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ladybyakuya · 5 months ago

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IS WHAT LOVE IS ? | GEN NARUMI.

+cw.— omegaverse au ( alpha!male x beta!reader ) + roommates au + college / university au, gen narumi x f!reader, fast burn ( we don't appreciate it enough ), world building, angst & hurt, smut, mentions of alcohol, bullying, blood and physical injuries.

+syn.— When college got busy with upcoming internships, classes became hectic, sleep schedule got fucked up and exam stress piled on: gen narumi sought blissful comfort in your presence. However, the same can not be said about you.

+wc. —5k ( dw I think I'll often talk about this in my main.)

+playlist. — affection by between friends \ no love in L.A by dutch melrose \ fire by jvke \ is this what love is by wasia project.

+notes. — one of my favourite things to get things done by challenging myself so please be kind to me if you feel my writing is little off or not fitting my general pattern. thank you, enjoy reading. | redirect to blog navigation.

+tags. — into the omegaverse collab by @goxjo + other tags : @sukirichi @to-eden @stunie @interstellar-inn

[ one. ]

"We should fuck," Narumi announces walking into the dorm room half-clad in the towel and boxers freshly showered, clusters of hair falling onto his face, wet and aromatic opening the door with a bang. Still, it failed to startle you like it generally does. His arm is still holding the door open as you try immersing yourself more into the university website that is spread open on your laptop attracting a fair amount of attention. A barely visible deft amongst his eyebrows arises as his presence remains unbeknownst to you even after he clears his throat. Are beta's senses that dull?

You take the bluetooth earphones off your ears. "Did you say something?" you pose the question as if you are aware of his presence just now.

Letting his fingers skim through his wet hair he grumbles, "We should fuck," with pinnable irritation in his voice not that you would know why he is being cranky.

It is your turn to be silent. Your eyes switch over to the calendar hanging on the wall right beside him. It is still two weeks for Gen before he starts to show the bare minimum signs of an approaching rut. Besides, he has never been this ridiculous. "Did the summer heat finally take your sanity?" you exclaim with a scoff returning the annoyance right back at him but respectable enough to look at him as you spoke. Your phone chimes followed by a vibration and Narumi is forced to cover one of his ears with the arm that has been holding the door all the while; his other ear suffers the damage.

"How many times did I tell you to tone it down a few notches?" He gets inside finally closing the door. All you could spare for response is nothing but a glance of unease. Who is he to tell you what to do and what not? You put your notebooks and a few things in your bag as his whistle finally blows off. "It's been two years already. when are you going to finally give in to my alpha charms, huh? I know that you are no strangers to the modern ideas of mating. I mean you are quite active so why don't we just celebrate the last year of graduation being fuck buddies rather than just roommates?" You roll your eyes when you are still facing his back to him. You turn around to tuck your hair behind your ears making the bluetooth earphones visible. Holding up your fisted right wrist in his direction you tap on the watch two times and fist out your palm with all five fingers and Narumi just squits his eyes. Before he could make full sense of what you are conveying, you are already out of the door and Narumi knows better than anyone that you love listening to music at high volumes without interruption. Maybe you do so because you are a beta or you are sad or annoyed about something. It couldn't be him, could it? Sometimes when the surroundings get too quiet and you are listening to music he can hear what song it is.

Not that he is a fan of your music taste but he has rather expressed in preposterous ways to exhibit his distaste for your tastes, likes, and dislikes, sometimes even unasked for one and you were fine with it. You were fine with his obnoxious, rude, and rough behavior. Even in his class, he has a hard time getting along with his batchmates. Every once in a while he would come up with bloody knuckles or a bleeding nose, scratches in his face sometimes and you would have no other choice but to tend to his wounds. You never bothered to ask how he got hurt or why he hurt others and he never decided to divulge. Being at the top of the university has prevented him from getting expelled. The professors are fed up with him but are willing to put up with him only because he is sincere in his studies. And, he is surprisingly good at it given his nature. Sharing a room for almost more than two years with an alpha like Gen Narumi is not a cakewalk, especially for a beta like you. Even before moving into the dorm room, you knew that you would either be paired with an omega or an alpha. You knew what you were getting into and with the advancement of medicinal chemistry cohabitation with other species of your kind has become easier than before yet the primal urges never really fade, do they? After all, what is more dangerous than an unmated alpha?

You check the time. You are so early for someone who has an interview for the first time. You sit with the other candidates without a slice of panic in your body. Thanks to Gen for nuking your attention into something that you would never expect in nightmares or another universe. Like what the fuck was that? What kind of question was that? Was that even a question? As for a fact, an alpha's desire is too innate to ignore. And with the amount of patience stored in Gen Narumi's body if anything was possible it would have happened in the first few months of college year. Wait a minute! is he finally asking you out after trying to hide it for almost two years? If yes, that would certainly explain why one time he gave you cologne on your birthday which would complement his scent too. Not only that, it would surely explain how he snuggles to you during movie nights, or on liquid nights he would almost spoon you when his ruts were approaching he was too broke to buy video games. But at the same time, you can not completely claim those actions as an act of pursuit of seeking a potential mate in you since it was just an extremely rare occurrence.

You remember the time when both of you just came from an exam semester party being too drunk, high, and happy to change or freshen up. Both of you just passed out on the nearest bed to the door of the room and you swear you felt a graze of something sharp upon the nook of your neck. But you swiped that thought at the back of your mind thinking it as a dream or some bad alcoholic effect. That night you woke up with Narumi in your bed sleeping like a log, a loud log to be specific. You have always given him space during his ruts since it works better that way; rather than arguing to come to a truce. That's how you have always been. That's how betas had to be. You would always find him buried under a futon with bloodshot with a game controller in his hand, and a lot of junk food packets all around the room yet you chose to give him space because that is how you avoid alphas like him; the more you indulge with him, the greater the chances to be under his target radar.

"Y/N L/N is next. Be prepared." the mic announces breaking the pensive silence and your reverie of thoughts for a mere blinking moment.

On the first day when you moved in you clearly stated that you would file a complaint if he ever tried to scent you, mark you during his ruts. He just joked saying, "So, it's okay when I'm not in a rut?" but you would not budge or answer him so he mentioned in a sing-songy tone, "Oh don't worry. Betas are hard to influence. You should know that darling. Plus, you are not exactly my type." with a smug so loud on his face that you wished you could throw something at his face but engaging with him would give him a crack to widen the gulf, explore and test waters. . .you know better than that. But since unlike other alphas, he listened to it, he abided by it, he sustained it—- well tried to or he was just poking the bear for fun. He often does that when he is out of video games.

That is how you have always maintained a boundary between him and you.

Gen Narumi finds it impenetrable. You think all the things he does, he does it out of respect which is not exactly true. There is respect but just a pinch. Sharing a room with a beta wouldn't be too bad. That's what he thought when he came to know about you. He did mention in his admission form that he would not like an omega as his roommate but he did not expect it to be beta. It could have been an alpha or a zeta, someone either loud or too mute. Mediocrity has always been a foreign concept to him. And what's up with "do not scent me or mark me." as if he would be interested in such things. He is not like other alphas. Some alphas spend their ruts giving in to their urges while some take suppressants. Gen Narumi belongs to neither of them. He spends his ruts eating junk and playing video games. works both ways actually. It has always been like that since he was expressed as alpha in society. What would he do to a beta? or that's what he thought.

This morning when he said, well, suggested that you and him should fuck he was possessed perhaps. Why on earth would he say that? It does not make any sense because never in two years he has thought or even looked at you with a splotch of romance. Most of the alphas in his batch have already found a mate or maybe were forced to. He might be the only unmated alpha in this university which is why lesser potential omegas approach him. An unmated alpha is always seen under the lens of threat. And, if they came to know how he spends his ruts, they would not even acknowledge him as an alpha. At the start of the college year, he would often end up bullied by other alphas because of that. The last thing he wants to do is to use his pheromones on others. Why would he waste it on others? He doesn't exactly know for what or whom he is saving it. He would come to the room late whenever he got into a fight. One time he was so tired of all the bullying that he did not even try to defend himself or scare them away. By the time he reached the dorm room, he was too hurt to breathe properly. That night Gen Narumi came to know that even a beta can calm an alpha, and nurse them into good health if needed. He was too hurt to protest or say anything, all he could do was to imbibe your scent while you were taking care of him. Even betas have a smell. Did you do that on purpose? release pheromonic signals to calm him? Would it be so hard to believe if he were to say that most alphas took their roommates as mates? He can certainly try, at the very least he will get a good laugh out of your reaction. If you did that on purpose he has a chance to show other alphas that he is actually an alpha not that he cares what they say but since you showed your interest in him in a puzzled way he would certainly try to match your level. wouldn't this be a win-win situation if he fucked you? For you, for him, and others as well; it certainly would. That's right. This morning you did not pay enough attention to him so he will say it again just so he can reject you. That's what an exceptional alpha would do. He is exceptionally good at gaming and studies though so he can not see why he should let this opportunity slip through his hands like sand.

You open the door with the help of keys while holding your bag in one hand and your cell phone in the other. Gen does not leave his seat to hold the door rather graces you a glance and goes back to whatever he is doing.

“Yeah. I’ll definitely call you back, Hoshina-san.” you disconnect the call and Gen’s eyes are on you. He does not look away so you took it as a cue to explain something, anything. He just needs some info to be fed so that he does not start again. “Hoshina Soshiro is gonna be my supervisor if I get the job. The interview wasn’t so bad but I don’t wanna get my hopes up. He is one of the best and doing an internship under his guidance would be a great start. ”

“Stay away from that guy,” Gen grumbles looking back at his desk. It is unusually neat today. Not to mention his futon bed is folded and kept on his bed in a side enough that one can sleep peacefully without any problem. You would have said something to him if your attention did not keep faltering . . .Gen rolls his revolving chair in your direction, one of his legs is touching the wheels of the chair while the other is stretched creating a huge gap. His left-hand travels under his t-shirt and it hooks on his right shoulder. "we should fuck," he declares, inept and inert.

"oh god! Not again" you let out a groan and sit on the bed near to you. Your head is in hands not because of what he said or what he did, not even because your patience is thinning with each tick of the clock enough to not to put up with this anymore but because of what is about to come out of his mouth the next.

"So, you heard me the first time ?" he barks while leaving his chair. You just wave your hand nonchalantly in a gesture to dismiss him but he locks his hands in his chest taking a stern stance in front of you.

You tilt up your head looking him in the eye, "You know Gen we shouldn't do this," your elbows rest on your thighs as you start to scratch your index finger with the other.

"don't you mean can't? you can't do this?" Is he serious? Isn’t he joking? Oh God. Why isn’t he joking like he generally does? Maybe a reaction would keep him quiet but what kind? A yes? A no? Or a laugh?

"you know better than others that I can fuck, literally too sometimes." You exclaim hoping to judge if this is really serious or just some sort of prank. If the latter, then it's not funny. If the former, then you might have to consider moving out. You get up from his bed to grab towels and bathroom needs."Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. Maybe I need to prove to someone that I'm an alpha." Gen regrets saying that. Your hands have stopped as you look at him which rarely happens. You never do one thing at a time. Fuck! You’re still looking at him. Gen unlocks one of his hands and scratches his jaw.

"well, you chose a very wrong person to fuck, to prove then. I despise alphas. I would be much happier if you weren't one," That’s a little harsh, even from you.

"as if a beta like you could get me hard." You keep the shampoo and conditioner bottle on the desk with much greater force than needed. Here it comes. . .Oh okay.

"Well, have you been with Beta before?" Gen tries to dodge the bullet because this is not the direction of conversation he wants to go. "that's exactly my point-"

"an omega?" you pause and take a few steps towards him "An alpha?"

“Wha—t? What’re — you talking — about?” Gen blabbers. He does not step away as you come closer but he has the urge to do so.

"god. Please find someone else to lose your virginity." You turn around the moment you finish deciphering his goal. Gen starts to growl underneath everything that comes out of his mouth now. "me being an alpha won't affect you being a beta if we were to fuck. and I don't wanna hurt an omega or alpha—His patience is thinning out too. This really isn’t the way he wanted this to go.

"But you'd hurt me?"

"That's not what I meant,"

"Are you a virgin, Gen Narumi?"

"Yes—I mean no." He glitches and now he can not look at you.

"Which is it?"

". . ."

"I'm too tired to think about it now," you express with an exasperated sigh walking towards the bathroom.

"Is that a yes?"

"maybe be,"

"forget it." His tone is too sharp, demanding for someone who was begging you to fuck.

"What?" You stop before entering the bathroom and turn your head to him. "forget it" He repeats. You tilt your head, "But you just said. . ." you are starting to understand what this is really about. He does not want to fuck you neither want to lose his virginity or whatever he is trying to protect. It is his alpha ego acting up. He wants you to say yes so that he can reject you so that it strokes his alpha-nature. That’s it.

Your face distorts in disdain in his dense thought process.

Gen Narumi squints his eyes and then blinks. When he opens his eyes you are in front of him. You push him onto the nearest bed, your bed, and sit on his lap, legs folded and creating a dip on the mattress under the pressure of it, thighs grazing his pelvis.

"what're you doing?" Gen gasps as you let your palms touch his chest. He is gonna explode. His heart is beating so fast. You can feel it. Oh My God. You didn’t think this through.

"Well, let's see if a beta can get you hard or not."

You undress your top. You are not an omega. There is no stench. But your scent is so muted that he has to either influence you to emit some or get closer to inhale. The first option is a no-no because he would not like to anger you while you are on his lap. So, he has to get closer. Wait, closer than this? The smell from that night threatens his senses and memory. Before the realization fully hits his brain, his hand moves in your direction but you stop him. Did you do something wrong? Both hands are now aligned with his. You notice how your hands are different from his. His fingers are rough and raw. Yours are at least, well-maintained. You slowly interlace his fingers with yours folding his hands at the back. He could easily swat you away but he is not doing that. You lean into his face and he does not move away so you take that as a yes to lick from his collarbones up to his chin and immediately pull away.

Narumi’s eyes are closed, head still tilted. Without giving him a moment of reprieve you let your lips graze on his, just barely, and pull away just a little, wet yours and thereby skimming at his bottom lip in the process. He opens his eyes, slowly looks at you, and then your lips. He is breathing like a tired puppy. He inclines, perhaps for a kiss but you sway your head giving him access to the side of your neck. As you graze your cheek against his jaw, his hands that are still at the back are held by you but it is slowly getting lithe as you feel his lips on your shoulders, hot tongue on your skin, and then a sharp graze of his fang from your shoulder up to the back of your ear. You tip your head down for a moment feeling goosebumps arise on your skin barely allowing him any moments of reprieve, only permitting a rare moment to breathe. You watch Narumi intently, unafraid to make things awkward, but Narumi is too distracted by his inner crisis to notice the amused stare mere centimeters from his face; studying him.

The tip of your tongue curls slowly but forcefully, tracing the plump of your bottom lip before sliding across Gen’s own and trailing the roof of his mouth. Eyes watching intently. Controlled. Curious. Amused. But then you abruptly pull away, lips shiny and wet. Before Narumi can ask why, your lips curl in on themselves, hiding a smug smile. It looks like you can’t catch your breath — like if you do, you will erupt into laughter. But a lopsided grin finally breaks free, tugging at your lips, when your eyes flash down to Narumi’s torso and back up.

Narumi freezes, heart, hammering in his ribs.

He’s hard.

“That was fast,” You smirk — and you stand. “I’m going to shower now.” you release your grip from his hands and get off his lap. Gen watches you go into the bathroom and looks down at his boner biting his bottom lip; a click of his tongue follows as he checks the time. It is too late to go out now.

when you come out of the shower he is not there. A part of you worries if he got into a fight or something or maybe he is with his big hot alpha friends bragging about how he turned you down. You hit the bed with a thud, exhaustion creeping up from your toe to head, slowly. You do not give a damn what he says about you to other alphas or anyone in general. A beta will always have to watch out for themselves. They can not rely upon anyone, not even their kind because most betas are dumb enough to mingle with alphas and get turned into omega with or without consent.

Look what fate landed upon your mother when she took an alpha as her mate. You let out a wry chuckle. Sleep seems like a foreign land somewhere in heaven.

[ two. ]

It has been two days since Narumi left. Some of his batchmates have started to ask you during recess and breaks between classes. You answered them the same thing every time. “I don’t know.” or “he didn’t tell me before going.” or “How should I know? I’m not his mate who can sense it. Go find his mate.” or “he didn’t take his phone. So I don’t know.” truly it had not bothered you until Professor Shinomiya showed up at your doorstep asking for his whereabouts. You politely and patiently answered him the same very thing that you have been telling anyone who asked about Narumi. For a hated unmated alpha he sure is popular.

On the third day, late at night, there is a knock on your door. You go and open without hesitation. Narumi enters wearing the same clothing he wore the last time you saw him, only a little fade. His hair is wet and it is not raining outside so he comes back after going missing for two days, freshly showered. Bloodshot eyes, hair messed up, and mayhem all over his body.

“Welcome back.” You say but Gen does not say anything but goes straight to his study desk. He has a test coming up. Professor Shinimiya said that so you would contact him if you had the means. Your day-to-day notebook is on his study table, under the stack of his books, and guess what? That is exactly what you need the most right now because without it you would not be able to work on your applications and resumes. It has all the details and info you. The moment you touch the stack of books, Narumi’s hands are over yours.

