his fingers, not his tongue, not his hand but his manhood sheathed within you where it belonged. Nothing felt more right, it was both intoxicating and sobering. Pleasure would always be pleasure but this was something more.

You were reduced to cries and mewls as you both devolved into animals.

[brenwritesss]

𝐓𝐫𝐮 𝐅𝐫𝐮 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

⋆˚࿔Paige Bueckers x reader ❀˖°

Summary: You see Paige after the livestream happened and the two of you get closer.

(Semi-sexual content ahead.)

It had been a couple weeks since you had gone to Paige’s place and the livestream happened. Since then, it had been awkward between you and Paige, considering you didn’t really know each other and now you were trending on social media. Paige had texted you multiple times, apologizing and you had to reassure her that it was okay. At first, you didn’t see it as a big deal since no one really saw your face. However, you didn’t really understand just how popular she was until you started seeing edits starting with an intro of the video of you and Paige on her bed. 

Paige and you really haven’t hung out since then, her being busy with basketball and traveling while you were trying to finish all your studies.

Currently, you were in your room trying to finish an assignment for one of your classes when a text notification popped up on your phone beside you. It was from Paige.

Yo can I come over?

Immediately texting back, you replied with a “sure” along with your dorm number. This is the first time she would ever be over at your dorm and you couldn’t help but feel nervous.

You took the time to clean up your room a little, putting away your homework and picking up any dishes or cups that were in your room.

A knock disrupted you. Walking over to the door, you let out a breath and opened it. “Hey,” Paige said, looking at you with her hands in her back pocket. She was wearing a UConn jacket and sweatpants.

“Hey,” you replied. “Come in.” You moved out of the way so that she could come in. Paige walked in and you shut the door.

“I know I keep apologizing but I’m so sorry for the whole livestream situation.”

You let out a small laugh and led Paige into your room. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s all good. It’s not like they know who I am. If anything, I’m sorry that it’s trending and you have to deal with this sort of stuff.”

Paige felt relieved in your response, as if weight was lifted off her shoulders. She sat down on your bed, grabbing one of your stuffed animals near your pillow and fiddled with it. “It’s actually really refreshing to hear you say that.”

“Really?” You sat down beside her.

Paige looked at you, her clear-framed glasses sitting perfectly on the bridge of her nose. Her hair was in a low bun and she had on a beanie. All you wanted to do was lean over and kiss her, but you had to restrain yourself. “Yeah,” she said, “a lot of people don’t really think about how this kind of stuff affects us.”

You rubbed your hands on your thighs. “Well people should. I mean I get y’all are supposed to be like celebrities but you’re still human.”

Paige smiled at you, her eyes squinting in response. You thought the “eye-smile” she did was the cutest thing ever. It made you want to melt on the spot. Damn, you were starting to fall for her. “Thank you for saying that.”

It seemed like a long moment of just staring into each other’s eyes. When you and Paige had hung out in her room, moments like this had happened but this was different. Like the two of you were actually seeing each other for the first time. The sexual tension between the two of you had changed into something more emotional. And it intrigued you, making you want more. It made her want more too. However, it was a little overwhelming as this hasn’t happened to you in a while.

Paige’s eyes didn’t leave yours as she very slowly started to lean in, her face inching closer towards yours. A sudden bolt of fear shot through you and you turned your head away, making Paige look at you confused. You began saying, “so, how’s basketball been go-”

“Y/n.” Paige’s voice cut you off. Hearing your name coming from her mouth sent shivers down your spine.

You didn’t look at her. “Yeah?”

“Look at me,” she spoke softly, her fingers coming up to your chin as she gently turned your head allowing you to both make eye contact again. She let go of your chin, leaving behind cold marks that made you long to feel her touch. “I feel things for you.”

“What kind of things?” you asked.

She slowly laced her fingers with yours, smiling. “I think you’re incredibly beautiful and I like the way we talk to each other. And when the live happened, I felt so bad, you have no idea. All I wanted to do was apologize to you. I realized that I want to get to know you more and that I like you.”

“You like me?”

“If it isn’t obvious already.”

“I feel the same way. You have this energy that draws me to you.” You held onto her hand and you could feel her leaning closer to you.

There was a small moment of silence before she spoke, “can I,” she started, “can I try something and you won’t freak out?”

“Depends.”

Paige chuckled. “Just trust me.”

You didn’t say anything as you waited for Paige to do something. She took your silence as permission to lean forward, lifting one of her hands up to your cheek. As she pulled your face toward hers, you felt fear but also excitement, as you had wanted to kiss her for a while but never had the courage to.

Paige closed the distance between the two of you as it started off slow, the both of you moving in sync. Something ignited in Paige that made her pick up the pace, her hand dropping from your face to your waist and pulling you closer to her body. The sudden movement resulted in a small groan from you which made Paige’s heart beat faster and her mind start racing. 

As the pace quickened, you grabbed her face, pulling yourself up from your seated position and straddled her lap. “Fuck,” Paige spoke against your lips, her hands running up and down your waist, sending shivers throughout your body as if her touch was electric.

“Paige,” you whispered softly into her and moved your mouth from hers to her neck, eliciting a small moan from her lips.

“Say,” she tried speaking in between moans. “Say my name again, princess.”

She could feel you smiling against her neck as you muttered, “Paige.”

“Holy fuck,” she breathes out. “Hearing you say my name is so hot.”

“Yeah?” You pull yourself away from her neck, taking a moment to admire the small marks you made along her neck.

Paige’s hands found themselves under your shirt, caressing the skin underneath. You melted into her touch. “I think this needs to be off,” she said, tugging at the fabric.

You pulled off her beanie that she was still wearing, throwing it to the side of your bed and then unzipping her jacket. She watched your every move, biting her lip as she admired you. “Only if this comes off.”

“Deal.” She let you take off her jacket which resulted in her pulling your shirt off, leaving her in a t-shirt and you in your bra. You both pulled each other closer at the same time, lips finding the other’s as you moaned into her mouth.

This time, she pulled away from you and found your neck. She sucked and softly bit down on your skin, leaving patches of red along your neck as she moved down towards your chest.

She flipped you onto your back, kissing up and down your chest and stomach, creating the softest sounds from you. “Paige, please.”

She looked up at you. “Please what, baby?”

You huffed, trying to find your voice. “I need you.”

“Where do you want me? Show me.” You grabbed her hands, guiding them down to your shorts, putting her fingers on the zipper. She unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts and pulled them off your body, taking in the sight before her. You suddenly felt self-conscious in her gaze but the way she let her hands slide up and down your thighs made you realize that you had nothing to worry about. 

Paige slid her fingers up your inner thighs and found themselves at your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me already, aren’t you?”

You shuddered at her touch, rolling your eyes back. “Paige, don’t make me wait.”

Paige smirked, moving her thumb in a slow circle, making you throw your head back. “Tell me how much you want me,” she said, her voice so deep it made the tension between you two thicker.

“I want-”

Paige’s phone went off, a call coming through. You sighed, frustration replacing that needy feeling you were embracing. Paige noticeably angry, took her fingers away from you and picked up her phone. “Fucking hell.”

You missed her touch and all you could think about was her fingers back on you, and the way she held your body. The way her hands fit your body. Paige answered the phone, “What do you need? I’m busy right now.”