“Are you—-? Where were you ?” You ask and For the first time in your life, you feel that something inside you went missing. When did that happen?

Gen stands up but you do not scoot away as he closes the gap between him and you. That’s what he likes about you. You were never afraid of him. You never considered him as a threat like others. Now, that he is closer you can smell several mixes of strong musky aromas. It is odd. You have been close to him before, but never once knew his scent. Is he in a rut? Or did something bad happen? Did he. . .? Was he attacked by a gang of omegas or alphas? It makes your stomach turn thinking about whatever the probable reason for such a state as his.

“Oh? You can tell?” There is a few inches gap between his face and yours. His palm is still intact on yours. The grip is lithe yet you don’t move your hand away.

“Gen? What? OH. God.” You had to swallow since tears threatened your eyes. “Are you okay?” A trembling whisper is all it takes for him to finally say something.

“Leave.”

“What?”

“Just leave for a few days. Go to some friend’s house or something,” He is still sitting, his eyes are on the open book now but his hand is still over yours.

“Why? What did I do?” You ask trying to move away your hand but in a swift moment, he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer as he stands up.

“I’m — in a rut. So, I need you to stay away from me.”

“But — I’m a beta. You don’t need to worry.”

That is funny. It is because of you that he is such a shipwreck now. It was your pheromones that fucked him up. It was you who calmed him with scents when he came home injured. It was you who had no control over pheromones when drunk. It was you all along and despite that, he can not bring himself to hate you. Why can’t he hate you when he wants to? He even took a whole bunch of suprresants before coming back here. Gen laughs at your naive sentiment so blaring that you take a few steps back but he yanks you back to himself, a little too forceful than he intended to be resulting in you on top of him sprawled on the cold floor.

“Ohh? Why do you think I rub my fangs against your neck? You don’t think I do that for fun, do you?” You are still trying to get away from his grip but he is strong. He is stronger than you have known all these two years. “Are you too dumb to know that if I bite and knot you enough times you will turn into an o—

Thwack!

Narumi’s head is tilted away from yours. The exposed side of his cheek is red, his ears are thrumming and he has to force himself to keep his eyes open. Fuck. You’re strong. That was one hell of a slap.

“I know that. I’ve known that all my life. You don’t need to tell me that,” you yell looking down at his t-shirt. A cry is at the brink when you see a few drops of water fall on his top. You try your best not to fall apart in front of him but it is just too much. Hearing such a thing what your mother went through and then slowly becoming a victim of it is nothing but a slow poison. You refuse to live the life your mother led. You refuse to owe your existence to an alpha.

Narumi’s lips form a crescent but it is quickly clouded when your body starts to shake. You cover your face as you start to crumble like Rome in front of him.

Folding his legs he sits up. His hands rest on the floor to support himself as he whispers, “Hey, stop crying.” His voice is calm, pupils back to normal, not red anymore. “Please” He insists. “I’d hate to use my pheromones on you, especially now”

You slowly look up wiping off your tears with your hand.

“Tell me y/n have I ever used my pheromones on you?”

“No. Never.” Your hands fall on his chest. “But I still hate you. Why would you say something like that?” You stifle a sob and continue. “I know. I’ve never opened up to you—-” Your voice turns up, anger laced underneath. “But never did you. You think I don’t know—- that alphas bully you? Oh please! I know better than anyone what an alpha’s beating looks like.” You inhale a long breath, “I mean I have known that my entire life. I’ve seen my mother all my life— and I can’t see someone else getting hurt because of me . . . your voice breaks into a cry again and you inhale so as not to cry anymore but what good that would do now that he has seen the core of vulnerability in you that was tucked inside carefully with layer upon layer.

“Well,” Narumi starts to speak. “Save me then. Save me from this torment.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Narumi jocks down to meet your gaze. “Be my God and I will be your devotee.”

You try to get on your feet. Gen’s eyes follow you, each of your movements until you are standing on your own. He is still sitting on the floor in the same stance, laid back and amused. He is sure you will say no. He has done this before. Back then you thought he was speaking out of delirium but that night when you saved his life he felt like he found a God to worship. He remembers saying, “I think I love you, Y/N L/N.” and you scoffed at him saying in no world an alpha like you would feel that about a beta like you when there is a bevy of omegas around him.

“Okay.” You murmur.

Gen’s mouth is parted. His eyes are big in surprise. “But just so you know, I’m hard to please,” you mumble with a sniff getting out of the room to make a call.

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writingbyshiloh · 1 year ago

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Third Time's the Charm

Request: Hii,if your request are still open can i request something for Gen V?Can you write something where Jordan and fem reader are childhood best friends and Jordan had always been in love with her but they feel insecure because they don’t know if reader will like them in both forms romantically?So when,in ep 3,Jordan dad goes like “Y/n and Jordan will be husband and wife” reader goes “Maybe we will be wife and wife”because she loves Jordan just like they are?

AN: Reader wants to be the first supe president (just to explain why they’re at the gala), I changed the timeline of the ep a tiny bit. I have another request about meeting Jordan's parents but that one might be more angsty.

CW: fem!reader, kissing, no beta, Jordan's parents are just their warning. The start is all flashbacks so I may have slipped on the tense a few times, no beta

WC: 2.0K

Jordan Li was your first kiss. Twice. The first time was in kindergarten, when they tried to kiss you and you smacked them with your Queen Mauve lunch box. Your second first kiss (the one you consider your actual first kiss) was done by you while playing truth or dare at 14. After picking a dare, you were asked to kiss the best-looking guy in the group. You shrugged and picked your best friend - Jordan.

At age six, they were there when you broke your ankle trying to see if you could fly (you couldn’t). When you did get powers, they were the first person you told.

When Jordan came out to you as bigender, you did an internet deep-dive, trying to understand as much as possible.

Jordan listened to every interaction you had with your high school crush while quietly dying inside, wanting you to be happy. When your high school boyfriend cheated on you and then dumped you for the girl he cheated with, Jordan was there, ready to sink hours into their Xbox to keep you distracted.

The worst week of your life was when you didn't speak to Jordan for 9 whole days. You got into a petty argument where you called them self-absorbed and they called you clingy. The fight snowballed into yelling arguments and ended with you receiving a cold shoulder from Jordan.

When Jordan got their wisdom teeth removed, you camped out in their room, snuggled under their duvet with them to watch Property Brothers for two days straight. You even made sure they took their painkillers on time and used ice packs.

Every fight with their parents, you were outside in your car ready to pick up Jordan to stay with you. Once you showed up at their house at 6:03 am, eyes blurry with sleep and still in pyjamas. Jordan was crying, bob haircut looked messy from sleep. You drove them to Vought-A-Burger, still half asleep and ate greasy breakfast sandwiches in your car until Jordan stopped crying.

Jordan was even your date to prom, taking photos with you in their masculine form to get their parents off their back. Once their parents were happy, you snuck them back to yours, where you stashed their prom dress.

You both even applied to God U together. Too nervous to check your acceptance, Jordan checked yours and you checked theirs. Sitting across from each other on your bed you both log in before giving the laptops to each other.

“Okay, three, two, one…” you counted down, opening Jordan’s laptop. Your eyes scanned for any promising words like congratulations, or welcome. "Accepted" was the first word your eyes caught but you need to fuck with them.

“Jord… I’m so sorry.” You start. Their face falls, and you feel like a dick for doing this. But the opportunity is too good to pass up. “That you believed me! Because you got in!”

They lunged across your bed to see what the screen says. You saw Jordan's eyes scan the same letter you just read, picking out the same words.

“You’re such an asshole!” they told you, rolling their eyes, gently hitting your arm with the back of their hand

You’ve never been shy about showering Jordan with compliments. Saved in screenshots never to see the light of day, Jordan has kept some of them.

You: OMG!!! Jordan you’re so pretty. I’m so lucky to call you my friend.

You: You’re so handsome!!! I love your hair slicked back! If she doesn’t agree you need to drop her.

You: ur a solid 9/10. Lost a point for not giving me a sip of your drink yesterday lol

Jordan Li has been in love with you since age 16. Probably earlier, if they want to admit that to themselves. You’ve only ever expressed interest in men so they kept their feelings to themselves, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, figuring it was better to have you as a friend only than not at all.

In your first year, you were even roommates. While Jordan flourished in crim, you bounced between majors before settling into politics.

Every time you brought some frat guy to your shared dorm, Jordan died inside. Trying to get over their long-standing crush, Jordan did the same.

When Jordan made number 2 on the top five, you celebrate with them. Maybe a bit too hard that night.

You were there when their ranking dropped after the death of Brink. A man you only met twice, but you would do anything for Jordan. Especially given how hard you fell for both versions of them last year.

“I’m going to try to tag team with your dad, get some points for you and keep him engaged, yeah?” You ask over your shocker. Jordan is behind you, ready to help with zipper duty for your dress.

“You don’t have to.”

You let out a small scoff. “Dude. I’m doing poli supe. Schmoozing with rich people is like half our courses. Zip me up please.”

“How long have you known Jordan? You seem to be a good couple.” The man you and Jordan's dad suckered into a conversation asks. He's sitting beside Jordan's parents, while you and Jordan are on the edge of some fancy pit or table.

“Well, these two have known each other pretty well over the years. Jordan tried to kiss her when they were kids, and she hit him with her Black Noir lunch box.”

“It was a Queen Mauve lunch box, actually.” You say with a laugh.

“And she called him ‘Jojo’ for probably the next two years out of spite.” Kayla laughs. It's a special embarrassment when your parents tell stories about your childhood. All the stories are about you but it's been so long ago you can’t remember any of it. Jordan looks worse off, slouchy posture against the banister, while you sit next to him. Part of you wants to tell him to sit up straight, but you figure you can play the grief angle better this way.

“Oh, and remember when Jordan got his wisdom teeth out? You guys were inseparable. I think I still have the photo of you two passed out watching TV!” Kayla gushes, reaching for her phone to find the photo.

“We all thought you two would be president and First Gentleman.” Dad insists. Your smile is fake and tight, knowing if Paul pulls out prom photos, you would have to quietly fling yourself out of a window.

Maybe you drank a bit too much liquid courage. Maybe the tension between them and their parents was getting to you. To give Jordan some space, you took their parents for a tour of your classes, knowing they’ll be talking to your family when they go back to Rochester.

Jordan shifting doesn’t even cause you to raise an eyebrow, the subtle sound just blurs into the background.

“Or president and First Lady.” You blurt out, four pairs of eyes darting towards you. “First supes in the Whitehouse? It would be political dynamite.”

“You like this version of Jordan?” Dad asks with bewilderment.

“Of course. I like Jordan because of how smart and driven they are. I like Jordan because of their weird sense of humour. It doesn’t matter what they look like.” you say, trying to prove it to their parents, but also to them. You’ve picked up on their crush many times, too kind to say something that would embarrass them or hurt them. It’s only recently how much you found yourself staring at fem Jordan and wanting to kiss her too.

“I’m going to go and mingle some more.” says the man, Brad or Rob maybe. You forgot his name right after you met him. His words are like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. You don’t confess your feelings to Jordan just to Jordan, but in front of their judgy parents, and a possible donner. You need to go.

You stand and straighten out your dress.

“I’m going to go too. Other donors to talk to. Go Jordan!" You finish with an awkward laugh and even more cringy go team! gesture by yourself.

You didn't lie to Jordan and their parents. You did go and talk to other donors but it twists your stomach every time you bring up how amazing their grades are, or how skillful they are at fighting. After donor number three gives you an answer that technically was “we’ll see” but heavily implied to be "yes for Jordan” you went to hide in the bathroom. You have enough battery left on your V-phone to keep it going for most of the night. Tomorrow you can talk to Jordan and hope you don’t fuck it all up.

You barely look up when the door opens, already have done too much for the day to care who it is.

‘Hey, can we talk?” You snap to attention at the voice. Of course, you know that voice. It's Jordan, still feminine presenting.

“Fuck, Jord, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have spring that on you. I promise I’ll just go back and try to get you some votes, you’re going through a lot.” You say, in a rush to get the words out, desperate not to fuck up you’re friendship. The rim of the sink is hard against your back but you can’t help but shrink into it.

“Did you mean it?” They ask, still keeping a distance from you.

“Yeah, of course, I don’t want to ruin this friendship.”

“No, what you said in front of my parents.”

Oh right. Your confession. Fuck. It's already out there, might as well keep it going.

“I may, uh-” you curse yourself for leaving your drink outside the bathroom, wanting something in your hands to stall. “-have a crush. On you. My best friend.” You twist your hands together, wishing Jordan didn’t look so pretty. If your heart beats any faster you may go into cardiac arrest.

It's Jordan that indicates your third first kiss. It's gentle, and fast, like the second one. She pulls back quickly, but you run your fingers through her hair and pull her closer. The intensity from the first first kiss is still there, only this time you both share it. Her hand smooths up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek in a silent invitation to open your mouth. You comply, and tilt your head into her palm. Her tongue sweeps into your mouth and you can taste the champagne they were drinking.

The sound of the door opening makes you both jump.

“Stall?” You ask, voice low and hushed. You squirm out from where she has you between the sink and her. You push the door open to the nicest-looking stall, desperate to keep kissing Jordan. They follow your lead eagerly, one hand wrapped around your shoulder to keep you near.

Dipping their head, they softly kiss your jaw before moving onto your neck. You silently thank the other two women arguing in the bathroom so that your gasp goes unnoticed. Giving Jordan's hair a small tug, you pull them back up to you. The shit-eating grin they flash you makes you want to almost get caught again.

Your free hand moves to their waist, trying to get as close to them as physically possible.

You pull back slightly, wanting so desperately to get lost in the moment, but the commotion in the other stall is distracting. Plus you’re nosey.

Jordan frowns when you pull away, eyes scanning your face for something they did wrong. You shake your head and tip it over to the stall.

“The fuck?” They mouth to you, hand still around your shoulder.

You gently push Jordan against the door to give yourself space to squat down. You see two pairs of feet in the stall across the wall. You hear the voices quiet down, before the sound of someone peeing. You frown slightly, weird fetish to do at a memorial gala but you hear rumours about students into more fucked up shit.

“We should get outta here.” You whisper to Jordan.

“Weird place for our third first kiss.” Jordan whispers back. You reach around them to unlock the stall door. Third first kiss. You replay the words in your head, a warm feeling blooming in your chest.

You gently push them out of the stall, trying to keep your laughs quiet as you both scurry past the other couple in the stall.

#I read it once for spelling and flow then released it to the world #jordan li x reader #jordan li x y/n #jordan li imagine #gen v x reader #gen v x y/n #gen v imagine #whew this got out of hand #time to talk about jordan

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nyarumie · 4 months ago

Note

hii dropping by to say i love your works sm !! since you mentioned abt narumi requests, id like to make one :3

how aboutt narumi randomly feeling hungry during his game night and when he goes to find food he sees reader! so they end up making/getting food tgt all domestic and fluffy (if you’re cooking bro is definitely not thinking abt wifing u up uhhhh), feel free to create any setting you’d like for the scenario hihi

(also this might or might not be an excuse for me to ask u to become moots aha)

Food Impact! (Oneshot)

narumi gen x reader — pure fluff, more fluff, and even more fluff! sweet and gentle narumi, established relationship, the kitchen staff are eavesdropping on them, spoiler alert: they made a mess in the kitchen.

Author's Note: Readers, please search up the food name references I included here to get the entire picture of what they're trying to make <3

Author's Reply: hi, rye! I think we're already mutuals (at least, it's what my notif bar says? i know im already following u tho! i love your works too <3 it inspired me to write and post too, to be honest) thank you for this request i totally had fun writing it and helped me with my writer's block (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ id love to interact more too!

Cross-posted on ao3. Ask box is open, and masterlist can be found on my pinned. Have fun reading, everyone!

The sight that greeted Hasegawa has an unusual factor.

Stacked yamazon boxes, check.

Littered cans and bottles, check.

Neglected blankets and pillows, check.

An unbothered Captain on his futon playing his BS5, gone.

Or maybe he's just being dramatic. Narumi is actually there, albeit not stuck in front of his huge ass TV for once. Rather, he's shockingly seated behind his office table, adorning a serious expression while giving his laptop an intense focus.

His Vice Captain is rendered speechless. Was he seeing things? The First Division’s Captain… is actually doing work?

“Hasegawa. What is it? I’m busy here.” he said, hands busy on his laptop.

Oh, he's been staring at him for the past 5 minutes, mouth agape. Regaining his composure, he stated his business. “Your presence is requested for an interview. I believe I sent you the notice first thing in the morning.” But is it right to be disturbing him when he’s finally working—a rarer than once in a blue moon occasion?

“Requested, not required. Don't care, won't care.”

“...Then I’ll ask her to do it in your stead.”

“Don't. She's helping me with my work.”

Sighing, Hasegawa turned around to leave, surprisingly not picking Narumi up like a helpless cat to make him attend the interview.

Once Narumi heard the door click, the corner of his lips turned up, unable to stop the smug, triumphant grin from forming. “Hah, too easy! I’m busy working alright, my ass is practically burning from sitting here all day!”

In truth, the laptop Narumi specifically requested when he was promoted as Captain is a gaming laptop. He had somehow convinced the higher ups that its specifications are far greater than anything most officers can handle and is fitting for his position as Captain. Not that they know what it really is, of course.