“What do you mean we have practice right now?”

“Fuck, okay. Shit, why is he pissed?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there just give me a minute.”

She ended the phone and looked at you, an unreadable expression on her face. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. Coach is pissed for some reason and we had a practice that I forgot about so I have to go.”

You nodded, clearly frustrated while putting your shirt back on. “It’s fine. You’re all good.”

She moved toward you, kissing your forehead before grabbing her jacket. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You looked up at her. “Yeah, you better.”

She chuckled, grabbing your chin gently and kissing you. “You’re doing something to me, Y/n.”

[meganegatari]

how soon is now? | part two

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

previous chapter. series masterlist.

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!

♧:5.7k word count (lawd)

◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!

4 months later 

Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not. 

Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.

You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual. 

Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.  

The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.

You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.

The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now. 

She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.

“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.

Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.

She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up. 

You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.

As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?

Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.

Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.

But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.

You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.

Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks. 

You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.

Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.

She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.

“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.

There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her. 

You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.

She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.

“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with. 

“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.” 

You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile. 

Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.” 

She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”

“He died last year.” Oof.

“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”

“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face. 

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.” 

And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register. 

She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals. 

Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.

The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.

While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”

You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed. 

Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”

Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.

You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could. 

Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow. 

A couple days later.

Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience. 

You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies. 

To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?

You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.

In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future. 

Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard. 

But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone. 

Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission. 

Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.

Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.

Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as  well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?

The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself. 

You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course. 

Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire. 

The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.

Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder. 

The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.

You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.

The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.

You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything. 

Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.

Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be? 

The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?

The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.

You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you. 

You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.

Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because. 

Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.

Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now. 

Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil. 

Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?” 

She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”

Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?” 

You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point. 

The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over. 

You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often. 

She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously. 

Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.

To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?

Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.

Smooch.

You kissed her. 

Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment. 

She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now. 

Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears. 

She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.” 

An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.

The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.” 

Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time. 

You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed. 

The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever. 

Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?

You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.

You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.

But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.

You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Meanwhile on your bedside table:

Bzz, bzz, bzz. 

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[27spoons]

When We Are Together | Natalie Scatorccio

summary: y'all remember that one episode in s1 where nat and tr*vis make out in the plane? word. what if it was gay and YOU instead of him?

pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

warnings: drug use (marijuana), kissing, mostly just fluff idk, reader being a simp with like zero experience

wc: 1770

ao3

"Fucking nothing out here." You grumble as you step over some underbrush, Natalie following close behind. 

"Yeah, well, not exactly like we can just… conjure up a deer or something." She gestures to nothing as she speaks, kicking a rock. "But if I hear one of them saying some shit about us not bringing back food one more goddamn time…" She doesn't finish the thought, but she doesn't have to. You know exactly what she's saying.

"Yeah, well, I'd like to fucking see Jackie do this shit. She'd probably squeal at the first sight of blood." You scoff, "Or wouldn't even be able to kill the fucking animal because "it's too cute!" or some shit." You shoot Nat an easy grin, and… damn. The grin she flashes back at you almost has you walking into a tree.

"Dude." Nat laughs as she walks past you, "You're so easy." But there's no malice behind the words, just that teasing tone you've come to adore in the past… however long you've been out here. You're sure someone is keeping a calendar, but you honestly couldn't give a fuck at this point. All you know is that you're stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"Yeah, well… whatever." You murmur as you catch up to her, trying to hide the fact you are definitely blushing.

Nat laughs again. God, you love her laugh. Have you always been this big of a simp?

"Why are we here?" You cock an eyebrow as the two of you come up to the crash site, "Preeeeeeeeeeeetty sure we cleaned out the plane of food, like, forever ago."

"Nah. Not here to hunt. Figured we could use a little break, if that's alright with you?" She spares you a look over her shoulder, that soft, teasing grin still plastered on her face. "Because I'm so sure you're just… eager to get back out there and hunt for absolutely nothing."

You roll your eyes with a sarcastic scoff, "You know me so well. I'm just… itching to walk through an empty forest for the next eight hours."

"Yeah, there's the spirit." She says as she ducks into the plane's cabin, "C'mon. I might have a joint left over."

You whistle at that, "Damn, Scatorccio. You sure know how to get a lady going. Think I would have sold my soul for a quarter gram a few days back."

Nat huffs as she sits down on the plane floor with a grunt and opens up her backpack. "What can I say? One of my many charms." She fishes out a plastic bag with a crumpled joint inside of it, but honestly? The joint could have been literally falling apart at the first touch and you would probably still find a way to smoke it.

"That might just be the most beautiful thing I have seen in my entire life." You eye the joint as she brings it to her lips, sparking the lighter to life. The end of the smoke flickers orange as it burns.

You catch yourself staring at her lips again—too long, definitely too long. Your throat tightens as the memory of that kiss against the tree creeps in. You glance away, hoping she doesn’t notice, but the heat rising in your face gives you away.

"Oh, c'mon." Nat drawls as she exhales, "Don't be like that. C'mere." She takes another hit and leans in, gently grabbing your jaw and coaxing your mouth open.

You inhale the smoke she exhales. And… damn, is it delicious. Arguably better than it would have been if you just took the hit yourself.

But, before you can do anything else, Nat is leaning back with a low chuckle and bringing the joint back to her lips, "So easy." You roll your eyes and flip her off, which earns a giggle from her. 

Yes, an actual giggle. Which, of course, only makes you smile wider.

If anyone had told you you'd be giggling with Natalie Scatorccio in the cabin of a wrecked plane, smoking a joint, and doing things that friends do not do, you probably wouldn't have believed them. Would have been a nice thought, yes, but you wouldn't have believed them. It's not that you and Nat never got along; you two just never hung out outside of stuff with the team. You had heard the rumours about her, who hadn't, but you never cared all too much. After all, what business is it of yours what she does with her free time? She played soccer well enough and seemed like a good enough person.

Now that you've gotten to know her, however? Well, you were right. She is a good person; she just hides it under layer after layer of defences built up over the years. A part of you wishes you knew why she has all these walls, but you figure she'll tell you when she's ready. You're happy enough just doing it is whatever the two of you are doing right now.

A whistle cuts you out of your thoughts, "You in there?" Nat chuckles, holding the joint out, "I asked if you wanted a hit, Princess."

"Princess?" You scoff and grab the joint from her, brushing your fingers against hers (maybe on purpose. maybe not.) as you take it. "Thought that title was reserved for Jackie." You inhale the smoke, and… damn. You needed that. You really needed that. You fucking missed weed. It's slightly stale, but you'll take it. On the exhale, you let out a low laugh, "Goddamn, Nat. Now that is good shit." It really isn't. It's ditch weed. That's fine, though. You'll take anything.

"Oh, Jackie is a princess. You're just Princess. There's a difference, y'know." She shoots you that same easy grin as she takes the joint back from you, "With you? Compliment, yeah? With Jackie?" She shrugs and takes another pull; then her grin shifts to something slightly cockier as she realises that you're still staring at her lips, like a lovestruck fool.

Nat gives you a long look, eyes narrowing scarcely. She leans forward slightly, and when you don't budge, she keeps the smoke in her mouth and moves to straddle your waist, resting her arms on your shoulders. She gives you this look, and you part your lips for her to exhale a steady stream of smoke into.

Once you exhale the smoke this time, she doesn't pull back. She remains close to your face, sitting on your lap, her eyes half-lidded. A part of you wants to say it's the weed, but you know you're lying to yourself. There's a non-zero chance she's stoned from this; probably just a gentle buzz, if anything at all.

"Hi." You say with a sheepish grin, which earns another one of those delicious giggles from Natalie.

She laughs, low and soft, her breath warm on your cheek. “Hi.” Her voice is quieter now, gentler, but it carries that same teasing lilt that always makes you want to roll your eyes and smile at the same time. "This is okay, yeah?"

"Yeah. Yes. For sure." You mumble out a little too quickly to be passed off as smooth.

"So easy," Nat repeats for the third time, that damn easy grin on her face still.

A beat of silence passes, and you just stare at her, like a dumbass. The cabin creaks ominously around the two of you as you do. Do you kiss her? She had to have climbed into your lap for a reason, right? She wouldn't do it if it were just for shits and—

"And so stupid." Nat murmurs, and then she's kissing you. It's soft and slow, and it makes something warm flutter in your chest. You feel your face flush as you kiss her, but you also feel yourself smile softly into the kiss. You bring your hands up to cup her face and remember what she told you earlier, "Stop overthinking about what you're doing and just do it. It's not like you're doing rocket science. You're just kissing." So, you try and do just that. You kiss her a little more aggressively, and-

She's trying so hard not to laugh right now.

"Sorry." You mumble out as you pull back slightly, to which she shakes her head quickly and brings the almost-gone joint back to her lips, taking one more hit. 

"It's cool. You're just… aggressive." She exhales the smoke away from the two of you before placing the last of the joint between your lips. "Just… slow down, yeah? Not a race. Not like I'm going anywhere right now."

You take the hit, then snuff the roach of the joint out on the cabin floor. "Yeah," You murmur, "Yeah." You keep one of your hands on her cheek as you lean back in to kiss her, slower and less aggressive. Your other hand drifts down to her waist, which you think is the right idea, until she's fighting another giggle, which causes you to pull back… again.

"Sorry, sorry. That just… It tickles." She gives you an apologetic grin and doesn't stop you when you move to kiss her again.

You wrap the arm that had the hand on her waist around the small of her back and try to lay her down on the ground, which earns a soft humming sound from her, which you really like, and it's going well…

Until her head meets the sharp corner of a broken tray table, the dull thunk cutting through the moment like a poorly timed punchline.

Smooth.

"Ow." Nat murmurs as you pull back off her and try not to pout at your lack of suaveness. You don't outwardly complain about it, but Nat sees you trying to keep a calm face all the same. "Hey, come on. Who hasn't rolled over a broken tray table while making out in a blood-stained death trap?" She chuckles, which quickly turns into a giggle, making you giggle. It also displays her dimples, which… yeah, you like—a lot.

She moves to straddle your waist again, knees on either side of your thighs. One of her hands rests on your shoulder while the other comes to thread through your hair. "You're a really good kisser, you know?" Her expression becomes slightly more serious, "I don't wanna go back yet. Do you?"

You shake your head with an "Mm-mm" sound, and she's leaning down to kiss you again—slow and tender—just like before.

Why the hell didn’t you talk to her before the crash, again? Maybe you needed the end of the world to finally get it right.

a/n: natalie is a girlkisser and i will not be taking questions on that statement

I hate s1 tr*vis with a burning passion. s2 travis I can fuck with. sometimes.

[setaretjd]

Mikey X Reader Three Stages of His Life

A One-Shot of Sano Manjiro from Three Stages of His Life:

Childhood Mikey, Vegetative State Mikey, and Toman Mikey.

The one-shot about his vegetative state contains spoilers from the manga. If you haven’t read the manga yet, feel free to skip that part and enjoy the other two without worry.

I’ll soon be posting one-shots from the next three stages too—Future Toman, Manila Mikey, and Bonten Mikey—so don’t lose me if you’re excited to keep reading!

The characters of Mikey and the others belong to Wakui-sensei from the anime Tokyo Revengers.

Other Oneshots:

Izana X You X Ran (Izana is ypur toxic bf)

Toxic Relationship with Members of the Bonten

Sukuna X Reader (Past Life)

Childhood Mikey

You had been training at Mikey’s grandfather’s judo dojo since you were a child.

Day after day, the two of you sparred together—pushing, falling, rising again.

And every now and then, you were one of the rare few who could manage to throw him to the mat.

That alone was enough to make his blood boil.

Being beaten—even occasionally—by a foreign girl who still butchered Japanese with a clumsy accent?

Unacceptable.

There were days when Baji, wide-eyed and half-joking, would pull you aside and beg for your "secret technique"—the one that could bring Mikey down.

And without fail, Mikey would snap.

Red-faced, he'd shove Baji away, yelling curses and storming off like a child denied his favorite toy.

But you didn’t mind.

In fact, there was something weirdly... satisfying about seeing him that worked up.

The day your parents failed to pick you up—too wrapped up in their business meetings and obligations—the one who stepped in was none other than Grandpa Sano.

Kind and gentle, he simply took your hand and brought you home with him.

Mikey didn’t say a word the entire time.

At dinner, he sat stiffly across from you, silent as ever, barely hiding the way he glared at your chopsticks—more specifically, how you still couldn’t use them right.

Shinichiro was warm, offering you more rice with a smile.

Emma, sweet as always, asked bluntly, “How could your parents just leave you like that?”

You had no answer.

Because deep down, you already knew: your parents cared more about their reputation, their status, their careers—than they ever had about you.

It was humiliating.

And the worst part? Sitting there in the Sano home, surrounded by a family that was everything yours wasn’t: close, warm, loving.

Later that night, you found yourself sitting in Mikey’s room—his old room, not Shinichiro’s.

Cross-legged on the floor, you glanced around at the shelves, the scattered manga, the half-finished model kits.

You: “It’s small, but cute... kinda like your house.”

He was sprawled on the bed, flipping lazily through a magazine.

Mikey: “Hm.”

Curious, you leaned forward and snatched the magazine right out of his hands.

You: “Oh my God, Manjiro—are you seriously reading this crap? That’s disgusting.”

His face turned bright red as he snatched it back.

Mikey: “Can you just shut up and sit there quietly until your forgetful family finally decides to show up?”

Your voice dropped, a whisper barely above the silence.

You: “They’re not coming...”

That made him pause.

Mikey: “What?”

You exhaled, long and slow, before laying down on the futon they had set up for you.

You: “They never planned to. They told me I was supposed to go to my grandmother’s, but... she doesn’t really want me either. She just tolerates me.”

You pulled the blanket over your head, trying to disappear beneath it.

A quiet puff left your lips, frustration leaking out in that one breath.

Then—footsteps.

The bed creaked as he got up, then the blanket slowly peeled back.

He sat beside you, looking unsure, awkward, maybe even a little guilty.

Mikey: “So... they’re—”

You (cutting him off): “Getting divorced.”

He looked away, muttering under his breath.

Mikey: “...Damn it.”

She pulled the blanket over her head again.

“I said you can sleep. I won’t bother you,” Mikey muttered, turning away and heading back to his bed.