He has been playing Jenshin Ympact the moment his office shift started. You had practically begged him yesterday to grind for you, saying that you’ll handle his paperworks worth a week’s job as long as he gets your desired character and weapon. “Why won’t she just top-up on this game? We have all the money to get every single character. What a bummer.”

Not that he understands why you’re willing to shoulder his paperworks over playing a game. Nothing’s enjoyable about paperworks at all! But you complained that your back was hurting from grinding, and who was he to reject such a good offer? That means a grumpy Hasegawa would appear less on his doorstep.

Complaints can be heard from him as he speedruns a side quest, mumbling about how the NPCs are too helpless. “What the… why do most NPCs ask for food here? What kind of adventurer doesn’t bring any food with them?”

Karma seemed to have hit him, his stomach growling too loud for his liking.

Ignoring it, he continued, still insulting every single unimportant character here and there. “Boo. Shut up. Don't like you. Go away. I hope you get eaten by a slime—”

And an even angrier sound came from his stomach.

“Fine! I’ll grab something to eat.”

What he meant by grab something to eat, is grab you to get the both of you something to eat. He refuses to eat anything without you, finding it more enjoyable doing mundane things with you around. His stomach has been empty since morning, wanting to get an early start on his grind.

He sulkily made his way towards your own room, knowing that you've been just as cooped up as him in your respective offices.

Not bothering to knock, he calmly opened the door, instantly finding you still working on his paperworks, desk situated across your door.

His familiar presence caught your attention, eyes lighting up in joy at the sight of him. “Gen! What brings you here? Do you need anything?”

Without a word, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, making you drop your pen in the process.

Confused, you tried calling him again. “Gen?”

“Mhm… heard you. Just come with me.”

“Alright.” You smiled, his uncharacteristically calm demeanor endearing you. He was often like this with you, as if your very existence is his source of peace.

A comfortable silence lingered as you let him lead you to his your destination. Halfway there, you finally recognized the route to the cafeteria.

‘Oh, he's just hungry.’ you thought. ‘But wouldn't he prefer instant meals or deliveries instead of going all the way here?’

But instead of going straight to the self-service counter, he turned and made his way to the kitchen instead. Wait, are you even allowed there? Sure, he's the Captain, but he's not a cook!

He finally let go of your wrist, unceremoniously opening the large door, earning shocked stares from the kitchen staff and making them pause their job.

You pulled at his sleeve. “Gen—”

“Is there an available cooking station here?” he asked.

The staff looked at each other, obviously baffled. “Uhm, Captain Narumi, sir; there is. But it's at the far end of the Kitchen…” a cook said, pointing towards the station.

“Good. We’ll be using it undisturbed.”

Gen continued making his way forward, with you holding the cuff of his sleeve to ease your nerves. You offered an apologetic look at every person you made eye contact with as you both made your way through. He still hasn't said anything as to why you're here of all places, confusing you further.

He came to an abrupt stop once you reached ‘your’ station. It's time to get to the bottom of this.

“Gen, did you say we'll be using this cooking station? Are we actually cooking?”

He faced you, his arms crossing. Suddenly, he looked a bit bashful. “Yeah. That's what I said.”

Raising your brow, you tried prying more information from him. “And what exactly are we gonna cook?”

“Ahem. So I saw this food while playing Jenshin Ympact…” He pulled out his phone, showing you a screenshot of the food.

Invigorating Kitty Meal.

Giggles threatened to spill from your lips. No wonder he wants to make it yourselves.

He swiped the photo to another screenshot. “And there's this other one. You love mushrooms, I thought you'd want something simple to eat.” Milky Mushroom Crisp Tower. How cute, he was also thinking of you!

“They look pretty fun and easy to make. However… Both of us don't know how to cook, Gen.” you frowned.

“But you just said it looks easy to make. There's two of us, that should be good enough, yeah?” he pouted.

Fondly, you sighed. He’s being too adorable right now, you just can't say no to him. “Alright, we’ll try. If it turns out good, you’ll marry me, won't you?” you joked.

He brightened up at this, pushing his hair back, determined to make his kitty meal. “Consider it done.”

After thoroughly examining the screenshots, you personally approached a few people stationed in the kitchen, asking them which ingredients would best suit your planned meal. With a couple of pieces of advice here and there, you and Gen started to put the plan in motion.

He passes you a rather large bowl full of rice, busying yourself with shaping it to form a cat, filling its inside with mayo tuna. He tasked himself with (trying) to cook the steak while watching the eggs boil, which you doubted at first, earning you a complain from him (‘Hey! You're on the same boat as I am; can't cook, can't question!’)

Cooking the steak is quite the task, so you decided to handle your mushroom toast yourself.

You poorly sliced up the mushroom and tossed it in a small pot filled with a cup of thick cream and easily melted cheese. Not hard at all!

You leave it be and checked on Gen, who you find struggling with not burning the steak. “Need help?”

“I’m fine! It's just that this is totally not beginner friendly, that's all!”

“...Gen, the eggs are overcooked.” A series of curses left his mouth as he hurriedly took them off the boiling water, and his nose scrunched up on the smell of something burning.

“Your mushroom! The heat is turned all the way up!” Now it was your turn to panic.

After a couple of errors from both your ends, it was safe to say that you've finally reached the final task of your newly found skill.

You were carefully carving some seaweed, cheese, and ham as the final touches to his rice kitty’s facial features. Gen was standing behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he watched your art, humming to himself. He seemed pleased despite the mess you both made.

“Let's cook again someday.” he said.

You snort, “Speaking too soon? You won't say that if this turns out bad.”

“Nahh. Not if I’ll marry you.”

You laugh, taking it as a joke. You feel him perch his head on your shoulder, face turning into a frown. “I wasn't joking! Here, have this.”

He took your hand, putting a seaweed ring on your finger. You giggled again, your heart can't take him sometimes. “I didn't mean to laugh at you. You're being too adorable today! Let's eat these right here before they spoil.”

He looked too sad to see the kitty get devoured, sulking despite how good it surprisingly tasted. And yours wasn't too bad either, glad that you were able to salvage whatever was left from the burnt mushroom sauce.

“ ‘M definitely gonna marry you someday.” he suddenly said.

Your head whipped towards him so fast, only to find him munching on his meal, face serious. “Food so good it got you saying that again?”

He shook his head. “Don't you want me as your husband?” he whined.

You felt your face flush, suddenly aware that he meant what he said. “Go put on a real ring on me first. Then I'll take you as my husband.” you teased.

Looking thoughtful, he hummed. “I can wait just fine. It arrives tomorrow.”

Wait. What?

“What arrives… tomorrow?”

“The ring.” he said, matter-of-factly.

You faced him fully, mouth wide open. He’s dropping this information way too casually!

Sensing your stare, he also turned to look at you, food still in hand. “What? If you're worried about the size, I got it covered.”

“You're crazy. When did you purchase it?”

“Hmm… a couple of weeks ago. When I heard you scolding Hasegawa for disturbing me, saying I needed rest for carrying No. 1’s eyes on a daily basis. No one dares to scold him like that! So I decided to promote you as my wife!” he proudly said.

You tug at the front of his clothes, pulling him closer. “I want to kiss you right now.”

He set his food down, placing his hands on your waist. His eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth. “Then, as the Captain of the First Division, I grant you special permission to kiss me.”

And with that, you closed the distance between you, feeling the both of you smile in your kiss.

Bonus:

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the kitchen staff were eavesdropping the entire time. Who would’ve thought that this is how good their Captain's romantic life is?

You two were so absorbed in your own little bubble, failing to notice the suppressed squeal from a staff that was tasked to spy on you when you kissed. Seems like you forgot there were other people around you.

The staff went back to the others, meeting their expectant gazes. Wordlessly, they gestured their ring finger and acted out a kiss. It was comical, but the message was well-received nonetheless. It became an unspoken rule to keep what happened that night amongst themselves, wanting to respect your and the Captain's joyous moment.

#kaiju no. 8 #axia writes for fun #kn8 x reader #kn8 writing #gen narumi #kaiju number 8 #narumi gen x reader #narumi fluff #narumi x reader #narumi gen #narumi gen fluff

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xzaddyzanakinx · 7 months ago

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Fourteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, gun play, GEN. SMUT [all possible tags, not necessarily all apply]

Info: Ghost is whiny, He’s feeling petty, he told you so!![diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. Stalker!Anakin Character art (as Ghost) MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: September 2nd

I lied. I said I wasn’t mad at you, but I am.

It’s not like I tell you no to anything, so why wouldn’t you just ask me first? Are you just desperate for a moment away from me and too nice to tell me that? Running from your problems won’t help especially when your problem is me.

I did what I should’ve done a long time ago. A new software has been installed on your phone, very similar to the screen cloning software linked to my laptop. Only this one is active all the time, a constant feed of live audio that I’ve taken the liberty of flagging a few words within the code.

Anakin, hate, love, Ghost, annoying, angry… so on and so forth.

The software flagged several sections of audio within the timeframe of your drive to the cabin. I must say, I’m surprised about the things the two of you talk about, I’m never going to be able to look Han in the eye ever again.

I also lied to you about something else. I don’t work tonight, or tomorrow. I switched up my schedule with April for you, cause I have a little something planned for you. A little thing I’ve had tucked away, actually never intended on getting it out and doing anything with it really. It was a gift from Cliegg after there was a murder on the college campus last year.

Don’t worry, it wasn’t me that time.

Anyway, I think it might be fun. For me at least.

“Okay but I don’t get it.” Luke said, propping up his feet on the dash while you drove.

“What about it don’t you get?” You snorted, slowing to a stop at a traffic light. “I think it’s pretty self explanatory Luke.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t come equipped with a cooter and I’ve never, nor wanted, the opportunity to see one.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head back and rolled his shoulders. “I just don’t see the benefit.”

“First of all, it’s pretty.” Holding a finger up and adding a second, “second, it feels heavenly.”

“I am a gay man.” Luke scoffed, “Dicks aren’t very pretty. A little jewelry can’t fix that.”

“How does it even work? Does he have to take it out to piss? That’s inconvenient.”

“No!” You laughed, covering your mouth as you turned the dial to quiet the radio. “No, he doesn’t have to take it out. To answer your other question, it’s the metal balls on either end of the jewelry. That’s the point of the piercing you know? It rubs up-“

“Okay that’s enough, thoughts have been thunk.” He covered his ears and did a dramatic shiver of disgust.

“You asked!”

“I didn’t know you’d be so descriptive!”

“You described in great detail all about the massive ingrown hair on-“

“Oh my god! I told you never to mention that again!” Luke reached across the console and whacked you up the back of the head.

“I’m driving!” You squealed, your hand shooting out to the side and shoving his shoulder. “No, don’t you dare touch that radio! For fucks sake if that’s-“

“It’s ABBA.”

“Go to hell.”

————————————————————————

After two hours you reached the small lakeside cabin that was to be your home for the weekend. A cute little place with a loft and two small bedrooms. The kitchen was… lackluster; a fridge and a stove with a whopping number of three cabinets. The living room however did have a pool table, which in Luke’s eyes made up for the fact that your sister beat him to claiming the loft room, because she’d driven separately and arrived before you.

You chose the room to the left of the living room and Luke chose the one on the right. The view from your window was beautiful deep forest green, leaves and moss and huge tree trunks. While Luke’s was the deep blueish green lake water, the occasional white wake following a boat zipping past.

After tossing your bag onto the floor in the general direction of the nightstand you jumped onto the squishy and super cheap springy mattress on the tacky ‘rustic’ log bed. Pulling up Anakin’s contact you tapped the call button and listen to it ring on speakerphone.

“Hey pretty baby.” Anakin’s rich timbre flooded the line.

“Hi Ani.” You smiled despite him not being able to see you. “Just got into the cabin and picked my room.”

“Oh you got to pick?” He said curiously, “you got the loft didn’t you?” You could hear his grin.

“No, my sister did.” You scoffed, “I thought Luke would have a cow over it but he decided the pool table here would offset his disappointment.”

“Pool table hmm?” Anakin tsk’d.

“Hot tub too.” You grinned.

“A fuckin’-“ he groaned and let out a loud huff, “a hot tub?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hmph.” He snorted, “someone finally taught you some manners huh?”

“W-what?” You asked nervously, bringing the phone closer to you and hopping off the bed to shut the door. “Manners?”

“You just called me Sir didn’t you?” He laughed. “Been taking some etiquette classes?”

“Oh shut up.” You breathed out a sigh, a breath you’d almost choked on. Your guilty conscience was really beginning to steam roll your daily life, even on your mini-vacay you can’t escape your wrongdoings. Ghost was still haunting you all the way out here.

“Just teasing doll.” He snickered, “Anyway, what’s on your agenda?”

“Nothing for tonight, probably gonna sit on the dock and have some drinks, do a little bonfire, hot tub maybe.” You told him, beginning to relax again.

“Drinks? Be careful baby. It’s not exactly safe to drink and get into a hot tub.” He chided, “I’m serious.”

“I know.” You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Good girl.” He said, pleased enough with your response. “So what room did you say?”

“Oh! I didn’t actually oops. I got the one looking out into the woods, it’s real pretty, I’ll send you a picture after we hang up.” You said, shifting your weight to sit more comfortably.

“Aw thanks babydoll.” You could hear his little smile through his words. “Well, I should probably let you get back to it huh?” He sighed.

“If you wanna talk more-“

“I always wanna talk more but I don’t want to keep you from your fun.” He said a bit quieter. “Uh, just don’t forget to call and leave me a message before bed okay baby? I’d love to hear your pretty voice when I get off work tonight.”

“Okay Ani,” nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ll talk to you soon then… I miss you.”

“I love you too.” He made a kissy noise and hung up quickly, leaving you with a frustrated, pinched brow that you reached up to sooth with the heel of your palm.

After snapping a quick picture of your view through the bedroom window, you rejoined your trio in the living room where Luke was teaching your sister to play pool. You stood and watched for a moment, seeing them bicker like they were just reminded you of how much you loved summer trips with them.

Growing up with a sister close in age to you was fun, except for when it wasn’t. She went to school before you did, made friends before you did. Of course you were only two grades behind, but there is a big difference between kindergarten and 2nd grade. She had always been happy to play with you until then.

So when she was meant to be paying attention to you, or at least making sure you were alive, while you were both outside… she was busy on the swing set in your backyard. Which is how you found yourself with scraped knees and (surely, most definitely) a broken ankle from your scooter.

A new family had moved in across the street from you not too long before the summer started, you hadn’t met them, didn’t even know they had kids, until you were being pecked on the shoulder by another child’s finger. After that, Luke was found wherever you were; glued at the hip was an understatement, your families were convinced you were soulmates, that you’d grow up to be married.

Jokes on them.

His sister Leia was outgoing and confident in ways that Luke lacked, so during that first summer she gravitated toward your sister. The twins became a binder, something that held the four of you together. Bridging the gap perfectly between kindergarten and 2nd grade as 1st graders.

It stayed that way, for the rest of your school years and after.

Your parents got along swimmingly, the four of you floated between the two houses. Nights often ending up with a pair of kids asleep in the floor, where one of those children did not belong. A quick phone call to the house across the street to make sure your sibling was there, then all was well and your parents would scoop Luke and you up and tuck you in.

You were seven the first summer your parents had the grand idea to spend a week on the lake. It was a tearful goodbye, kids who spent every possible waking moment with each other are not easily pried apart.

Your parents drove the full two hours to a cute lake house they’d found online and within the first 30 minutes of being there your father had enough of the sniffles and whines. By dinner time Luke, Leia and their parents were sitting around fire pit with you.

Thus your annual tradition was born and kept even after the horrid aftermath of Luke’s unexpected outing. Sans parents of course. Your father supported your mother even if his views didn’t fully align with hers. He was a ‘be gay, just don’t be gay in front of me’ type of person, while your mother was more of the ‘send him to conversion camp, he’s tainting my children’ type of gal.

That didn’t really jive with the whole ‘love and positivity’ approach that the twins parents had about the situation. Which leaves you where you are now, reminiscing on those happy childhood memories before everything got complicated, before you discovered the world outside of your safety net, before the consistent visits from your uninvited house guest.

A loud clap broke you out of the fog and suddenly you were hyper aware of your sister’s nose right in front of your face.

“Lauren!” You gasped, your eyes wide before softening into a grin.

“You’ve been staring into oblivion for a solid minute,” she giggled, “I thought about sticking my finger in your mouth but I was afraid you’d bite it off.”

“My mouth?” You asked confusedly.

“Yeah you’ve been catching flies, looking like a mouth breather.”

“Eew! Don’t call me that!” You scoffed, standing up and following her over to the pool table to discuss your evening plans.

——————————————————————————

Anakin watched your little blue dot travel back and forth from the cabin to the dock, he listened the chatter between the three of you as he drove the two hours out to the pine forest your weekend getaway was taking place. The mile long gravel driveway was perfect to stash his car off to the side of, no one would be coming in or out of the drive all weekend.

He walked through the woods, backpack slung over his shoulder, his hood up and mask on. It was 9:57 and the three of you were still on the dock. He could hear you talking about getting into the hot tub through the Bluetooth earbud he had in, that new software was really paying off.

He hadn’t planned to do this next bit, but he couldn’t help himself. He purposefully got his left shoe dirty, twisting his foot side to side in order even dirt for a proper footprint. Then he left his mark on the first step up to the front porch.

*ping*

‘Having fun?’

You laughed, picking up your phone and leaning back in your chair as you crossed one leg over the other and switched the sound off. You’d only had it on for when Anakin texted, and now he was. Or you thought he was until you realized the text came from your own number.