The room fell into silence, broken only by the soft rhythm of her breathing, almost too quiet to notice. Twenty minutes passed. Mikey lay in bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling, but all he could hear was her.

“Hey... [Your Name],” he called out softly.

No answer.

“You really asleep?”

Still silence.

He sat up slowly, then got to his feet and padded across the floor. Crouching beside her, he placed his hands on either side of her face, caging her in without touching.

"God... you're so ugly," he whispered under his breath—almost like a defense mechanism against the tight, unfamiliar feeling twisting in his chest.

But it didn’t go away. In fact, it pulled him in closer.

He leaned down, hesitating just inches from her face. Her breaths brushed his skin, warm and steady. For a moment, he just stayed there, eyes searching a face that somehow looked softer in sleep.

“How do people even do this...?” he whispered.

Then, with the gentleness of someone doing it for the very first time, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to hers. It was awkward, clumsy—completely unskilled. But real. One hand found her cheek, brushing her skin lightly before he pulled away.

Without a word, he laid down beside her on the futon, heart pounding out of rhythm. His hands were damp with nervous sweat, but he didn’t move. Just pulled the blanket higher over her and stared at the ceiling in the dark.

---

The next morning, Shinichiro opened the door to check on them and paused at the sight. [Your Name] was curled in Mikey’s arms like she belonged there.

He raised a brow and crossed his arms, smirking faintly. Huh. Maybe the kid’s doing better with girls than I ever did.

“Hey, Mikey. [Your Name]. Wake up!” he called, loud enough to rattle the windows. “Breakfast’s ready!”

At the table, conversation was sparse. Only Emma and [Your Name] exchanged words. Mikey sat in silence, stealing glances at her from under his lashes as he ate like nothing happened.

Later, when her mother finally came—furious about her not going to her grandmother’s—[Your Name] stood in front of the Sano family to say her goodbyes.

She hugged Emma tightly, bowed to Shinichiro and Grandpa Sano with practiced respect.

Mikey, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, stood to the side, puffing out his cheeks, looking away.

She smiled and raised her hand.

“Thanks for letting me crash in your room.”

He looked up, startled, then awkwardly scratched his head. Hesitantly, he reached out and took her hand for a second.

“No problem,” he mumbled. “It was... fine.”

Deep down, he was grateful—so damn relieved—that she didn’t seem to remember the kiss. But something had changed. He knew it. And from that moment on, he quietly decided he wouldn’t mind letting her win during training... a little more often.

That night was the beginning—the very first spark—of something neither of them had words for yet.

Vegetative State

(spoilers from the manga if you don't want to read skip to the next oneshot)

You sat down in front of Mikey just as Shinichiro spoke up, his voice light with nostalgia.

Shinichiro: “Manjiro, do you remember her? You two used to fight all the time when you were kids. She was the only one at Grandpa’s judo classes who could actually give you a hard time!”

Hope lit up in your eyes.

You looked at Mikey, silently wishing for even the smallest flicker of recognition.

But he didn’t flinch.

Didn’t blink.

Just stared at you with those cold, empty eyes—as if you were a stranger.

A statue carved in frost.

Still, you forced a smile and drew in a deep breath, refusing to let the silence swallow you.

You: “I’m sorry for showing up so late. You probably don’t even remember me... But when we were eight, we used to fight all the time. You never let me or Baji play with you, so I’d always end up running to Haruchiyo, sulking.”

Shinichiro chuckled warmly.

Shinichiro: “You’re doing great, A.T. Honestly, Manjiro and I have been waiting for you to come back for a long time.”

You nodded softly, your smile growing a little more real.

You: “Well... there was my parents’ divorce, and... other things. But I’m really glad to see you all again.”

Then Shinichiro turned to Mikey again, nudging him playfully.

Shinichiro: “You won’t believe it, Manjiro—I ran into her at a café! And there were tons of guys trying to get her number. I had to scare 'em all off myself. But you should’ve been there. You’re her friend, aren’t you?”

You laughed and, without thinking, gently placed your hand over Mikey’s.

His fingers were lean, his knuckles slightly bruised—just like they’d always been.

You: “Don’t worry. I can handle it. But I will get something out of you eventually, Mikey. We still need a rematch. I want to see just how much stronger I’ve gotten since then.”

Before he could reply—not that he looked like he would—Shinichiro’s phone rang.

He excused himself with a quick smile and stepped out to take the call.

The room fell quiet.

And in that quiet, you moved closer, laying your head softly on Mikey’s lap.

From below, your eyes searched his, trying to pull something—anything—out of that unreadable face.

You (softly): “Are you really going to keep pretending I’m not here, Sano?”

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling with intensity.

You: “I came all the way from America... just to find you. To find all of you. You have no idea how happy I was when I ran into your brother—it felt like I could fly from the joy.”

You shifted your head slightly on his lap and gently pressed a kiss to his hand. It was warm, rough with time, but still felt like home.

You: “I know I left at the worst possible time. But after you stopped coming to judo practice... that place became hell for me. And eventually, your grandfather told us not to come back either. My dad took me to America right after that.”

Lifting your head, you sat upright, staring at him with all the sincerity your heart could hold.

You: “Mikey... I mean, Manjiro—please try to come back to us. Your brother, Baji, Haruchiyo... we’re all still waiting for you.”

You reached out and gently placed your hand against his cheek, your touch soft and trembling.

You: “You probably don’t know this, but I had a crush on you when we were kids. Silly, right? We were just little... but I still like you. Even now.”

A small laugh slipped through your tears.

You: “So maybe it’s in your best interest to get better soon. Who knows? You might actually end up with a pretty decent girlfriend.”

But your voice cracked, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. One after another, they slid down your cheeks.

You: “Maybe if I say all this, I can quiet some of this guilt... for coming back so late. So please... just say something. Anything, Manjiro.”

You lay your head down on his lap again and sobbed quietly, your body trembling with every breath.

It was pitiful, really.

Just like Haruchiyo had said—he wasn’t the same Mikey anymore.

And maybe... he couldn’t be.

But even in the silence, Mikey felt you.

Felt the warmth of your presence bleeding through the numbness.

Your words echoed inside his chest, and his heartbeat grew unsteady.

He wanted to hold you—desperately.

To pull you close, wrap you in his arms, and tell you that your feelings weren’t silly or childish.

That he still loved you.

That he’d been waiting for you all this time.

But this cursed state he was trapped in wouldn’t let him speak.

Wouldn’t let him tell you just how much you still meant to him.

---

The next morning, on your way to school, a message lit up your phone.

> “his done.”

You stared at the screen in disbelief. Then, without thinking, you pressed the phone tightly against your chest—right over your heart—and burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs.

Everyone on the bus turned, startled and confused by your sudden breakdown.

You (screaming through tears): “I told you I loved you... How could you do this to me?!”

Your hands let go of the overhead rail as you dropped to your knees, your sobs wracking your whole body.

And this time, not even your own strength could stop the flood.

Thoman Mikey

Lunch at school wasn’t anything special—just noise, chatter, and trays clattering—but the moment you, Mikey, Draken, and Peh sat at the same table, everything felt unusually still.

It had been a month since you and Mikey started dating… well, were forced to start dating—thanks to Emma’s interference.

Honestly, if it weren’t for her, the two of you, with your ridiculous pride and awkward personalities, would’ve never made a move.

And it showed.

That first date? A painfully long walk with zero conversation. Not a single word. Just two people walking side by side like strangers lost in thought.

The second date? A movie night… with Emma and Draken tagging along. Halfway through, Mikey fell asleep on your shoulder.

Dates three and four? Barely any better. The two of you acted like robots, performing the motions of a couple without knowing how.

Since childhood, the only real bond you shared was judo… and Toman.

Years ago, Mikey had asked you to join as a special member—an honorary position beside him and Draken. Not because of feelings. But because he respected your strength. Your loyalty.

Feelings weren’t part of the equation.

Not until Emma noticed the way you looked at Mikey during his Toman speeches—the way your eyes lingered, hopeful and soft.

So she stepped in. Pushed things forward.

And somewhere in that push, the line between teammates and something more began to blur.

Only Emma knew what really started it all:

That night, when Mikey kissed you in his room—while you were fast asleep.

For lunch, you had brought your favorite dish, which caught Pehyan’s surprised attention.

Pehyan said, “Oh! What’s that supposed to be?”

You smiled, “It’s a dish from my country. I wanted to eat it today. Want some?”

He nodded, “Sure, why not—”

But the moment he caught Mikey’s scary glare fixed on him, he froze.

“Oh, uh… no thanks. I’m allergic to foods I’ve never tried before. I better go catch up with Pae Chin. Bye!”

And with that, he hurriedly walked away, leaving you puzzled.

You frowned, “Oh... that hurt my feelings.”

Mikey raised an eyebrow, “Why? You upset because he didn’t eat it?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s not that. I just felt like he insulted my taste.”

Mikey picked up the spoon next to your plate, took a bite of your food, and nodded approvingly.

“Tastes good.”

You beamed, “Aah, Manjiro, you’re the best!”

You ruffled his hair gently, making him smirk quietly as he chewed. But before long, he started coughing. Sitting up straight, he pushed your hand away.

“That’s enough. I want to finish the rest.”

You yelled, “Move aside! I’m the one who brought this—I’m the one who’s gonna eat it!”

Mikey caught your face with one hand and pushed your plate away.

“That’s not how a lady talks, (Your name)! Show some grace.”

You pulled your hand back, grumbling, “God, look who’s saying that—the guy who can’t even talk to other girls.”

He chuckled quietly and took another bite.

“Yeah, they’re disgusting anyway.”

Draken smirked but said nothing as he got up from the table, leaving you two alone.

Draken said over his shoulder, “Anyway, everyone flirts their own way. These crazy kids seem happy with theirs. Emma, let’s not meddle any more than this.”

From a distance, people would watch you and Mikey tugging at each other’s hair, letting out soft yelps of pain, but never really meaning harm.

Your relationship evolved so that Mikey would ride his motorcycle to take you to school. After classes, you two would head to the temple together for Toman meetings.

Before, some guys teased you for being the only girl in the gang, or tried to flirt with you. But ever since your first date with Mikey, no one dared to even look you in the eye when they spoke to you.

Mikey was truly a strict commander—and an insanely jealous boyfriend.

Many days, when you had fights against rival gangs, he’d call you names just to throw you off and keep you from showing up on time.

And when you finally stormed off angry at him, he’d ask Emma to come to you and smooth things over.

He always took you out for lunch on holidays, and whenever you started studying in front of him, his grumbling and shouting would distract you enough to lose focus.

You were lucky to have Sai Gi as a close friend—otherwise, you were sure Mikey would have done something so extreme that no other Sai would dare come near you.

He was exactly the worst kind of boyfriend—but also the funniest and most jealous one.

So, having a relationship with him wasn’t all bad or hateful. The two of you were made for fighting—and for loving each other.

I’ll soon be posting one-shots from the next three stages too—Future Toman, Manila Mikey, and Bonten Mikey—so don’t lose me if you’re excited to keep reading! 💞

[sugurizz]

(SMUT/NSFW +18 - Minors DNI!)

𑣿 DJ! Choso who's animating the party you're attending. He's constantly focused on his set, barely minding the simmering crowds surrounding him. All the merged noises, laughs, loud voices and endless flashing lights seem to do little to phase him. Baggy yet enticing eyes only glued to the equipement under him, his skilled fingers push and pull on the different keys and buttons, making the perfect combinations of the newest hits, and driving the crowds crazier by the minute.

𑣿 DJ! Choso who you couldn't quite dart your glance away from. He was the calmest yet most charming, silent yet most graceful of all people who were around you.

And mayhaps it was just your imagination, or your bored self being already mentally checked out of the party, and wanting just to have a heated moment with him all on your own. But you could've sworn his dark irises often locked with yours, in less than a random way.

𑣿 DJ! Choso who has just finished animating his part of the night, briefly thanking the crowd and wishing everyone a pleasant rest of the night before making his way out of your sight.

and it was rather time for you to leave too. You felt quite dazed by the whole ambiance, having some growing headaches along the way. You looked for your jacket and put your handbag on, exiting the club in your glamorous dress and glittery makeup.

𑣿 DJ! Choso who was dressed in his teddy black hoodie. his meaty fingers wrapped around a freshly lit cigarette, eyes looking into the dim roadlights. You run into him just stepping out the building, making your glances lock for another time, only a bit longer, and deeper.

He took a final puff from his cigarette before stomping the flame down, letting a deep 'Hey' escape his lips.

You snapped out of it, just realizing you may have stared a bit too long. And thus you pushed a shy 'Hey' as well, almost dying of embarassment.

'Pretty'. He said as he inched closer, eyes boldly brushing over your thick thighs and puffy breasts, hugged by the fabric of your tiny dress.

𑣿 DJ! Choso who has you chilling in the back of his mc Laren, his arms wrapped tight around your waist seemed to distract you from your warm, cosy conversation. Though you weren't even complaining, his deep tone had your kitty throb, and the irresistible smokey scent of his clothes made you feel even more vulnerable.

𑣿 DJ! Choso who's suckling on your neck, squeezing the flesh of your butt into his large palms. Your poor dress is fully undone, nipples almost spilling from your collar and clavicles already sore from his plump lips on your skin.

'mmh...Sorry for leaving hickeys, 's bad habit of mine...'

you could feel how sticky your thong got. And his leg fevershly rubbing your pussy lips wasn't exacty helping, having you choke on your moans.

He unclasped your bra and fondled your breasts, tugging on your nips and nibbling till they're sore and raw. He leaned back against the backseat and folded his arms behind his head

'Wanna ride me?' A lazy smirk curled his lips upwards, staring adoringly at the way you struggled to balance yourself on top of him.

𑣿 DJ! Choso who's bouncing you up and down his big cock, his knitted brows and gritted teeth somehow made him even hotter. You fucked your little pussy on his dick till you almost passed out, hearing an adorable chuckle with a 'Aww, pretty babe's tired ain't she?'

He gripped your asscheeks tight and took full charge, thrusting inside you at the pace of someone who hated your guts.

'Ahh, Chosoo! I-I can't a-anymore! fuck!'

'Shhh...you're a big girl now arent'cha? know you can take me...Trust me'

He hugged you and pushed in deeper, his groans vibrated against your neck as you braced your pretty acrylic nails on his large chest with all power you had left.