‘No. Don’t engage. He’s not going to know where you are, how could he possibly know?’ You thought to yourself. ‘I planned this in person, I told Anakin at his place not mine. All Ghost knows is that you’ve left for the weekend.’

You swiped the message away and let out a huff, deciding to take the opportunity to walk back up to the house and call your boyfriend.

“Guys I’m going up to the cabin, gonna call Ani.” You said, standing up and taking your hard lemonade with you. “Need anything?”

“Nope, we’re about ready to head back anyway.” Lauren answered, waving you off. “We’ll be up soon.”

With that you walked away, taking the worn dirt path back up to the house and dialed Anakin’s number, waiting for the voicemail to pick up your call.

‘Hey Ani.’ You smiled, crossing one arm across your chest to rest your other elbow on while you talked. ‘I’m probably not going to bed just yet, but I am going back up to the house. I just wanted to fill you in a little bit I guess.’

Once your shoes hit the gravel you absentmindedly kicked a larger rock off to the side, swinging out your leg and shifting your position to walk backwards, looking down at your sister and Luke on the dock.

‘We’ve been just hanging out all evening, made some sandwiches and had drinks by the water.’ You pivoted again as you neared the porch and looked down to ensure your footing before taking the first step up. ‘We’re going hiking tomorrow morn-‘

You scrunched up your face and took another look before backing away from the steps completely, your eyes scanned the porch and saw the cabin door was still shut.

‘Sorry, thought I saw something…’ you muttered into the phone, spinning slowly in a full circle to take a better look at the tree line. ‘I- okay, anyway. Going hiking tomorrow… probably swim too. There’s a canoe moored down there so maybe we’ll try that out.’

Off to the left of you behind your sisters car you swore you heard gravel crunching underfoot, but when you looked toward the dock, Luke and Lauren where still sitting there. You marched over to the opposite side and saw nothing, going so far as to look under her car and yours.

‘Okay well…’ You were certain now that someone was outside and you were not alone, your phone buzzed against you ear and you pulled it away to swipe away the message, not even registering the sender before holding your phone back up to your ear.

‘Uh alright well I’ll talk to you in the morning,’ you quickly walked back over to the porch steps and side eyed the footprint as if you’d expected it to disappear by now. ‘Goodni-‘

A strange feeling passed over you, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and a chill ran down your spine like a drip of cold water. You were almost afraid to turn around.

‘I gotta go, Miss you bunches… goodnight.’ In your panicked state you didn’t have the same thought process you normally would, you’d simply ended the call and whipped your head around, expecting to find someone, something, that might’ve caused that hair-raising fear. There was nothing.

Breathing a sigh of relief you laughed at yourself. It had probably just been a rabbit, maybe you’d startled it and it kicked up some gravel. The footprint… it could have been there when you arrived, it could’ve been made by one of your group, including you.

You checked the message you’d swiped away and your blood ran colder than ice. Your rational explanations were bulldozed in seconds.

A picture of you, standing in the drive way, taken from behind your sisters car.

The breath was stolen from your lungs. Your sight was locked into tunnel vision, all you could see was the front door as you ran to it and pushed it open. Colliding with something solid and warm as you stepped inside.

Something living and breathing that gripped your hair and cradled you to its chest, something that kicked the front door shut and pressed a cold, blunt object to the temple of your head.

Something that made you want to scream.

Diary Entry: September 2nd continued

I have time to kill and nothing to do while I wait for you. So I figured I’d write alittle bit.

I’m currently sitting under a tree, watching you and your cute little ponytail swishing around while you giggle. You’re so beautiful. Everything you do is beautiful. I’ve never seen something as exquisite as you.

Maybe that’s part of the reason I want to ruin you so bad. Leading you, my innocent doe, down the path of corruption could quite possibly be my life’s work. How would you like that sweetheart?

You wanna be my magnum opus?

Though of course we do have the one small identity issue to take care of. I need to get my shit together and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do. It’s not like I can tippity tap it into Google: ‘how to tell my girlfriend I’ve been stalking her for almost a year’.

No thank you. I don’t trust WikiHow with the fate of my love life.

Let’s be for real. I don’t even trust myself with the fate of my love life because I’ve already managed to fuck shit up. I’m continuing to fuck shit up. What I’m about to do? It’ll fuck the fuck out of the shit.

What can I say other than love makes people do crazy things?

“Ghost.” Your voice was wobbly and unsure. “Is that a-“

“Gun? Absolutely.” He grunted, pressing the barrel into your skull.

“What are you doing? They’re gonna be back soon, you can’t be here!”

“I came to chat.” He said simply, leaning his head down to put the cheek of his mask against your warm skin. “I missed you.”

“Did you miss me? Is that why you left your boyfriend back home? Wanted to let me have you all to myself for a weekend?”

“No!” You snapped at him, twisting your head away from his.

“Heard you on the phone.” He cooed, “still can’t say the L word? Why’s that?”

“If Luke sees you… my sister- they’ll call the cops, you know that.” You pushed against his chest and felt it rumble with a low laugh beneath your palms.

“Stop deflecting, answer my question.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to talk about Anakin with you!” The whisper left your lips tainted in unease.

“I’m aware. That’s why we aren’t talking about it. You’re going to tell me.” He barked, holding you close to his chest and walking backwards toward your chosen bedroom.

“N-no, I won’t. That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair?” He scoffed. “I don’t care if you think it’s unfair.”

“How did you find me?!” You wriggled from his arms the moment he closed the bedroom door.

“I know everything about you baby.” His voice low and much too confident for you to believe anything otherwise. He looked relaxed in the way that he reached behind himself and locked the door, leaning back on it and crossing his arms, one long leather finger running parallel to the barrel of the pistol.

“I just wanted one weekend!” You shouted taking off your sneaker and throwing it at him, he gave you no reaction and it only pissed you off more. “Just one!”

“One weekend away from you! I know you can see everything on my phone, you see and hear everything I do, why do you think I wasn’t the one planning this trip? I didn’t want you showing up here!” Yelling at him in a way you never had before as you stalked toward him with your other shoe pointed at him. “I don’t want to talk about Anakin with you! I don’t want to tell you how I feel!”

“Do you want to know how I feel?” He asked calmly.

“I don’t give a shit!” You chucked the shoe at him and he batted it away easily.

“I think you do.” The gun raised up to his mask as if he were scratching his forehead with the barrel. “I think you care a lot and that’s why you won’t tell me.”

You didn’t answer, because he was right. You did care and you did care a lot. You’d been avoiding telling Anakin you loved him to spare Ghost the hurt of having to hear you say it to someone else.

“No.” You stuttered, hesitating and hating the taste of the word on your tongue.

“Don’t lie to me.” He barked, holding out the pistol and motioning for you to move. “Kneel. Now.”

“Gods, seriously? Put your arms down, you idiot.” He scoffed as he watched you lift your hands and put them behind your head like you were being arrested as you knelt down slowly.

“Well I’m sorry. I’ve never been held at gunpoint before.” You snapped, scowling up at him.

“I’m so lucky to have to honor of being your first then.” He grumbled, tucking it into the back of the waistband of his jeans while pulling the pink silk from his pocket and tossing it at you.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” His voice gruff as the toe of his shoe tapped your knee. “Put it on.”

Ghost shook his head, undoing his belt buckle, the tail end of the leather now forever imprinted with your teeth marks. You did as you were told and heard his pants unzip along with a soft grunt.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He asked, holding his flat palm out to the side to make sure you couldn’t see, rearing back to slap you.

“How should I kn-“ *smack* “ow?! What the fuck?”

“Just making sure.” He snickered, taking off his gloves and putting them in his hoodie pocket.

“Asshole.” You mumbled.

“What was that?” He asked with a playful tone. “You want me to fuck your asshole? Is that what you said?”

“Shut up. You know that’s not what I said.” You muttered, unable to keep your lip from curving upward just a fraction of a centimeter.

“Ah well, the offer still stands.” He chuckled, tapping the side of your jaw with the cold metal barrel of his pistol.

“You’re making me nervous waving it around like that.” You huffed, jerking away from it.

“Good.” He snorted, “open your mouth.”

You did exactly that, thinking you’d feel the warm weighty head of his cock hit the tip of your tongue. Hoping for a taste of the salty precum that wept from his cockhead. You weren’t expecting something small, cold, metallic and pellet shaped.

“Don’t swallow; this is the only time you’ll ever hear me say that so you better listen.” You could hear his smarmy grin. “Roll it around, you feel that?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, feeling the smooth metal and the grooves carved into it, opening your mouth again and he plucked it off the tip of your tongue.

“Your initials, or well… what your initials should be.” He mumbled the last bit.

You hear a series of mechanical and metallic noises, followed by the unmistakable sound of a firearm cocking back.

“You did not just-“

“I did.” He snickered, holding the gun sideways and pointing it directly in the center of your forehead. The blunt edge digging into your flesh and pressing down against your skull.

“Spread your fingers.”

“Why?” You asked as you splayed your hand.

“Do you have to question everything?” You felt thick metal circle your middle and ring finger, dropping to the base of each digit, barely making any contact with your skin on its descent. It really put in perspective just how much bigger than you he was.

Even more so when you felt his warm, calloused fingertips weave their way between yours and squeeze gently. The tender gesture did nothing to quench the fear sitting heavy on your chest. A loaded gun, a loaded and ready to fire gun was about an inch from your brain.

“C’mon, you don’t want to talk? Not even like this?” Condescension dripping from his lips. “Loaded gun to your head and you still won’t talk about your feelings.” He tsk’d.

“It’s not your business.”

“See that’s where you’re wrong. We’ve already had this discussion haven’t we?” He crouched down in front of you, air rushing past from the quick motion. “It is my business. You were mine first.”

The curved edge of the barrel traveled down your forehead, across your cheek and rested heavily on your bottom lip.

“Give it a kiss for good luck little doe.” Ghost spoke low and steady, almost monotone. Considering your situation you did as you were told once again.

“Good girl.” He stood back up and pushed the waistband of his boxers down by hooking his thumb beneath the elastic. “Now get to work, bitch.”

His tone had changed again, now a sharp and hard edge that smacked you like a cold wind. Emotional whiplash was to be expected in every encounter you had with Ghost, but none so far was as bruising as this.

He’d never brought a gun to a knife fight before.

You hesitated for a moment longer than he was willing to wait, so he dropped your hand, the small bit of comfort he’d allowed you to have. Grabbing the back of your head and forcing his swollen cockhead past your lips, cool metal returning to the center of your forehead.

You gagged and spluttered around his length, the hot and leaky cockhead bruising the back of your throat. Ghost seemed to love the sound, loved feeling you cough and try to gasp for air, his hand tightened in your hair as he let out a loud and gravely moan.

“You suck cock so much better with your life on the line.” He laughed, pulling you away from him and releasing your hair. He watched you cough and wipe drool off your chin and neck with the back of your hand.

“Ready to talk?” He asked, his breathing heavy and uneven.

“Fuck you.” Spitting the words out with venom.

“Sorry sweetheart that’s not on the agenda tonight.” You felt the rush of air before his palm made contact with your cheek, your hand immediately lifting to cradle it and feel the heat radiating from the irritated flesh.

“C’mon doe, I don’t have to be mean about this.” He barked, “Just use your big girl words.”

“L-Luke’s gonna be back up here any minute.” You stuttered, lifting your head in the general vicinity of where his would be.

“You realize you’re only making this more difficult for yourself right?” He asked, not giving you the opportunity to answer when he fisted your hair and forced your lips to meet the tip of the barrel of his pistol.

*shk* *click* **click** nothing.

Before you had time to process the fact that he had just pulled the trigger of a loaded gun in your mouth, you were being choked and not given any hope for breathing. His forefinger and thumb tightly clamped over your nose and his cock lodged in your throat as he fucked your face. Instinctively you tried to draw in a breath, accidentally breathing in saliva, making you cough so hard that Ghost had no choice but to back off.

“Ghost...” You dry heaved on your hands and knees. “I’m n-not gonna tell you.”

“What’s it gonna take huh?” He asked angrily, you could hear the sound of clothes rustling just before he lifted you up and shoved you over toward the bed. “What’s it gonna take for you to admit that you love me?”

“I don’t!” You yelled, taking off the blindfold and tossing it aside.

“I didn’t say you could take that off.” He snapped at you while pulling his gloves on, snatching the ring off your middle finger and shoving it down in his pocket. He whipped his head around toward the door suddenly.

“Shit.” He shoved the gun in the back of his waist band and grabbed his bag without explanation.

“What?” You asked sitting up on the bed.

“Gotta go.” He grumbled.

He grabbed the blindfold and slipped it back over your head, grabbing your jaw and tilting your head back, his lips met yours in a soft embrace. His tongue piercing gliding across the slit between your lips before pushing past them slowly, the taste of cigarettes and gum flooded your senses. He hadn’t tasted like this last time he kissed you.

He took one of your wrists in a gentle grip and brought it to his cheek. Ghost kept a loose grip on your wrist but he allowed you to feel the smooth skin beneath his eyes, your fingertips collecting the smallest amount of moisture in the outer corner of his eye.

He was crying.

He broke the kiss, your lips begging to stay connected to his. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself that kiss felt like home. The fact that he was shedding tears was unsettling, the car crash that was this relationship had officially gone beyond whiplash and into ‘trapped inside, in need of the jaws of life’ territory.

He took the same hand and pressed it to the center of his chest and left it there to put both his gloved hands on either side of your face, pressing his lips to your forehead. Their warmth left your skin and you immediately wanted it back.

He took the blindfold back off and smoothed out your hair quickly, putting the silk in his pocket and putting up his hood. The mask back where it belonged, those black pits where his eyes should be held an emotion that was pouring from every inch of his being. You felt like he was staring through you and straight into your soul. He stood beside the window with his bag slung over his shoulder. Who knew such strong emotion could be felt… seen, without ever laying eyes on the person emitting those feelings.

“Lock your window back.” He nodded toward you and promptly climbed out just as you heard the front door opening, he was gone before you even had a chance to get a second look as he ran off.

You did as he asked and locked the window before checking your appearance in the mirror, a mess was reflected back at you. You looked as if you’d been lost at sea. Tangled hair and ashen skin covered in streaked makeup. The churning in your stomach only rocked the proverbial boat more.

After a deep breath you brushed your hair and pulled the makeup wipes from your bag to clean up with.

“Hey!” You heard a sharp knock on the bedroom door and answered it while still wiping away at your face.

“What’s up?” You asked your sister as she pushed past you.

“Just checking on you before I went to bed, Lukey and I were out there for longer than we meant to be.” She shrugged on her way to jump on the bed, “Ow! Fuck.” She winced and picked up her bare foot, rubbing the sole with her thumb as she picked up the offending item.

“Who’s ring?” She asked, holding it up for you to see.

“Oh it’s just Anakin’s!” You lied, laughing anxiously and plucked it from her fingers, encasing it in your own hand. “Probably just fell out of my bag.”

“He has such a weird taste in jewelry. What even is that?” She pointed to your closed fist, and watched as you peeled back your fingers and exposed your palm.

It wasn’t a lie, it was Anakin’s.

“A centipede.” You swallowed, staring at the hunk of metal. “It- he always wears this one. I don’t… I’m not sure how it ended up in my bag.”

Your throat felt dry, your palms started to sweat. You felt like you might be sick. Why did he have Anakin’s ring? He hardly ever takes it off.

Diary Entry: September 3rd

I should have never taken those fucking rings off. I had to lie to you. It’s stupid I know but lying about something little like that is almost worse than the big secret you know? Cause I don’t want you to think I’m untrustworthy, I am. I’m very trustworthy.

You just let me shoot what you thought was a loaded gun in your mouth. I’d say that means you trust me quite a bit. Ghost, not me I mean. You trust Ghost with your life, but you can’t trust Anakin enough to tell him you love him?

Date

September 3rd (1:45 am)

Anakin jogged to the end of the driveway and hopped into the front seat of his car, taking off his mask and gloves. With the steering wheel in both hands he leaned forward to rest his forehead on the back of his hands. Keeping his grip at the top of the wheel with one hand he leaned back again, looking up at the roof of his car, his other hand going to pinch the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone started ringing, he quieted himself and quickly strategized a set of half truths and full lies that he might need to use before answering the phone.

“Hey princess.” He sounded cheery as he picked up the phone, “lucky you, I was just going out to smoke.”

“Oh?” You asked, feeling relieved to hear that he sounded fine. Maybe ghost didn’t chop off his finger after all. “Sorry, I- I have a weird question.”

“I love weird questions.” He snorted, you could hear him flip open his zippo lighter and snap it shut after a long inhale.

“Are you missing any rings?” You asked, hoping he said no and that this was just a very odd coincidence.

You heard rustling on the other end of the line while Anakin frantically searched his pockets, coming up one ring short.

“Yeah I am actually, why?” He answered clearing his throat nervously.

“Which one?”

“My many legged lad.” He answered, instinctively flicking his cigarette ash with anxiety, the miniature embers floating down to his jeans. He quickly swiped them away and tried to remain focused. “I took it off to shower at your place last night.”

“I figured the cat knocked it off the sink or something.” He shrugged to himself, hoping it was enough of a lie to convince you that maybe Ghost snatched it off the sink.

“S-somehow it ended up in um, my bag I guess.” You said, turning the jewelry over in your palm, placing it on the nightstand beside the bed.