'Aww poor babe, cock feels so damn good doesn't it, huh?'

𑣿 DJ! Choso who has you seeing stars, screaming your head out as you squirted on his abs.

'Come on, gorgeous, make a mess for me. cum till you cry on this cock.'

He pulled you in for the sloppiest kiss, whispering how proud he is of you cumming so good for him. You could barely string a few words together. Braindead from how good he fucked your tiny pussy.

𑣿 DJ! Choso who drove you back to your place and softly layed you on your bed...

.. You woke up the next day realizing that he kept your soiled thong as a little souvenir, leaving you a handwritten note with his number on in exchange..

[yokedtablet]

heavy (in your arms)

ellabs oneshot:

Post-canon, Abby and Lev return to the farm with Ellie. They find a tenuous peace, and a makeshift trust that's always at risk of breaking. Abby finds Ellie's guitar upstairs, which she never plays anymore, and starts to learn. She's not very good. Ellie hates this, or so she says.

Based on this post.

947 words

Abby’s fingers cramp the frets. She strums with a little too much force, and the guitar makes a rattling, muted sound. Its hollowness creaks in her lap as she resets, tries to find her place in the song again.

She found the guitar upstairs, in a room with Ellie’s other stuff. A stack of journals she didn’t open, despite her curiosity. Sketches of animals. A painting of Dina, which makes her regret stepping into the room in the first place. 

But the guitar has a moth on the neck that matches Ellie’s tattoo, so she picks it up. She strums the strings, open. It’s out of tune, probably a little bit warped by heat and moisture. There are a few song books that teach her cursory chords. She hasn’t even attempted any fingerpicking yet.

In the living room, Abby hears the screen door swing open. Footsteps stomp through the kitchen, pause, and then approach more slowly. 

Ellie props herself against the doorframe. She’s dressed in her brown jacket and looks tired from the hunt. “Are you trying to make my ears fall off?”

She hates Abby’s playing—or so she says. The first time she saw her with the moth-neck guitar in her hands, she looked at her like she’d violated some long-held pact. Touched something that didn’t belong to her. And Abby thought this would probably lose her the hard-won progress she’d made. Just a couple steps forward, so that they could exist in the same room together without someone flinching. 

But then came the teasing. “You’re not supposed to strangle the damn thing.” “The sheep could hear you all the way from the barn. Told me to tell you it sounds awful.” Mostly, things to the effect of, “That sounds like hot garbage.” It was the most Ellie had spoken to her since they got back to the farm. 

Despite the complaint, Ellie flops down onto the couch, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. When Abby stops playing, she gives her an insistent nod. 

Abby laughs inwardly. “You want me to keep going?”

“No,” she says. “It’s whatever.” Petulant and infuriating, as always.

She’s almost as bad as Lev, who’s become a little bit of a menace with his newfound stability. Because he doesn’t need Abby’s help anymore, and he would do just fine hunting on his own if she let him. He’s started to add some of Ellie’s more colorful language to his repertoire, too. “That sucked balls,” she’d once heard him say when Ellie missed a shot with her bow, giggling.

“Any requests?” Abby asks.

“Ummm…” Ellie rolls her head against the couch cushions. Catching the fading light from the window, her face is dark and freckled from the sun, her hair cut unevenly above her chin. She keeps her left hand tucked into her jacket. “Anything but whatever that was.” 

“Fine.” 

Abby starts to play something else. She pauses between each chord, interrupting her strumming as she carefully places each of her fingers against the strings. Her hands are calloused enough—from chopping firewood, from her regular exercise routine, but her fingertips are still tender. The longer she plays, the more the strings bite. She would never admit this to Ellie, of course.

When she’s finished, she awaits a familiar insult. 

I could do better with two fingers. Except Ellie doesn’t play anymore, because Abby took that away from her.

But there’s no reply. Abby lifts her attention from the fretboard, and Ellie’s asleep. Her head lolls peacefully to one side, eyes shut, brow furrowed, like she’s still pissed off. Her chest rises and falls with slow, even breaths. 

It’s the first time Abby’s seen her like this in the daylight. They sleep in separate rooms, Ellie with her door shut tight. But sometimes Abby wakes in the middle of the night to find Ellie curled into her side, fingers knotted into her t-shirt, breathing softly against her neck. She never hears her come in, and they never talk about it in the morning.

Abby sets the guitar down slowly, careful not to make a noise when it connects with the floor. 

It’s easy to imagine carrying her, taking all of Ellie’s weight in her arms. She could carry her upstairs and take her to her own bed. She would unlace her converse—she can’t believe Ellie still wears those things—and tug them off. 

But Ellie would probably wake up as soon as she curled an arm under her neck. Her eyes darting wide, instinctively bracing herself against Abby’s chest. Taste of blood in her mouth. She would struggle, and say the words she'd been saying to Abby in one way or another since they got here. 

Don't fucking touch me. 

Abby hasn’t earned that yet. Ellie chooses when to approach and to retreat. Abby can wait. She can wait until she’s ready. They have time. 

Instead, Abby unfolds a blanket from the back of the couch. She stretches it out to her full wingspan, letting it fall to her knees. Slowly, so slowly, she drapes it over Ellie’s sleeping form. 

Ellie jerks in her sleep, and Abby freezes. She waits. But then she makes a grumbling sound and relaxes again, and Abby continues. 

The blanket envelops her fully. Careful not to actually touch her, Abby tucks the blanket in around her neck and shoulders. It gets cold down here at night.

Which reminds her, she should close the window.

She cringes when it makes a grating sound against the woodwork—old house and all. But when she looks back, Ellie is still sleeping.

Flecks of white paint fall and stick to her forearms. She flicks off the light.

-

(read this on ao3)

[slayfics]

Heya! Can I get a comfort/fluff one shot with Kirishima and fem!reader? They like each other but are clueless about it, but are really good friends. He is in a sad mood, feeling insecure about his quirk compared to others. Reader comforts/cheers him up and it leads to him finally confessing? 😚

Eijiro confesses his feelings for you.

1.1k words

You walked back to the common room of the dorms after finishing showering. Ready to relax with your friends for the rest of the night. The usual group sat in their spots on the couches. Hanta was having an animated discussion with Denki, while Katsuki sat with his hands in his pockets, pretending he wanted to be anywhere else. Everyone was accounted for, except for Eijiro.

"Hey," you announced yourself taking up the empty spot next to Katsuki.

Hanta and Denki greeted you warmly while Katsuki grunted. The four of you had the usual conversations about classes, assignments, and training. You expected Eijiro to come down and join you all any minute, but he never did.

You waited for a natural pause in conversation to ask, "Where's Kirishima?"

"Said he was tired and went up to his room early," Hanta replied.

"Oh," you mused gazing at the ground. It was unusual for Eijiro to be sleepy so early, that was Katsuki's job.

"Yeah, I thought it was weird too, but it was a long day," Denki added. 

Hanta and Denki started up another conversation while you found yourself worrying about Eijiro. You knew he didn't do well in the training today and he had a tendency to be too hard on himself. It was likely being tired was just an excuse to wallow in his room.

"Go check on 'em," Katsuki said, so lowly you almost didn't hear.

"Hu?" You perked up looking at him.