“Huh, well that’s fucking weird.” He chuckled, “I don’t know, babe. Just keep it safe for me til you get back I guess sweetheart.”

“I will, I’ve got it on the nightstand right now.” You answered, licking your bottom lip.

“Thanks babydoll, listen, I gotta go back inside.” He grumbled, sucking air through his teeth the way he always did on his last drag of his cigarette. “I love you doll. Sleep good.”

“Night Ani, text me when you’re home.”

“You got it baby." Anakin answered, his voice low and smooth.

A perfectly normal conversation. A perfectly normal explanation on his part. A completely plausible assumption that Ghost simply took it from Anakin. Though you’d never known him to be brazen enough to come around with Anakin there and awake.

A perfectly dreadful whisper floated in one ear and out the other.

—————-

Date

September 3rd (2:27 am)

Anakin walked circles around his car, desperate to find an escape, an excuse, an explanation. Something, anything to help him backtrack. He couldn’t go back to your cabin tonight. He’d made you lock the windows and he knew Luke would quadruple check that the front door was locked. He didn’t know your sister or Luke’s sleep habits so he didn’t feel comfortable picking the lock.

He would have to tough it out until tomorrow night.

You were very much in the same boat as him. Waiting anxiously to see if he would come back, to see what would happen.

You wanted to call Anakin again, just to hear his voice, to listen to the calming comfort of it. To affirm that all was well, he was safe and fine. That was the only reason. You just wanted to make sure he was safe. Anakin was perfectly capable of handling himself, but to your knowledge he didn’t own any weapons that he could defend himself with. As far as you knew, Anakin Skywalker was sweet and kind and soft. He was loving and gentle. He was the perfect man, the most wonderful thing to walk into your life.

Anakin loves you and you love him. You love him so much, so much that it hurts. You love him so much that you’ve refused to say it. To protect him, to protect yourself, to protect Ghost from the hurt of it.

That’s just it though, there is Ghost. He’s there at every corner, he’s the creak in the floor boards at night, he’s the figure you see in the corner of your eye, he’s the creepy feeling of being watched, the voice you swear you hear saying your name.

He cares for you, and he cares deeply. You know without having to hear it from him that he believes you’ve hung the sun and the moon, he knows all the stars in the galaxy twinkle just for you and he believes you should be treated as such.

For all his wrong doings he’s done something right, not the helpful little things nor the occasional softness he’s begun to show.

No it’s something else.

It’s a feeling so oddly tangible that you can feel it in your throat each time you swallow. There isn’t a name for it, no term that you’ve ever heard could properly define it. You know that much to be true.

It’s a pull, a strong and undeniable tether. Like a child and their security blanket. Visible or not, where there is one there is always the other.

You’d miss him if he were gone, much like you’d miss the comfort of a fresh from the dryer blanket. The fuzzy warmth that wraps you up so tightly, the feeling of being tucked away from the world in safety.

That heat fades quickly, just like he does. He’s present one moment and the next he’s left you alone and you have to start the cycle all over again. You stare at your reflection and watch the world tumble around you and he watches you from behind the glass until he’s ready to come out again.

You want to fold him up and lay him across the end of your bed. Within reach at all times, you don’t want the dryer door between you anymore. You don’t want the few moments of heat from the fabric.

You want consistency.

Anakin can give you consistency in a way that no one else ever has. You never have to worry about him leaving or being disloyal, you never have to voice your feelings or opinions if you don’t want to because he just knows. You never have to worry about anything. Except for Ghost.

With Ghost you know that you are without a doubt the safest person alive. You don’t have to think, you can just be and know he is there to do anything and everything for you. You never have to worry about anything. Except for Anakin.

————-

Date

September 3rd

Hiking had never been your favorite summertime activity, but you’d come to realize it wasn’t because of all the walking or the bugs, it wasn’t even because of the horrid, atrocious memory of the time you’d walked through poison ivy.

You didn’t like it because it gave you too much time to think. That was exactly the opposite of what you needed right now. Right now you needed nothing, you needed the cold emptiness that comes along with burying yourself in something that took up all your brain power until there was none left to dwell on your troubles.

By the time you’d reached your destination you were drenched with sweat in the most uncomfortable way imaginable. Your shirt stuck to you, the cups of your bra were damp and itchy, your shorts had ridden up and you weren’t entirely sure that you were wearing shoes instead of walking barefoot in a bog.

“Luke.” You grumbled, taking a long drink from your water bottle. “How long have we been out here?”

“About two hours.” He replied casually, not nearly as winded as you and your sister. “Let’s eat and we’ll head back.”

“Are we lucky enough to be on one of those trails that the start is long but the loop around is short?” Your sister asked, wiping her forehead with the inside of the collar of her shirt.

“You’re both wimps,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes, passing out sandwiches and chips. “No, the way back is the way we came.”

“You’re joking.” You complained with a scrunched up expression.

“No ma’am.” Luke responded and thumbed over his shoulder at the overlook you’d made the journey to see. Yes it was beautiful, but worth the blister forming on the back of your ankle? Definitely not.

“Unless you’d like to take a dip off the cliff edge.” He snickered, knowing damn well that you’d rather gnaw off your fingers than jump from this height. “It’d be a couple minutes swim to shore and you’d be at the cabin.”

“No way really?” You said, standing up and biting into your sandwich as you walked cautiously closer to the edge. Gazing down you saw the dock, your eyes traveling up the tiny- hardly visible- dirt path until you reached the cabin.

He was right, you tracked your hiking trail up the curve of the incline you’d suffered through, it was a massive arc. Leaving you staring at the comfort of the cabin, so close but impossibly far away. You looked for a moment more, the lake sparkling like glitter in the bright sunshine. A few boats disrupting the water as they sped past, far off the shore.

You snapped a few pictures and scrolled through them, nearly choking on your food as you spotted something you’d missed with your naked eye. Only seeing it now that you were scrutinizing the photos quality to decide which one you’d keep.

“Jesus, you alright?” Lauren asked, watching you thump the side of your fist against your chest. Breathing heavily through your nose while chewing the food to swallow it and chase it down with a gulp of water.

“M’fine.” You coughed, looking back down at your phone and then to the landscape below to see if he was still there.

You should’ve expected to find him, expected the way he made himself at home on the porch, rocking in a rocking chair. The scene was still jarring, even more so when you realized he wasn’t wearing his hoodie.

His bare arms on display, his chest and abdomen covering by a loose black tank top. You frantically tried to zoom in with your camera. But of course all you could see was a fuzzy blur of inked skin.

What luck.

He was there, in broad daylight without a staple piece of his ensemble, one he didn’t remove in front of you. Now you understood why he told you he’d be recognizable if you were to see his skin. He was covered in tattoos.

And it’s your unfortunate luck that despite being so close to him, it’d take an hour to get there. Your great luck that he’d left himself vulnerable to your gaze at a distance that would prove impossible to decipher his identity. He was doing this purposely, there was no doubt about it. Why else would he do something so risky?

Ghost was baiting you.

Like the stupid little fish you were, you nibbled on the hook until he was able to reel you in.

‘I see you’ You texted him,

‘Creep.’ He texted back, standing up from his rocking chair and walking to the front porch steps. He waved dramatically, the sun shining down on him and catching on the white plastic of his mask, making him plainly visible. You watched through the zoomed in and grainy image of your phone as he moved, hoping maybe it would clear up and you could see something identifying.

Suddenly you were reminded of something you’d learned in school, a book you’d read… maybe Nancy Drew? Signaling using a mirror or something reflective to catch a person’s attention, sometimes used as a means of communication in Morse code. Though this wasn’t nearly as sophisticated.

He had pulled out both his knives and flipped them, the sunlight refracting off the shiny silver blades erratically until it became one concentrated beam as he crossed the sharp edges over each other. Forming an X to direct to light straight at your face, promptly blinding you.

“Fuck.” You winced, stumbling backwards and causing your sister to gasp.

“Christ, what the hell are you doing?” She asked worriedly, standing up and walking toward you but not daring to move as close to the cliffs edge as you were.

“A- a bug or something.” You lied, rubbing your eyes to clear up the imprinted flash of light you saw each time you let your eyelids fall shut.

*ping*

‘See me now?’

‘Asshole.’ You mumbled under breath, looking back over the cliffs edge to see that he’d managed to get out of sight in the time it took for you to recover.

“Alright, let’s go back. I’m hot and sweaty.” Luke said, standing up and stretching. He packed away our trash and then shoved Lauren forward when she complained.

“I’ll push you off the edge if you don’t shut up and leave me be.” He snorted, dodging her water bottle that she swung by the handle at him.

“C’mon let’s go before you kill each other.” You said with a laugh, feeling better now that Ghost was -probably- gone for now.

After another hour of hiking back down the steep incline you’d just traveled up, you were grateful to collapse on the cold wood floor of the living room and bask in the cool air supplied by the window unit nearby.

——————————————————————————

Diary Entry: September 3rd

I’m so jittery waiting around for you guys to get the hell out of that stupid cabin. I have shit to do and you’re gumming up the works. I need to get your bathing suits, I scouted out around the lake last night when I couldn’t sleep. Not in my Ghost mask, I used a bandana. I think it’d be real unfortunate to get the cops called because Ghostface is roaming the pine woods.

Anyway, your bathing suits. I’m taking the ones I disapprove of. Did you know there’s a cabin full of jockey college boys right across the lake from you? You better not have planned that. They have a perfect view of the dock you’ll be swimming off of. Which means they were probably watching you last night when you were having your drinks.

I’m the only one who can watch you like that. Especially when you’re gonna be prancing around with that fucking ass of yours on display. ‘Ani, I’m just gonna wear it to tan in!’ Yeah alright. That’s the only reason doll? That’s the reason you brought a thong bikini to the lake? With a cabin full of testosterone waiting to catch a whiff of you from across the way?

I can’t believe you’re so stupid sometimes. I love you but damn do you have no self awareness? I’d let you wear it when I’m around. But I’m not. Not the way I want to be at least. I want to be there fucking you with my eyes and smacking your cute ass every chance I get. If I’m not standing there watching over you then those idiots might get the idea you’re wearing that shit for them and not me.

They don’t know you’re tanning, making that bangin’ fucking body sun kissed for my viewing pleasure when you return. They just see ass and tits and drool. I might drool yeah… but it’s only for you. I love you. I have eyes only for you and I always will.

Those dick-wads don’t know you or care about you. They lust over every bitch they see. You don’t want to make it easier for them do you? No? That’s what I thought. I know you didn’t do it purposely little doe. You can’t help it. You’re used to me being by your side and keeping you safe, used to wearing whatever you want when I’m around because you know I’ll fuck shit up if someone looks at you wrong. You’ve gotten used to it and didn’t use your little girl brain to make adjustments for the fact that Anakin wouldn’t be there for you.

Just another reason you should’ve brought me along.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Oh my fucking god it’s so fucking hot outside. What the hell is wrong with Luke? Making you walk up that MOUNTAIN. I totally would’ve followed but I’m actually busy trying not to fucking drown in my own sweat. There’s a bunch of reasons Ghost is mostly nocturnal. This is one of them.

I was being baked alive.

Anywho, I showered and now I smell like you, so I’m gonna wander about, have a wee little snack. By the way, I’m really sad you forgot the mustard.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Baby, don’t be mad I didn’t mean to almost make you trip. I just thought it would be a little funny. I was right. But I’m still kind of sorry.

I wish I could’ve seen your face.

‘Oh my god! His shoulders are out!’ Scandalous.

Risky? Yes. Worth it. Yes, can’t wait to hear you whine about it when I fuck you again.

——————-

Date

September 3rd

“Okay, let’s get ready for the lake.” Luke stood up and clapped his hands together once, a loud *pop* resounding through the living room.

“Already on it.” You huffed, throwing yourself forward into a sitting position and hopping to your feet.

You entered your room and noticed two things immediately: 1) the ring is gone 2) your red one piece swimsuit is on the bed. Upon further investigation you discovered a note laying on top of it.

Written in quick scratch was a short note from Ghost.

‘Doe,

I’ve taken the liberty of making adjustments to your wardrobe.‘

‘Adjustments?’ You thought, grabbing your bag and dumping it out on the bed.

The only things missing were your other bathing suits and your shower stuff, quickly grabbing the red suit you rushed to the bathroom and locked yourself in to change. Pushing back the shower curtain you saw your body wash and shampoo, the walls still wet from his shower. You couldn’t help but let out an annoyed huff.

Your phone vibrated on the side of the small bathroom sink, sliding across the porcelain and falling into the sink basin. You quickly fixed the straps of your bathing suit and retrieved your phone before the leaky tap could wet the screen.

A video message awaited you from ghost, the image from the thumbnail made you laugh in a choked kind of surprise. He was outside giving you a leather thumbs up, your hot pink string bikini on overtop of his black hoodie. As you pressed play the video was mostly silent other than the nature noises of the background until he flipped the camera around and zoomed in.

A low modified whistle left his lips as his camera focused on the bathroom window, your bare back in the frame for a moment before he shifted the camera slightly to get the mirror in front of you, showcasing your breasts as you changed into your swimsuit.

You swiftly spun around going to the window to scan the area, he couldn’t have possibly gotten too far away. Throwing open the window you stuck your head out and looked to the left and then to the right where Ghost had suddenly appeared, inches from your face.

“Ow! Fuck, agh-“ You yelped, whacking your head on the window pane while he laughed at your expense.

“Hey! You okay?” Luke banged yelled from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Y-yeah!” You shouted back, turning to look inside the bathroom again before turning back around to see Ghost had crouched down, out of view if you were to open the bathroom door.

“What are you doing? You’re takin’ ages.”

“Uh- sorry. Wardrobe difficulties.” You squeaked out, glancing back at ghost who was still wearing your hot bikini bikini top, sans bottoms… which was honestly a bit disappointing. You heard Luke walk off, yelling to your sister that you were probably ‘on the throne’.

“Who is he? The Queen?” Ghost’s mechanical voice came from beneath the mask.

“Close enough.” You shrugged your shoulders and watched as he stood up to his full height, his knees cracking upon the ascent.

“Why did you take my shit Ghost? I wanted to wear that!” Whisper shouting at him while you hung the upper half of your body out the window.

“That’s why I took it.” He said plainly. “I don’t want you looking like a fucking slut out there without me around to keep other eyes off you.”

“Who the hell is gonna see me out here!? You shouldn’t have even seen me out here!” You pointed angrily.

“Shut up, I know you’re happy I’m here.” He snarled, getting right in your face, reaching up to grab your chin. “I heard you last night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoffed as if you hadn’t done exactly what he was insinuating.

“I don’t want the girl who moans for me to be ogled at by some fucking frat guys.” He barked, shaking your chin and digging in his leather fingers.

You turned bright pink. You couldn’t argue with his statement. You did moan for him. Under him, over him, even without him.

“What frat guys?” You stuttered, avoiding acknowledgement to the first half of his sentence.

“Across the lake.” He pointed, flicking out his knife to gesture in their direction. “Big group of ‘em. Paid them a visit last night just to check things out, you know I worry about you.” He said in a quieter tone, bringing the blade of his knife to your bottom lip and tapping it with the flat side.

“I would’ve never known they were there if you hadn’t told me.” You narrowed your eyes, speaking carefully as the knife rested against your lip.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Or maybe not.”

“What’s that supposed- shit, why?” You flinched and brought your hand to your mouth touching the nick he’d left when he quickly jerked the knife away.

“So you’ll think of me when you’re yapping to some no-count bitch boy from across the way.” He snapped back. His leathered thumb came up to spread the blood across your bottom lip and past it onto your tongue.

“It’s just a bonus that you bleed so fucking pretty.” He pushed your tongue down with his thumb, rubbing the crimson liquid into the squishy muscle, then curling the same thumb behind your bottom row of teeth and shifting his cock in his jeans with his free hand.

“Clean it for me baby?” His modified voice lower than usual.

“No, use your mouth doe.” He chuckled when you reached out to grab the knife from him to rinse in the sink.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows but opened your mouth anyway. He placed the blade on your tongue and nodded at you.

“Now suck it.” He grumbled, affectionately patting your cheek twice before using two fingers to push up your chin and close your mouth around the cool steel.

————————————————————————

“What happened?” You sister asked, touching the scabbed line that traveled up your ass cheek and disappeared beneath your swimsuit.

“Well, I just fell.” You muttered, pulling the hem line to cover more of it. “Don’t really know what cut me but it happened a little bit ago.”

“You need to be more careful.” She shook her head, finishing up her job of rubbing in your sun tan lotion. “I swear you’re worse than my toddler.”

“Oh shut up, I am not.” You scoffed, “there’s a difference between something you don’t have any control over and choosing to shove a pebble up your nose.”

“I- that was only one time! When will you let that go?” She asked grumpily. “What am I supposed to do, carry around a fucking periscope so I can see behind me?”

“I’m not- I was kidding.” You sighed, shoving her out in front of you, making her stumble.

You clicked the lotion shut and shook it up, slamming it down on the heel of your hand before putting a generous amount in your palm. You slapped it onto her back and rubbed it in, ignoring the hissing sound she made when the wet glob of sunscreen in your palm smacked her flesh and splattered messily across her skin.

“Caleb is just… an explorer.” Lauren said, trying to make it sound better than it was.

“I never shoved anything up my nose.” Luke chimed in from behind his sunglasses, sitting up against one of the dock posts. “Lauren, you know I was an ‘explorer’.”