"If you're so damn worried, go check on him," Katsuki huffed.

"I didn't say I was worried," You argued.

"Tch- ya didn't have to. Go," he demanded.

"You don't have to be so bossy about it," You rolled your eyes and stood up.

"Yeah, I do, or your stubborn ass wouldn't listen," Katsuki retorted. 

"Sorry, can't hear you," You mocked as the distance between you and Katsuki grew while you made your way to Eijiro's dorm. Katsuki huffed but didn't argue any further.

After the short elevator ride, you were in front of Eijiro's dorm door knocking.

"I told you guys I'm tired," he called from inside his room, responding to your knocks.

"Oh, sorry I didn't know," you called back.

Hearing your voice Eijiro rushed to his door.

"Oh hey! Sorry, I thought you were Sero and Kaminari," he replied.

"So, you're too tired to talk to them but not me?" You joked.

Eijiro's cheeks flushed slightly, "I uh-," he stuttered.

"Relax, I'm just teasing you," you said saving him the embarrassment. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," he said stepping aside to make way for you. "So, what's up?"

You thought for a moment before deciding how to answer. You figured honesty was the best. "I was just worried about you. I know you had a tough day today. So when the boys said you went to bed already, I just wanted to make sure you were ok."

Eijiro grunted as he plopped himself down on his bed, "Was it that obvious?" He asked, placing his hands over his face. His shirt lifted slightly revealing part of his abdomen. Your own cheeks flushing now.

You sat down on the bed next to him, "I don't think it was to anyone else!" You tried to comfort him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Eijiro let out a sigh, "You saw me today... my quirk was worthless."

"That's not true!" You try to combat him.

"Yes, it was! There was nothing productive for me to do in that situation. It's just... never mind it's stupid," he said cutting himself off...

"No, tell me! I want to hear," you encouraged.

Another heavy sigh and some silence passed before Eijiro took his hands off his face and spoke to the ceiling, "I hate my quirk sometimes. You, Bakugo, Kaminari... all have amazing quirks that could be useful for almost anything. I've been training so hard to try and make up for that... but days like today just remind me how far behind I am from you guys... Sometimes it feels like I'm never going to catch up. Or even when I make improvements, it's not enough because everyone else has to so I'm still miles behind. I always wanted to be a hero and help people but, recently I don't think I'm even needed. The world has enough heroes ya know?"

"Are you being serious right now?" You said angrily at Eijiro.

"Hu?" He sat up looking at you confused.

"You really can't see how much of a difference you made for your team in the training today?!" You asked.

"They would have been fine without me; they didn't need me. The outcome would have been the same," Eijiro stated.

You shook your head no aggressively, "You're so dense sometimes."

"Ok ouch," Eijiro exclaimed.

"I just mean... the way Koda froze on your team; you all would have lost. The only reason he used his anivocie is because of you!"

"So?" Eijiro asked.

"Don't you get it? There's so much more to being a hero than just your quirk. There's your drive and the comfort you bring those you're saving. Even though you may have felt useless on the inside you hyped your team with your endless positivity, and it made everyone fight so much harder. Your team won because you were on it, and you believed in everyone." You explained.

Eijiro felt his eyes get misty, "You really think so?"

"I don't think. I know, and so does the rest of our class. You inspire everyone with your big shark smile and... the way you look up to all of us, makes us want to be that hero you think we can be. You bring a lot to our class, it's why you're friends with everyone. Even the hard-headed Bakugo. You're going to be a fan favorite hero someday because of that, I know it," you smiled at him.

"Man," Eijiro exclaimed taking in a breath. "You always know what to say, no wonder I like you so much."

"Hu?" You breathed out, taken off guard.

"No! I uh just mean-," Eijiro tried to backtrack.

"Don't... Please don't take it back," you said, gaze meeting his crimson eyes.

Eijiro bit his lip, attempting to swallow his nervousness, "You're right that would be unmanly. I meant it... You always check on me, and have this way of getting to me when I'm in my head... I can't help but... like you."

"I... feel the same way," you confessed.

"What?! Are you serious?" Eijiro asked stunned.

You nodded shyly.

"Man, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world right now... would you... want to go to my favorite restaurant after class tomorrow with me?" Eijiro asked.

"I'd love to," you replied.

sinners: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @derangedmango @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99

[songmingisthighs]

Project Jekyll & Hyde

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ch. ii - the vessel

group : ateez

pairing : mafia!ateez x research intern psychologist!reader

genre : action, fantasy, mature

word count : 2 k

warning : medical fantasy, depiction of DID,

disclaimer : this fic contains depiction of real life mental disorder that has been simplified and/or adjusted to fit into a fictive narrative and also depiction of mafia life. the author does not support any and all depiction of criminal activities and medical and clinical practices in this story, anything and everything written is published for the sake of fantasy. read at your own discretion.

a/n : so i suddenly had the urge to revive this fic because the idea is still fresh in my mind and i thought it would be good to put the story out there again

buy me coffee ?

The moment the Doctor opened the door where the vessels were, everyone's chatters stopped and they stood frozen in front of each tube.

"Say hello to the new bodies of your alters," The Doctor said, smiling widely and proudly as some of the eight men walked closer to the tubes.

"Bodies? These things are blobs," Jongho pointed out, cringing at the sight of the fleshy round thing, floating in the middle of the seemingly gigantic tubes. 'You're not putting me in there,' Apple scoffed inside Jongho's head, "What is this exactly?" Jongho asked, confused and frankly inquisitive. Sure, his alter is a huge pain to him but as he had been with Apple for so long, there was a slight sense of connection with him so of course Jongho had to know where Apple would go before they part.

Mingi almost had his face pressed onto the glass of the tube, knocking on it with his pointer finger when the blob pulsed, causing him to screech and jump back, "That thing just moved!" He exclaimed. Seeing this was almost comical to you as you realized that the big mafia man is actually a scaredy cat. Mingi grabbed Yunho by the sleeve and pointed at the tube, "Dude, you saw that thing moved, right?" "Well, of course, it does," The Doctor stepped closer to him and tapped on the tube too, showcasing that the blob could move, "They are alive and they can respond to different stimuli which include sounds and vibration but also tactile," he explained.

To that, Yeosang stepped up, eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean they are alive? Are you telling me you actually use a human egg and inseminate it to become a vessel?" The Doctor pursed his lips and took a moment to answer, trying to form the correct words. Thankfully, you stepped up and spoke up, "It's not a human egg, Mr. Kang, I can assure you of that. As the vessel will receive part of your consciousness through an electrical neural connection, we have to find a way to trick the brain into thinking that the flow is organic so it can be accepted. The eggs were donated and they are mammal eggs." Yeosang turned his head to you and narrowed his eyes on you, "And the part about insemination?" "I believe each of you has donated... specimen at the beginning of the trial so we inseminated the eggs to ensure a successful transfer."