“No. You were a bug boy.” You snorted, looking over at him with a little smirk.

“So what? I liked… like bugs. They’re cool okay?” He grumbled waving them off.

“Remember when you had Ants on a Log with actual ants?” You giggled, Lauren crouching down as she let out a guffaw.

“I was seven!” He said defensively, crossing his arms.

“Caleb is two. He can shove a pebble up his nose and it can be excused.” Lauren snorted, catching her breath. “You were seven, you knew better. You have no room to talk.”

“Okay mom,” Luke huffed, you knew without a doubt that he was rolling his eyes behind those glasses. “At least I don’t still pick my nose.”

“Hey! Sometimes you just gotta get up in there.” Lauren pointed at him, a scowl on her face. “Don’t lie, you pick your nose. Everybody does!”

“Uh… I mean I technically pick my nose. Just with a tissue.” You said, supporting your sister in your useless argument.

“So you’re both gross then.” Luke gagged and grabbed his stomach dramatically.

“If I’m gross, so are you.” You said, getting settled on your towel. “Lauren’s right. Everyone picks their nose.”

“You’re both horrible.” He grumbled, shaking his head before standing up and lowering himself into an inner-tube so that he could float on the water.

You all had a peaceful first half of your day, it was refreshing after the hike to relax in the sunshine, letting the heat lull you into a state of calm and the opportunity to think of nothing save for the concentration of singling out different nature noises just because you could. Cicadas, the occasional grunt of a bullfrog, Whippoorwills calling out to each other in the trees, the gentling lapping of the lake against the dock.

None of the city sounds that clouded your head and made it feel cluttered.

It was cleansing, a nice reset for your mental state. Exactly what you needed, exactly what you were so happy to be here for. Now if only you could get some clarity on the difficulty you’d return to after your weekend of being at ease.

Even in peace times nothing is perfect.

The gentleness of the world you’d drifted into was being infiltrated. The distant sounds of a boat zipping through the water at much higher speed that it should’ve, especially with the water skier attached to the towline. What could make it worse? Two jet skis flanked the boat at a good distance away, though it was clear they were all in one group. Shouting and laughing like drunken fools, which you were sure they were considering the way they were behaving.

You licked your bottom lip, reminded of the small nick Ghost had left you with. These must be the ‘no-count bitch boys’ he was referring to earlier. You had to admit, he was definitely right about that. Wrong about your willingness to speak with them though.

You huffed and stood up, deciding now would be a good time to take a refreshing break in the water. The liquid enveloped your skin, the heat of the sun having beat down on you had your flesh soaking up the warmth so much that the water felt cold. In involuntary shiver tickled your spine as you swam over to Luke where he’d floated a way from the dock.

Slowly but surely the boat along with its entourage weaved its way across the water to your side of the lake, you pushed Luke’s inner-tube back toward the dock to give -them- yourself some space.

“Thanks babe.” Luke said, dipping his hand into the water and flicking it at your face.

“Hey! I was trying to be nice!” You scowled, reflexively sliding your hands beneath the tube to dump Luke out of it.

“I could’ve drowned!” He gasped as he resurfaced, taking off his sunglasses so he could wipe the water from his face and shake out his hair.

“Oh whatever, don’t be whiny.” You grinned.

“Me? You’re telling me not to whine?” Luke tossed his glasses up onto the dock and made his way toward you quickly. “All I did was flick you with water and you tried to drown me!”

“I did not!” Squealing as he lifted you up and tossed you farther into the water. How such a scrawny little guy could do such a thing was beyond you, but you had no time to contemplate.

You only had time for revenge. Squinting beneath the murky waters you made your way to Luke, hearing him call out your name in garbled syllables.

Ever since you’d known Luke, he’s had an irrational fear of the tiny possibility that there may be an alligator in any body of water. Didn’t matter how far from the wetlands of the states you were. There was always a slim chance, to him at least.

Holiday Inn pool? ‘But it’s outside, it could’ve crawled in! Will you just check it?’

Tiny dollar-store-bought blow up pool in your backyard? ‘But the creek! The creek’s back there… I’m not going in till you do.’

It got to the point that it was so severe his dad had to come up with a ‘gator gauge’ which was really just a hand-held tennis ball launcher he’d spray painted green and put a ‘gator free’ sticker on the back of so he could prove it was safe. Top-notch, high security, military grade ‘gator gauge’ that doubled as the lazy way to play fetch with their dog.

It was mean. Maybe a bit cruel… but he deserved it. So you swam behind him and put the heels of your palms together, spreading your fingers and creating jaws. You’d disappear from sight for long enough that a hypothetical alligator could’ve dragged you off and you heard Luke call out for you again.

Your lungs started to burn and you knew it was time to enact your plan. Luke stood on his tiptoes in the water, the perfect opportunity to press your fingers and nails into the muscle of his flexed calf. He screamed and thrashed about, you let him go and backed up so you could resurface. You popped up and sucked in a deep breath that turned into a choked laughing fit.

“You little bitch!” He yelled, splashing as he swam at you, pushing you under the water by your shoulders. He quickly pulled you back up and shoved your shoulder. A pink tint to his cheeks from embarrassment, he huffed and splashed a wave of water at you.

“I could’ve drowned!” You mocked him, pretending to cough.

In your short time of distraction the boat and its occupants had cut the engine and let the momentum carry them closer. The jet skis now tethered to the back, the ladder down in the water. Despite the safer option a group of five guys jumped over the side and made themselves at home in your space.

“Hey! How are you ladies?” One of them asked, completely ignoring that Luke was right there with you.

“No soliciting, thanks.” Your sister popped her head up and shook her left hand to show off her wedding ring.

“Whoa, didn’t mean anything like that!” He laughed and his friends agreed. “Just wanted to say hello, see if you guys were up for a drink.”

“I think we’re just fine.” Luke spoke up from behind you.

“I wasn’t asking you.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Sighing you turned around and swam until you were able to touch the lake bottom, walking the rest of the way to the shore.

“Hope you’re going to get some mixers.” A different guy shouted.

“Going to get a restraining order if you don’t leave.” You shot back over your shoulder, earning a round of laughs from them, the opposite of what you’d hoped for.

“C’mon. Don’t be like that! Just give us a chance. We’re good people.”

“Good at ruining my day.” Luke mumbled, following behind me and scooping up his stuff and getting ready to leave.

“You’re going? Serious?” One of them laughed.

“You came over here uninvited, you’re not entitled to our company.” You said, turning around and walking toward the house.

“That may be true but you’ve certainly made up for it by jiggling that ass.” His friends snickered and one smacked his arm.

You reminded yourself that you were here to have fun. Not to argue with a man who has half the brain capacity of a drunk squirrel.

Deciding you couldn’t let them win, you figured you’d beat them in your own way. You continued on without another word, pretending you hadn’t heard them, instead pulling out your phone and sending a simple text message.

‘You were right.’

The answer was an immediate: ‘I know.’

Diary entry: September 3rd

I hate to say I told you so. But I will.

I. Told. You. So.

I was having a great time watching you, it was reminiscent of how I used to watch you have dinner and I’d eat with you. You’re so cute and playful… I love you so much. I know that Luke is super gay, that’s not why I’m jealous. I’m not worried about that. I’m not stupid and I’m not paranoid, I know better. I’m jealous because it should’ve been me that you were playing around with.

I’m jealous cause you didn’t invite me. I’m jealous that you got to swim and I’m sitting in a tree, soaking my shirt with sweat. I’m jealous that Luke had a beer. I’m jealous that your sister took a nap. I’m jealous that those shit-for-brains tried to talk to you. (I love your sisters fucking comeback though.)

I’m jealous that they got a better look at your sweet little ass than I did too.

I’m pleased that you were so off-put by their behavior that you texted me little doe. What a very good girl you can be, but, oh so good at being bad too. You’re just like me. Maybe I’m making it worse, maybe better. I don’t know, I don’t really care either.

I’m just excited.

My little doe is feeding that flame of deviancy hanging out deep within your stomach. I knew you had it in there somewhere, gods you’re just so fucking perfect. I’ve never felt more lucky. ‘Ghost, I’ve got one more day here. What if they come back?’

What if indeed.

Men can be unpredictable. A woman is safer in a pit of snakes that being alone with a man she doesn’t know. Which is why I try so desperately to protect you especially in situations like this. That delivery guy? He seemed harmless. But I dug a bit deeper and well, he wasn’t so harmless after all.

Now, these boys might be disgusting pigs who prefer to wallow in the squalor and bask in the glory of their custom made beer can wall. They don’t deserve anything too harsh. Also; Wow. It’s amazing how they’ve managed to drink that much and none of them have been hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. But back to business, I personally don’t feel like killing anyone. I know for a fact you don’t. I also know that even if I did feel like it, I couldn’t because you’d definitely know it was me. Then what the hell would I do?

You had no good ideas. Which is not your fault, you just can’t think about these things on your own. You need guidance and that’s what I’m here for. So, I settled on something you’ve never done, I haven’t done in a long time, and it’s not technically illegal here… just heavily frowned upon. I hate their shit attitudes, they’re gross and they’ve disrespected you and that’s unacceptable. So a nice little bit of property ‘destruction’ is in order. Middle school memories, how sweet.

TP the cabin? Absolutely. Destroy their beer can wall? Definitely. Silly string their vehicles? Duh.

Fuck you before and after? Yes. Always.

Part Fifteen

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwars @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero r @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco @demieyesore @hemmoxloser

Thanks to @rottencandyblood and all their love❤️

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

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melobin · 1 year ago

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melo waffled in her friends dms but it came to 1000 words .,,, sorry anton!!

you just needed to pee!! didn’t know sungchan was in there let alone in the shower fucking his fist ., the door unlocked (he’s the only one who doesn’t lock the door) you both freeze a little when you enter you not knowing what to do but your eyes linger on his body because he’s just so attractive… arms and and tensed form the pleasure, water droplets falling down his skin, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy. swollen lips … you think he’d stop but he doesn’t,, probably goes as far as to hold your eyes as he does it,.. cumming so quickly and so hard bc you’re watching him .,,

nothing happens that night but you end up going back to anton’s bed soaked with images of sungchan in your head and sungchan ends up fucking his fist all over again bc the whole thing made him hard .., this time with you in his head

you fell bad and wanna tell anton about what happened but you can’t ., you like the fact it’s a secret between you and sungchan. but you don’t expect your little secret to become more!! not when it’s just you and anton in dorms. .. anton has to go to the company to do soemthing and kisses you softly saying he’ll be a few hours but he wnats you to stay so you do !! but whilst you’re there sungchan comes back and the tension between the two of you is through the roof.,, especially because you’re alone together, you don’t mean for anything to happen but when you’re alone in the kitchen, his fingers so close to your skin, you have to cave for him and let him press you agaisnt the counter and kiss you,, have to let him bend you over it and fuck you there with his hand in your hair and his lips by your ear. he’d be so vocal, moaning into your ear, telling you how wrong this is because he knows you shouldn’t be doing it but you just feel so good squeezing around his cock he can’t help it. “feel so bad for anton fuck but it feels like he doesn’t even fuck you”. you’re just squeezing around him so tightly.,, his cock sliding so nicely inside of you bc of how soaked you are :(( he feels like anton’s never even been inside of you with how you’re reacting to him.

he finds out anton doesn’t fuck you !! when he says that you just whimper out that “he doesn’t” and it just sets something off in sungchan.,, he groans into your ear, fingers moving from your hair to wrap around your throat “fuck a pretty little thing like you needs to be fucked every day” he rambles a lot during sex.,, everything that comes to his mind comes out his mouth and he just slips out a “if you were mine i’d leave you unable to walk for the next week”

sungchan fucked you full of his cum then took you to the shower just to press you against the wall and drop to his knees to eat it out of you, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing his face right against you, letting you pull at his hair.

anton comes back probably half an hour after sungchan is finally done with you.,, it’s late so it’s dark out., not unusual for you to be in bed when he gets there and when he comes in and sees you he can tell you’re a little worn out and he asks if you’re okay but you jsut say you spent the hours studying and staring at your laptop screen for so long made you tired :( doesn’t know the real reason is because sungchan is fucking you dumb, left you needing rest and relaxing because of it. sungchan probably stay with you till he hears the door open, just so you’re not alone but as soon as the front door opens he’s gone, not needing anton or any of the others to know he was with you

anton loves his sungchan hyung so much !! he trusts him with you, knows he’d help you if you needed someone when anton wasn’t around. you go to the same gym as the boys., going the same time as them so anton can help you but even anton gets his own schedule it cuts into the time he goes so he can’t :( wonbin also ends up too busy to go so anton says it’s okay !! you can go with sungchan so you don’t have to go alone !! he genuinely thinks he’s just being a good boyfriend and helping you so you don’t have to go to the gym alone, doesn’t realise he’s basically sending you there to get fucked silly every night you’re there

would probably get to the point where sungchan finds it funny that anton basically sent you to get fucked without realising it. sungchan spends his whole time working out fucking you with his eyes and he knows you’re doing the same with him. the gym has private changing rooms, basically enabling the two of you to fuck whenever you want however long you want when you’re there because you won’t be caught !!! until seunghan started going to the gym with you two again.. hes not that stupid.. he knows sungchan is fucking you on the low… he wants his own turn !!

sungchan usually fucks you against the wall in the showers but seunghan wants his turn and you can’t turn him down at all. thought of seunghan who fucks you agaisnt the wall with your legs around his waist, isn’t shy of looking at you whilst he does it, makes sure your eyes are open and you’re watching because sungchans stood next to to you, head against the wall, hair wet against his face, tugging at his cock as he’s watching you get fucked bc the sight is just so fucking hot. but also you who’s getting a little too loud from how seunghan is splitting you open so he tells sungchan to kiss you and he does ofc he does but seunghan tells him too just so he can thrust that little bit harder into you and make you struggle to kiss sungchan ..,

#✧ hard hours ✧#riize smut #sungchan smut #anton smut #seunghan smut #✧ melody posts

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silentscrying · 8 days ago

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🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track four: a conflict of interest

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, MIDTERMS, alcohol, PTSD/trauma, panic attack, naoya, discussion of car crash (not directly described), mention of deceased parent, literal wholesome sleeping together. || sfw. 8.4k words.

YOU’VE ALWAYS LOVED fall—the sharp, cool note that tacks itself onto the breeze, the crunch of leaves beneath the wheels of your longboard, the early sunsets over the shapes of the campus skyline. Usually, a week this beautiful would find you outside enjoying it. But for the same reason that you haven’t gotten Takuma alone since Saturday, you’ve been cooped up indoors, frying your brain.

The problem is midterms.

The week is a blur of class and homework and reporting and rehearsals, and you hardly ever see Takuma, or really anyone outside of your classes and rehearsals, save for the brief comings and goings of your housemates at strange hours of the day. You’re all drowning in work, and any wish you have of talking to Takuma without the rest of his band present washes itself away in an avalanche of assignments and emails and post-it note to-do lists all over your desk.

When you see him with Megumi and Yuji and Kirara, the both of you dance around all the things you want to say. Because you have to. You don’t have time to flesh this out, put a label on it.

You and Toge spend hours wrapping up your project story. Your comp midterm is eight to nine double-spaced pages of hell, excluding citations, and on top of it you’re balancing media law case studies and your elective comparative lit class.

And this is one of your lighter semesters.

Your housemates don’t have it any easier, Yuta and Maki wrapped up in senior capstone proposals, Nobara grinding her way through the rest of her gen. eds and practicing marketing presentations in the mirror, even Toge scrambling to get work done.

Between cramming and writing and squeezing naps in wherever you can, you and Takuma orbit around the unspoken truth of your kiss on the roof, borderline flirty but never crossing that line. Not over the phone.

you: how goes the algorithming you: or whatever the fuck takuma: I’M DYING takuma: KM GOING CROSSEYED takuma: havent touched grass in days. eons even you: :( same you: we’ll touch grass when this is over takuma: if it snows i will literally dig it up for you istg

You laugh despite yourself, sighing as you lean back in your desk chair, looking out the window. God, you want to kiss this boy again. Fuck school, fuck your busy schedules. Christ, you can’t believe it’s only Wednesday.

you: aw for me takuma: anything for you🫡

It shouldn’t make you blush so furiously in the privacy of your own room, but it does.

A soft knock on the doorframe draws your attention, and you spin in your chair to find Yuta leaning there. His dark hair is a mess, like he’s just taken off a hat, and his cheeks are red with the bite of cold air. He must’ve just gotten home.

“Yuta!”

“Hey.” He grins, holds up his phone so you can see the time. “You eaten yet?” It’s a rhetorical question. You shake your head, recognizing the call to action for what it is, and close your laptop, joining him at the doorway. You need a break, anyway—you just wrapped up a draft of a paper, and you need to do something else before you look it over with fresh eyes.

“Wanna make stir fry?” you ask, and Yuta lights up.

“Read my mind.”

The kitchen is cast in gold as the sun sinks over the rooftops, and you smile at the little hello, my name is stickers on Yuta’s plants in the windowsill. As the two of you grab bowls and pans and ingredients from the fridge, you realize you haven’t really spent one-on-one time with him in a while. You’ve missed it.

“We haven’t done this in forever,” you say, tossing a green pepper over your shoulder. He catches it with one hand and puts it on the cutting board.