Seonghwa stepped up from the back with his eyebrows knitted together, "Wait, so... This is... Part of us?" You shrugged, "In a sense, just to ensure acceptance in the transfer." Yeosang stepped forward with a scowl on his face, "So you made offspring that's part us and part some damn animal!?" he huffed but as he finished his sentence, you saw his face shift almost maniacally, "Wicked." It was Doc who had momentarily taken the light. The Doctor chuckled and nodded, "So I take it you approved of my little creation here?" 'Doc' leaned closer to the tubes and he stared from side to side, thinking, "It would've been better if you had allowed me to partake in this creation." Just as he said it, Wooyoung lunged at him, effectively causing you to crash down to the floor as well. "Better? Better!? You created me you sick son of a bitch, you brought me out and made sure Wooyoung would experience the same thing you do because he's Yeosang's best friend and you hated that, right? You hated how close they always were and you hated how he made Wooyoung hate you because he managed to make Yeosang realize how absolutely vile you are and-" before Wooyoung could finish his words, San and Yunho had grabbed his arms and held him up while Mingi and Seonghwa helped Yeosang or 'Doc' up. "Are you okay?" Jongho asked, extending his hand out for you to take. You were rather shaken up from the shock but you simply nodded and took his help.

The Doctor stood in front of Wooyoung and spoke with a stern voice, "Knives, we have talked about you attacking Doc like that. As Wooyoung doesn't require your assistance or defence, I would like for you to give the light back to Wooyoung, please."

Displeased, 'Knives' growled at the doctor but his attention shifted to you as you got back on your feet. "Well, well," he smirked, "I wish we would've been introduced when I wasn't about to rip Doc out of Yeosang myself, but as per usual, Doc is such a big disappointment." he snarled at 'Doc' once again.

At the mention of him. Doc smirked and taunted him by taking a step forward, "Lulu," he said. You were confused at what it meant but the feeling shifted to panic as 'Knives' started thrashing against Yunho and San and tears started streaming down his face. "Bastard! Asshole! Murderer! You killed her! You made Wooyoung kill off Lulu and you know it!" The doctor immediately grabbed 'Knives' by the shoulders while Mingi and Hongjoong dragged Doc out of the room as they called out for Yeosang to take back the light. "No, no, no, Knives, Lulu decided to leave during our program, remember? Lulu wanted you to take care of Wooyoung for her because she knew you could protect him and one of the things he didn't want is for you to start blaming Doc for things he didn't do." The way 'Knives' stopped moving was almost robotic and even the way he turned to The Doctor was almost unsettling. "You don't know what he whispers at night, You don't now what he plans, you don't know what he wants. You think you were in control doctor, but Doc has a plan. Doc has plans bigger than you could imagine." "Plans?" The Doctor asked with furrowed eyebrows, "What plans?"

Before The Doctor's question could be answered, Wooyoung's eyes turned dazed and his body relaxed. It didn't take long before Wooyoung straightened up and gasped, causing Yunho and San to unlatch from him. "Sorry, I- I couldn't stop him this time," he then averted his eyes at you, "I'm sorry to have caused you to fall like that, I hope Knives didn't traumatize you there." You wanted to say no, the word was hanging on your lips, but for some reason, you could only seem to swallow the lump in your throat before you averted your gaze and stepped back with so many questions running through your head.

"Okay, I think we had enough... Craziness for today," Seonghwa said, eyeing the door and then the specimens. The Doctor nodded and cleared his throat, "Yes, of course, my purpose was to show you the specimens so that when we finally transfer you all in three days, you would not be surprised as to what awaits you all," he smiled, albeit slightly tensed.

Soon enough, everyone was herded out of the room where they found Mingi and Hongjoong standing on Yeosang's sides as he was calming down.

"You okay?" Yeosang asked, staring directly at Wooyoung who nodded and smiled at his friend, "I'm good, no worries." It was admirable how despite everything, the two of them were still so understanding of each other not getting the situation with their alters oto affect their actual friendship. Though, after seeing and hearing what Knives did and said, you had to wonder what exactly happened in the past, you wanted to know what it was exactly that Doc was saying. You had heard, well, read, about Lulu when you were doing your research about the participants, their alters, and their history, but the new revelation enticed your curiosity. You had read on the report that it was The Doctor who managed to guide Lulu out of Wooyoung's life for good but judging by the way he said it, Doc might have had a hand, You wondered if you should try to find out somehow but you weren't sure if it was wise. After all, it was not in your job description to pry, You were tasked to just be there and do as told. work with what was given and based on what is already there.

The Doctor let out a sharp exhale but smiled at Yeosang, "I hope you're fine now, Mr. Kang. I hope this situation further strengthens your will to let Doc go when the time comes." You were surprised that even after the situation, The Doctor would still talk about the experiment. You understood that he was a scientist and all and it was his responsibility to be dedicated to his craft, But not like that, not when a distressing thing just happened. You wondered if The Doctor just couldn't help himself or has the experiment had dulled his humanity.

Despite the worry, you still dug into your pocket and went over Yeosang to hand him a piece of candy you had fished. You offered him the small sweets with a simple smile and no words, not really knowing what to say anyway but finding that no words were actually required to just be there for him. Yeosang seemed surprised at this but he slowly took it from your hand and his demeanour finally relaxed for you for the very first time. "Thank you," he smiled gently, causing your smile to grow. "It's nothing," you answered.

The Doctor stepped back and nodded to himself, "Well, I think you all should take a break for today, I will leave you all to handle some things. I trust Ms. (y/l/n) to escort you while you all get to know each other a little bit better, does that sound okay?" All of them nodded slowly and as The Doctor departed, the rest of you also started to walk the other way.

It was a coincidence that you were at the very back of the group, but it was lucky because just as everyone started clearing out, you noticed the way Hongjoong was staring at the doctor who was typing into the keypad of the specimen room. It wasn't until he noticed you watching him did he broke out of his daze, clearing his throat and wiping his nose, "I don't think I could get used to the fact that all of this is really coming true. I'd bet you never would've guessed that you would be part of something as fucked up as this," he smiled. You chuckled and shrugged, "Stranger things have happened. It's beyond my wildest imagination but also, It's my responsibility. As weird as it sounds, I think I will get used to this. Eventually." Your answer made Hongjoong laugh but he didn't comment anything about it as he simply gestured for you to walk in front of him, going as far as pretending to bow slightly as how a gentleman should.

As you walked past him, you met eyes when he lifted his face a bit and it was then that you saw a flicker of something that sent chills down your spine. While you haven't spent much time with Hongjoong yourself, you could feel that there was something sinister about his eyes. You couldn't point to what it was exactly but you couldn't help but blurt out something to test your theory.

"Red?" You called, thinking that maybe by calling his alter, you would be able to see if it was really him or if it was just you being paranoid.

Your breath hitched when you saw a flash of surprise but before you could even call upon it, the flash was gone and Hongjoong chuckled, "Uh... What?" he seemed to be himself which made you slightly disappointed but oddly still alert. Not wanting to go over the line, you shrugged and smiled at him, "Sorry, I was just... Worried because your eyes looked red there," you pointed. Hongjoong let out a gasp and immediately tried to rub his eyes, "Ah shit, this is what I get for not sleeping at a reasonable time, I guess. Or for not sleeping every day like how a normal human being would," he sheepishly confessed. "Well, I can get you some eye drops. I have been through enough restless nights where I'm forced to read reports and research to know something that would help with tired eyes. I'll go get it for you," you smiled before jogging away.

As soon as there was some distance between the two of you, Hongjoong's expression dropped and his smile twisted to a menacing smirk.

"Interesting."

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