“I know,” he laughs, gentle in the same way that everything Yuta does is gentle, and you’re suddenly struck with the horrible thought of how much you’re going to miss him next year. “I feel like we haven’t had any one-on-one time recently. But I’ve been meaning to, uh… well, I should thank you, for giving me that time with Maki. I don’t know that I’d have made a move if not for you.”

“So you’re the one who made the move?” You grin, elbowing him fondly. “Maki wasn’t very forthcoming with the details.”

“I wouldn’t say I made the first move,” he admits. “I started making dinner, and then she started scribbling on something over by the plants. And I was so confused, and then I realized she’d bought these.” He gestures to the plant name tags, a fond smile on his face. Half the handwriting is Yuta’s loopy scrawl, and the other half is Maki’s more jagged counterpart. “She knew all their names. Which is crazy. Sometimes I barely remember.”

You move to the cutting board and start on the peppers while Yuta fires up the stovetop. “That’s sweet,” you say. “You guys are good together. I’ve only been waiting for like, an entire year.”

Yuta chuckles and looks over his shoulder at you. “I asked how she remembered all the names and she said something along the lines of did you know people actually listen when you talk, and I’ve never been particularly good at hiding my facial expressions.” You snort, because you know that better than anyone. “And then I said Toge definitely doesn’t, and she rolled her eyes and said I kept missing the point.”

“Oh, smooth.” You move over so Yuta can reach into the cabinet above you for the seasoning. “And then you asked what the point is?”

“Mhm.” Yuta hip-checks you lightly as he moves back to his place by the stove, and you relish the familiarity of it. He’s one of your best friends, and you’ve missed doing this with him, cooking with him, talking to him. “She said the point is I’m an oblivious dumbass who should just shut up and kiss her already. So I did.”

You have to put the knife down as your laugh bursts out, shaking your shoulders, because that’s the most Maki thing you’ve ever heard. “And you’re together now?”

“Mhm.” Yuta flushes a little. “She’s great. I wasn’t really gonna say anything… ever? She’s out of my league, Skip.”

It should maybe feel like a bigger deal that Maki and Yuta are finally a thing, but in a way, it’s like nothing has changed. They’ve always been close, and you’ve always known they’re perfect for each other. It felt inevitable, and now it’s happened, and it feels right.

“You’re both out of everyone’s league,” you correct, turning to lean against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest. “And neither of you think you deserve each other, which is exactly why you do.” He smiles, shy and small, and your heart warms in your chest. “I’m happy for you, Yuta.”

“Thanks.” He ducks his head a little, his tell-tale sign of embarrassment, like when Takuma scratches the back of his neck. God, why does everything remind you of Takuma?

Like he can read your mind, Yuta says, “Your turn. You and Ino? I know everyone’s in the loop except me.”

The next half hour or so passes with you explaining the details of your night with Takuma yet again, the smell of stir fry eventually drawing Toge out from the cave (his and Yuta’s bedroom) around the same time Nobara sweeps through the door with Maki in tow. It’s the first time the five of you have been in the same room outside of rehearsals all week.

“Ooh, my god,” Nobara sighs, smelling the stir fry. “That’s the good shit. I owe you my life.”

“You can do the dishes,” you suggest, and she deflates as she unwinds the scarf around her neck and tosses it on a hook with her coat.

“I’ve made a fatal mistake,” she says.

“How’re midterms?” Maki asks as she brushes past you, tossing her jacket onto a chair, and you shrug. In response, Toge puts his head face-down on the counter, and Maki looks to Yuta, waiting for his answer. It’s like they don’t know how they’re supposed to interact in front of you all, now that the whole band knows.

“You don’t have to dance around each other anymore,” Nobara points out, blunt as ever. “We’ve watched you do that for years. I honestly think I’d rather watch you be gross.”

Toge raises a brow. “Careful what you wish for.”

“Let’s break the ice! Let’s talk about it!” Nobara crows, grabbing you by the elbow. “Reenactment, Skip. You be Yuta.” She leans dramatically over the plants, pretending to write on the name tag stickers. “This one is Pikachu.” Yuta definitely does not have a plant named Pikachu. “You’re an obtuse asshole, Yuta Okkotsu,” Nobara says in a truly horrendous impression of Maki, turning around and grabbing you by the shoulders. “Now kiss me.”

“Oh my god,” Maki says flatly. “I hate you.”

“She didn’t call me an asshole!” Yuta says indignantly.

Maki nudges him with a shoulder, which is probably the closest thing to PDA you’ll get out of them for weeks. Nobara’s teasing will only make them less willing to show affection in front of the rest of you. Maybe it’s reverse psychology and that is what she wants.

“Table,” Yuta says, pointing to Toge. “Nobara, go sit in the corner and think about your actions. Maki, could you grab the plates?”

“Girlfriend privilege!” Nobara cries, not making any move to listen to Yuta. She grins at you and you can’t help but smile back. She’s being obnoxious about it, but she also held in her teasing about their relationship for ages until they figured it out on their own. You know she’s just as happy for them as you are.

“You better keep Ino away from this one,” Maki says as she dishes up the stir fry and slides the plates across the counter to Toge, who ferries them over to the table without complaint. Nobara wiggles her brows at you in a way that very obviously says you can try, but you will fail.

When the five of you crowd the little table in the makeshift dining room, it’s honestly the most relaxed you’ve felt all week. For an hour it’s just you and your best friends, talking and ranting and joking and eating some damn good stir fry, and you can forget about all the work piling up on your desk and the boy down the street you desperately need to talk to and the performance in two days that’ll decide your band’s fate. It’s good.

You grin at Nobara as she gestures with her hands while telling a story about this girl in her marketing class, at Toge trying and failing to steal the snap peas from Yuta’s plate, at Maki fondly watching it all unfold.

Despite her earlier complaints, Nobara doesn’t hesitate to get started on the dishes, and Toge dries while you sit at the stool by the counter and chat with them. Nobara shoves a plate at Toge to try and he nearly drops it onto one of the plants, earning him a look from Yuta very reminiscent of a parent scolding their child.

"Sorry, Snorlax," Toge says to the plant he nearly attacked. "Hey, these are helpful, actually. Good job, Maki."

You stare at the name tags, something starting to grow in the back of your mind. Hello! My name is...

"Yes," you breathe. And then you launch out of your seat and grab your notebook from the other room.

You have an idea.

—

You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, spinning a drumstick in your right hand as The Cull wraps up their ten-decibels-too-loud set onstage. Waiting in the wings, Hakari and another stage tech linger by your kit, waiting to swap it out, and the rest of your band goes through their usual pre-performance rituals.

Maki leans against the wall, eyes closed, moving her fingers along her bass without making any sound. Yuta’s quietly checking his tuning for the thousandth time tonight. Nobara does laps around the backstage area, humming and mouthing words to herself, her guitar carefully leaning against the wall beside you.

Toge is straight up just dancing to the other band’s music in the corner.

And you’re here, spinning your sticks between your thumb and index finger, index and middle, middle and ring, ring and pinky, back again. Back and forth, back and forth, the worn wood dancing across your knuckles.

Midterms are over. Projects and papers are turned in, exams are taken, laptops are strewn forgotten across the living room for the weekend. All your attention is here and now, Friday at The Fix, Battle of the Bands. Lifeblood might be a good word for it, you think, whatever this kind of rush is to you. It’s electric.

The Cull finishes with a screeching of guitars and a held-out note that could very possibly be classified as a scream, and then Panda takes the stage, the techs start moving, and the other band files past you in the backstage area.

You nod as they slip by and they return the gesture, not seeming all that interested, but you don’t care. It’s time.

Sliding onto the throne, you adjust the hi-hat and pound the kick a few times. Nobara winks at you from center stage, and you make eye contact with each of your bandmates in turn, confirming they’re tuned and plugged in and ready to go.

And then you launch into your new song, unable to help the smile spreading across your face.

It begins with a drum solo, a mild rhythm on the floor tom. You add the kick, then move to hat, and Maki comes in, then Toge, then the guitars. And then Nobara leans forward and starts to sing.

“You’re in the corner watchin’, at the party, Solo cup in hand. I’m on the dance floor, one more wild girl who needs a place to land.” You glance out over the crowd, stage light blinding you from your position toward the back of the stage. You can’t see shit, but it’s like you can feel his eyes on you.

“Been goin’ solo, flying so low, meet your eyes and draw you close.” Nobara yanks the mic off the stand and belts,“You ask my name, I tap your chest, and I say you already know!”

Power chord, two big beats, one, two, three, crash—

“Hello, my name is everything you ever asked your gods about. Hello, my name is somebody who needs a guy to take me out…”

The music washes over you, thrums from the soles of your sneakers to the tips of your fingers, gets you high on spotlights and amp feedback. You wrote this song about a lot of things. On a surface level, it’s Maki and Yuta’s song, drawn from the name tags on the kitchen plants. But on another level, it’s about Takuma, and you know your whole band knows it.

“Hello, hello, my name is yours if you want it,” Nobara finishes, and you finish with two cymbal hits and a kick, grabbing the cymbals between thumb and index finger immediately after to mute them. It’s a sharper finish than a lot of your songs, punchier, and it feels good.

“We’re Cursed Technique!” Nobara shouts, and Yuta plucks a few strings as he retunes for one of your older tracks. The set goes by all too fast, and then you’re finishing with Next Fix, the beat under your hands familiar and automatic. You’re on my mind at two a.m., you help me find deliverance, I think it’s time I get my fix.

You’d stay here forever if you could, just making music with your favorite people, but your set ends and you have to retreat backstage, Black Flash passing you in the wing as they prepare to round out the night.

“That was awesome,” Kasumi Miwa whispers as she passes you, and you grin.

“You’ll be awesome.”

When Mai appears around the corner, she stops short. You glance at Maki and realize Yuta’s hand is on the small of her back, and Mai has zeroed in on it. Yuta looks like he’s about to pass out, his hand frozen a half-inch away from Maki’s back like he doesn’t know if it’s better or worse to let go, but Maki seems entirely unfazed.

Instead of addressing Maki, though, Mai looks right at Yuta, a slender brow raised in an expression you aren’t quite sure how to interpret. On Maki, it would be teasing, but on Mai it could be a challenge or a threat or a judgment just as easily.

But she only says, “Thought you were gonna take that to your grave, Okkotsu. Been long enough.” She breezes past all of you without another word, and Yuta stares at the place where she stood only moments before, slack-jawed.

Maki shrugs. “Well, that’s that.” The sound of tuning instruments floats back from the stage and Maki starts moving, looking confused when Yuta doesn’t immediately follow. “What?”

“She—what?” Yuta gapes, and Nobara and Toge catch up to you, herding you backstage.

“I can never tell how mad you two are at each other,” you tell Maki.

“We’re bonded by mutual hatred of our own family. We have an understanding,” she shrugs. “She approves of Yuta. I don’t give a shit. If she didn’t, I still wouldn’t give a shit.”

Sometimes you’re very, very glad you have no relatives at this school.

Maki elbows Yuta lightly and he seems to relax, shrugging off the interaction with Mai.

“On another note!” Nobara chirps. “That was fucking awesome.”

And then you hear, of all things, a trumpet coming from the direction of the stage. It’s a very recognizable riff.

Black Flash is covering September.

“What the fuck?” Toge asks. He holds up a hand and darts back to the wing, peeking out on stage. When he returns, his brows have shot up, mouth open like a fish. “Muta has a trumpet. Muta’s playing a trumpet. Since when does he know trumpet? What the fuck?”

“Miwa. Guaranteed,” Nobara says. “Momo’s been trying to get him to learn for years, but he wouldn’t even be in that band if Miwa wasn’t there.” She grins. “I bet Momo was so mad when he finally did it only ‘cause Miwa asked.”

“They sound straight out of a damn recording,” you murmur, craning your neck as if that’ll help you hear better. “They’re fucking good, guys.” Part of you wants to slip out into the crowd just to see them perform. These guys really have their art down to a science, as little sense as that might make, and you can’t help appreciating it.

They segue into a new song with a wild sax solo that you know to be Momo’s, and Nobara grabs you by the hand and twirls you around backstage, some jazzy movement with no real choreography. We’re going to lose, you think idly, but you understand why. There’s something infectious in this music.

Even Maki and Yuta can’t stand still once they’ve put their instruments away, and eventually the five of you are jumping around like a bunch of idiots as Black Flash closes out their set with an explosive series of riffs and chords, and the crowd’s cheering floods the place, all the way to backstage.

You hear Panda’s voice, or more so the bass-heavy sound of him speaking into a microphone, and you only really catch voting.

“Sweet democracy,” Toge says. “I pledge allegiance—”

“How about don’t?” Maki drawls.

Toge nods. “My bad. I’m supposed to be loyal to the queen now, anyway.” Maki’s brows furrow, but she must decide it’s not worth questioning, because she turns away and starts talking to Nobara.

Has anyone actually told Toge the queen is dead?

This time around, ten minutes feels all too short, and suddenly you’re on the stage again, Black Flash at your left and The Cull on their other side. Panda is in front of you all, mic in hand, the results on his phone.

“We have literally never had a vote this close,” he says, and the crowd draws in a collective breath. “The difference between first and second place was two votes.”

“Shit,” Nobara breathes out beside you, so soft nobody else could possibly hear. Two votes. That’s fucking insane.

“But we do have a winner,” Panda says, “and the band moving on to the finals next week is…”

This time, there’s too much attention on your band for Maki to make a comment about Panda’s dramatic pause. In the quiet, somebody shouts, “Woo, girl drummer!” and it sounds an awful lot like Kirara. You smile sheepishly.

Maybe you made it. This was definitely your best performance yet, and the crowd seemed to love the new song—

“Black Flash!” Panda shouts, and your stomach twists a little even as you smile and whoop for the winners. The stage explodes in movement as your band and The Cull converge on the members of the reigning Battle of the Bands champions, congratulating them.

“Amazing set,” you tell Kasumi earnestly. Deep down, you knew you didn’t have much of a chance against them. Still, you’d hoped.

You think you catch Maki muttering, “Y’know, not bad,” to Mai, but you could be wrong.

After you slip backstage, Panda catches up to you. “Y’all were second,” he tells Nobara. “Just thought you should know. That was real close.”

Part of you is immensely gratified that you beat The Cull. That you came that close to kicking Black Flash out of their championship spot. You’re bummed, but honestly? It’s enough for you.

And now Shibuya Incident and Black Flash will compete in the finals, just like last year. Takuma’s got a chance to dethrone them.

After locking up the drum kit in the back storage room (which Shoko blessedly lets you use free of charge), you head out to the floor. Toge splits off to talk to someone from a comm class, Nobara beelines for Yuji and Megumi, and you figure Maki and Yuta are being antisocial in a corner somewhere. It doesn’t take long for Takuma to find you.

“Skipper!” You turn to find him grinning at you, and you can’t help but mirror the expression. “That was amazing. That song was amazing, you were amazing. I mean, are. You are amazing.” His hand drifts up to the back of his neck, and part of you wants to reach out an intercept it, tangle your fingers in his. But you hold yourself back.

“Thanks,” you beam.

“Man. You should’ve won,” Takuma says earnestly, squeezing your shoulder. You took off your bomber jacket before the show—drumming is already a lot of movement, but the stage lights make you sweat—so his fingers skim the place where your T-shirt sleeves end and your bare skin begins, sending a spike of electricity down your spine. “You kicked their asses in my book.”

There’s that warmth again, flowering in your chest cavity. Even when his hand falls from your arm, the impression of his touch stays there.

“They were good,” you say, conceding defeat. He shrugs, like whatever you say, and you’re about to finally ask him if you can talk in private when Yuji materializes out of nowhere, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

“Dude!” he crows, slinging an arm around your shoulder so aggressively that you nearly stumble, laughing. This kid does not know his own strength. “That was so good. So good. You should’ve won. That was insane. The new song?”

“That’s what I said,” Takuma says, raising a brow at you, and you’re flushing again.

“Ino, we’re getting Taco Bell,” Yuji says. You plaster on a smile when he turns to look at you, like you haven’t been going out of your mind the entire week needing to be alone with Takuma. “You want anything?”

Yuji’s not trying to interrupt anything. Poor guy just wants Taco Bell. You stifle a sigh. “Nah, I’m good.” You catch Maki’s eye from the other side of the room, and she waves you over. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Hey, you should come over later,” Takuma says before you can turn away. “Gotta catch me up on your midterms. I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

Yes. There it is. Exactly what you need.

“That sounds great,” you say honestly. “Call me when you guys get back?”

He gives you a two-fingered salute with a grin that makes your heart stutter a little. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

Nobara mourns the loss the whole way home, but by the time Maki pulls into the driveway she seems to have gotten all her feelings out and is back to her determined we’ll-get-it-next-year self. The guys drove separately with all the guitars piled in the backseat, and they beat you home.

You’ve just sat down on the couch and kicked off your shoes when your phone buzzes, a familiar but unexpected name floating across the screen.

INCOMING CALL: TSUMIKI FUSHIGURO

You slide to accept the call, waving at the boys to quiet down. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Tsumiki says, in that tone of voice that means she’s running on multitasking business mode. A low, static humming in the background tells you she’s calling from the car. “So, there was some kind of accident on 34th a couple blocks down from the science complex. I know you’re on features, but Yuki’s out of town and most of the freelancers are younger and haven’t done breaking yet. Are you busy? I can try the sophomores if you can’t, or I can go, but I’m just coming from work and I might take too long—”

You’re already grabbing your bag and your board, mouthing newspaper to Yuta and Toge, who are giving you curious looks as they dig through the movie collection under the TV. The intersection’s not far from your place at all, or from The Fix, for that matter. Yuki’s the news editor, and if she’s out, it makes more sense for someone who’s already done breaking to go. Time is of the essence with these sorts of briefs. “On it, don’t worry,” you say, pushing out the front door and waving to Maki and Nobara on the way. “Photog?”

“Yeah, I’m calling around after this. I’ll get someone there. God, thank you, you’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem. Call you when I’m done.” You hang up and shove your phone into your back pocket as you careen down the street, headed toward the spot Tsumiki mentioned. Now that midterms are over and you’re free of your academic obligations, you can actually take the time to savor the cool night air and crunch of freshly fallen leaves under your wheels. Hopefully the crash isn’t too bad—Tsumiki didn’t seem incredibly worried, but it’s likely she was operating on very little information.

It doesn’t take long for you to hear the commotion, and you round the corner to see a few cop cars blocking off the crash site on the side of the road.

The second you’re close enough to see past the officers and their cars, your heart plummets.

It’s a red Hyundai.

Smoke billows out from beneath the hood, but the other car’s got it worse, the passenger side smashed in. The way it’s positioned—it shouldn’t have even been possible, unless the other car was genuinely driving in the wrong lane.

“No,” you breathe, kicking your board up and running, and then you’re flashing your press card at a campus policeman—he tries to get you to stop anyway, but there’s no way he’s catching you now—and you’re sprinting to the wrecked car, heart shouting in your chest. You see Yuji first, trying to brush off a concerned-looking Megumi, and then a pair of cops approaching them, and another cop arresting someone—shit, you know him, what’s his name? Naoya, that’s Maki’s dickwad cousin—probably the driver of the other vehicle, but where’s Takuma, where—

When you skid around the far side of the car, Kirara giving you a surprised look, you see him leaning up against the tree. He’s sitting on the grass, one leg pulled up to his chest and the other stretched out in front of him, his forehead resting on his knee. His shoulders are shaking, his hat’s on the ground, Kirara is beside him talking lowly and glaring at anyone who tries to get near him—

Until she sees you.

“Thank god,” she breathes. She doesn’t ask why you’re here. She just guides you to sit down in front of Takuma. “Can you—”

“Is he hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so, he’s just—”

“Got it.”

She backs off to give you space, and then you’re on the ground, knees in the grass in front of Takuma. Panic attack, PTSD episode, whatever it is, you’ve dealt with these before. You remember the roof, his quiet voice, explaining what happened to his dad, how he was in the car, how he hates driving because of it. You’d bet anything Takuma thinks he’s back there.

“Kuma,” the nickname slips out before you even realize it. He jerks and looks up at you, shock and confusion written all over his face. He’s full-on trembling, and your heart shatters in your chest. “Hey. Hey, I need you to breathe.” You hesitantly reach out and take his hands in yours, watching him carefully to see if he tries to pull away. He doesn’t. “You’re okay. Everyone’s okay. You’re safe. Can you take a breath for me?”

He’s not fully here, you can tell, his eyes glassed over and his breath catching in his throat. You scoot closer to him, put your hands on either side of his face, blocking out the sirens and the chatter and the crowd. “Takuma,” you say. “Look at me.”

His frantic, moving stare settles on you after a long moment, and he seems to realize abruptly that he is having a panic attack. You can see the moment it clicks in his mind, that if he was twelve years old in a car crash with his father, you couldn’t be here in front of him, and now it’s up to his body to get the message across.

“Breathe,” you say again, drawing in an exaggerated breath and blowing it out slowly. “C’mon, with me. You got this.”

Takuma gasps, trying to follow your instructions as you talk him through it, counting inhales and exhales and starting over every time his breath hitches. “Doing great,” you promise. The rest of the world—the cops, a very angry Megumi pacing back and forth, Kirara speaking rapidly on the phone—might as well not exist. It’s you and Takuma and your breaths in the air between you. Nothing else matters, not right now.

All of the struggles you’ve had this week, papers and feelings and not enough sleep, feel suddenly unbelievably small.

There are things that matter in a much louder way, and this is one of them.

“Christ,” Takuma breathes out eventually, burying his head in his hands. One of the cop cars erupts with the blare of sirens momentarily before stopping again, and the sound has his shoulders tense with worry all over again.

You don’t even think about it. You just pull Takuma into you, wrapping your arms around him, like you can put the both of you in a little bubble away from everything else. “Hey, hey—”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you furiously shake your head. “Just—the sirens—“

“No,” you say firmly. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Takuma.”

He shudders and you rub your hand up and down his spine. “Is the other driver…?”

“A stupid fucking drunk driving in the wrong lane?” Kirara practically spits as she rejoins you near the tree. “Yes.” The cop just took her statement and has moved on to Megumi and Yuji.

You’ve never seen Megumi this livid. He’s gesturing wildly at the other car, and you remember idly that Naoya’s his cousin too, that this is a little personal for him.

“Yeah, but is he…?” Takuma trails off.

“He’s fine,” you murmur, your heart clenching for this boy, who’s been through so much and just relived the worst day of his life and still wanted to know if the other driver was okay. Jesus. He’s too good. “Everyone’s okay.”

You pull back to hold him at arm’s length, scanning him up and down for injury, and he’s staring at you like you just fell from the sky. “Skip—I’m really glad you’re here but—why? What are you…?” His voice is a little hoarse. His gaze trails down to the press pass hanging from your neck, and he cracks a wry smile. “Y’know, when I told you write a story on me, this isn’t really what I had in mind.”

So much relief floods you at once that you think you might actually start crying. “Jesus,” you croak out, and the smile drops from his face.

“I’m okay,” he says quickly. “Just—got the wind knocked out of me, but it’s fine. Skipper—”

You lurch forward and wrap your arms around him before he can finish, needing to feel him breathing, his heart beating. You also hear his breath hitch as he winces, and you pull back in alarm. “Shit, I’m sorry, what—”

“It’s okay,” he says. “Just sore. I’m fine. Really.” He leans back against the tree. “Airbags.”

You slump back against the tree too, deflated as the limp airbags in the ruined car. “You guys okay?” you ask as the others, done with their statements, turn toward you.

“Yeah,” Kirara says, but Megumi shakes his head and points to Yuji, who’s nodding even while cradling his wrist to his chest.

“It’s fine,” Yuji insists, and Megumi looks at him, incredibly unimpressed. “Well, it’s not broken, I can move it.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay,” Megumi says flatly. And you look at him, his expression so familiar, and abruptly realize you’re supposed to be writing a brief.

“Shit,” you mutter, pulling out your phone. “I’m working for your sister right now. I gotta…” You point to the phone. Megumi winces but nods, and Tsumiki picks up on the first ring.

“Hey! Done already? You find Yoshino okay? He said he—”

“Uh, no,” you say sheepishly. “Actually, I—uh, okay, everyone’s fine, but Megumi’s here. If I—”

“Slow down!” Tsumiki blurts. “What? Shit. Frick. Where’s Gumi? Can you put him on the phone?”

You wordlessly hand your phone to Megumi, who’s looking more pained at the concept of talking to his sister about this than the accident itself.

A few cars pull up—a white one screeching to a stop that really should not have been going so fast in front of a bunch of police officers, and then a darker gray one that arrives smoothly after, neatly pulling up against the curb. Gojo practically launches himself out of the first car, looking around until his gaze locks on Megumi, who hangs up the phone with a quiet okay, thanks and then immediately groans upon seeing Gojo there. Nanami and Shoko get out of the second car much less dramatically and trail after Gojo to the cluster of you by the tree.

“Megumi!” Gojo calls as he jogs over. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Megumi grumbles, trying and failing to brush Gojo off. “Where’d you come from? Don’t you have work?”

“Geto and Utahime are closing down,” Gojo says with a shrug. “We heard and came as fast as we could. Figured I’d bring our resident doc. Or Nanami would, since she wouldn’t ride with me,” he says loudly so Shoko can hear. She just rolls her eyes.

Megumi tosses you your phone and says, “Forget the brief, you’re good.” You nod, pushing to your feet and offering a hand to Takuma.

“We,” Gojo says, placing one hand on Megumi’s head and the other on Yuji’s, “are going to the ER.” You expect Megumi to object, but it’s Yuji who tries to wave Gojo off. Except he tries to physically wave him off with his bad wrist and immediately grimaces. Megumi swats him on the shoulder and gives him a serious look that says we’re going, don’t argue. You figure Tsumiki will probably meet them there.

Shoko stops to talk to Kirara a short distance away, and Nanami keeps walking, making a beeline for Takuma—and by extension, you. It doesn’t escape your notice that the second he’s within range, some of the tension in Takuma’s body seems to vanish, seeping out of him and into the grass, like the tree’s roots are taking it on for him.

Nanami’s usually immaculate hair is a little disheveled, like he ran his fingers through it. Without his usual glasses on, he looks a lot less daunting, a lot more personable. The worry in his expression is well concealed but very much present.

“Ino,” he says. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Takuma says unconvincingly. “Fine. Just—yeah. Drunk driver, you know…” He scratches at the back of his neck, and this time you don’t check yourself. You reach up and grab his hand, slotting your fingers between his. He shoots you a grateful look before turning back to Nanami. “I’m okay. Really. Thanks for… um…”

“Of course,” Nanami says before Takuma can say anything more. You release his hand so he can step forward. You’ve never seen Nanami hug anyone before, but apparently there’s a first time for everything.

“You’re not going with Gojo?” he asks when he pulls back, hands planted on Takuma’s shoulders. It feels very paternal. You’re not sure you should be listening in.

“Nah, I’m okay.”

“I’d feel a lot better if you got checked over,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind. “Would you let Shoko look at you, at least?” You’re relieved when Takuma nods, letting Shoko pull him away.

Gojo leads Yuji and Megumi past you, back to his car, and Yuji stops to whisper, “Never fear, Skip, the drum set was not in the car.”

“Oh my god,” you say. “Yuji. I’m more worried about you than the drums.”

“Aw, Skip!” he says happily. “That’s nice.” You roll your eyes but can’t keep the fond smile off your face, and you know Megumi’s probably doing the same thing, though you can only see the back of his head as he follows Gojo. Yuji bounds off after them, still cradling his wrist to his chest but seeming very unconcerned about the whole ordeal.

Yet another screech of tires alerts you to a truck appearing from the other end of the street. Hakari doesn’t even bother to shut it off, jumping out and leaving the door hanging open.

“Kira!” he shouts, pushing past the remaining officers. “Kirara!”

“Over here!” Kirara calls, thanking Shoko and weaving around the slowly diminishing crowd. Someone’s already showed up to tow Naoya’s car, and another truck probably isn’t far behind. Kirara gets swept up in Hakari’s arms, her trying to reassure him she’s fine, and you find yourself left alone with Nanami. He studies you openly, keen eyes and a calm, very slight smile on his face.

“I don’t think we’ve met, officially,” you say sheepishly. “I’m Skipper.”

“Kento,” he says, holding out a hand. You shake it and feel abruptly like you’re talking to a business executive. As Shoko looks Takuma over on the other side of the big tree, Nanami—Kento—lowers his voice a bit and says, “Ino’s told me all about you.”

The heat rises unbidden to your cheeks, and you hope the evening dimness hides it. He talks about you? To Nanami? You aren’t really sure how to respond to that, but luckily, Kento spares you the trouble. “Look out for him tonight, will you?” You can tell from the tone that he’s testing the waters, trying to determine how much you know about his dad.

Hopefully the message gets across when your gaze drifts back to Takuma over Kento’s shoulder and you say, “I plan on it.”

“He’s alright,” Shoko announces, and Takuma appears at your side again. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.” Something loosens in your chest at the words, something that tied itself into knots the second you saw Yuji’s car and hasn’t let up since.

“Hey,” Hakari calls, he and Kirara approaching hand in hand. “You guys good?”

Takuma nods, and you shrug. “Wasn’t in the car.”

“We’re gonna head back to Kirara’s. You want a lift?”

Takuma glances at Kento, and you feel the truth of his words that day on the roof, about Nanami being the closest thing he has to a father.

“Go home, kid,” he says. “Sleep it off. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Takuma says, like a breath of relief. He looks exhausted. But he’s here in one piece, and that’s what matters. Your fingers brush his as you walk back to Hakari’s truck. It’s a quiet ride, a short one, your board on your lap and your press pass still dangling from your neck.

“Oh, Skipper,” Hakari says when he turns onto your street. “Your house over here? Or are you coming to theirs?”

You glance at Takuma, but before either of you can say anything, Kirara says, “She’s comin’ over.” She catches your gaze in the rearview mirror with a knowing look and you manage a weak smile. You can’t imagine letting Takuma out of your sight right now, honestly.

The dogs are there the second Kirara opens the door, and Takuma practically falls into them, burying his face in their fur as they nuzzle up against him. Shiro turns to you after saying hi to the others and noses at your palm until you scratch her behind the ears.

“Hi, sweetie,” you murmur. “Good girl.”

Kirara nudges you with her shoulder as she brushes by, glancing down at Takuma and then back at you. You nod. I got him. She offers you a small smile before she and Hakari disappear around the corner.

“C’mon,” you murmur, tapping Takuma on the shoulder. He nods, pushing to his feet and patting each dog on the head one more time. You follow him upstairs, feeling a little out of your depth. After all, he’s not the one who decided you were staying.

When you’re both standing in his room, you shift on your feet a little, wondering how to word it. “If you want some space—”

“No,” he blurts, unexpectedly loud, and then his cheeks go a little red, sheepish. “I mean—uh. I could… use the company. If you don’t mind. You don’t have to stay, obviously, just—”

“Kuma.” You laugh a little, watching him freeze, glance up at you mid-ramble. “I would love to stay.”

“Oh.” He grins. “Cool. Okay. Um.” He turns around and grabs a pair of sweats and a tee from his dresser, then holds them out to you. “If you want…? Or I can ask Kirara, I’m sure she’d let you borrow something, or obviously you live right down the street or—”

Something about the idea of wearing his clothes makes you go a little warm all over, and you accept them without hesitating, cutting off his rambling. “Thanks.”

“I’m gonna…” He jerks his thumb toward the door. You don’t know if he’s just giving you the space to change or going to shower or what, but you nod, waiting until the door clicks shut behind him to tug on the sweats and shirt. The shirt is huge on you, one shoulder sliding off, a fading logo of some music festival on the front. You sit on the edge of Takuma’s bed, tucking your knees under you, and then your phone rings. Tsumiki.

“Hey,” you say, pressing it to your ear. “They’re okay?”

“Yeah, Yuji sprained his wrist but nothing else. Pretty minor, all things considered,” she reports. “They’re on their way back to the house.”

“Good,” you breathe, the relief evident in your voice. “Thanks. Do you… are you sure about the brief?”

Tsumiki chuckles. “Hey, not your job to worry about the press tonight.”

“I can still try to… write it,” you say half-heartedly, dreading the thought of it. “I mean, I saw the scene and…”

“Don’t even worry about it. Genuinely,” she says. “You and I both know that’s a conflict of interest.” You huff a weak laugh. What an understatement. “More importantly, you sound exhausted and I’m sure that whole thing stressed you out. Listen, the photog I had on it wanted to break into writing anyway. No time like the present.”

You immediately feel even worse, because your photographer was probably looking for you at the scene and you just left him hanging.

“Stop,” Tsumiki says, like she can read your mind through the phone. “He handled it well. It’s fine, Skipper. Get some rest.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, but she’s already gone. You shoot a quick text to the group chat explaining what happened, that everyone’s fine, and that you probably won’t be home tonight. Takuma doesn’t want to be alone, and honestly, you don’t know if you could leave him if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the texts to start pouring in.

utah: let us know if any of you need anything!! maki: keep us posted and tell megumi to answer his dumb phone nobara: WHAT nobara: OH MY GOD???? nobara: well i’m glad everyone’s okay nobara: christ freak no. 1: alsjkfq qEQht

You frown at the keysmash, wondering if Toge dropped his phone or actually just doesn’t know how to communicate like a normal person.

you: ??? freak no. 1: sorry SOMEONE TOOK MY PHONE,,,, utah: because SOMEONE DOESN’T KNOW WHEN IT’S AN APPROPRIATE TIME TO SEND MEMES, TOGE maki: nvm he picked up maki: go to sleep, skipper, we can talk tomorrow

Toge texts you privately thirty seconds later. It’s the meme of Gru laying out his evil plan and then realizing it’s a horrible idea. The first frame says answer the phone, the second says get the breaking news like a baddie journalist, and the last frames say realize you know everyone at the scene of the crime. You laugh out loud. Toge knows you. He knows you needed this. He wouldn’t have sent it if he didn’t think it’d cheer you up.

A half-second later, another image comes in, but it’s just a picture of Nobara with her hands clasped together in front of her mouth, speechless and absolutely thrilled. The full image shows her swooning over a little puppy, but you long ago cropped it and started using it as a reaction image in your chats.

freak no. 1: me when ur okay :)

“Aw,” you murmur. Toge can be sweet sometimes. You start texting back, but then another message comes in and you backspace immediately.

freak no. 1: me when ur spending the night with your boyfie :) you: i was gonna say thanks but then you kept going freak no. 1: me when she texts back :) you: goodnIGHT TOGE freak no. 1: me when she goodnight texts :)

Takuma knocks softly on the door before cracking it open, waiting for you to give him the green light before coming in. He’s changed into his own pair of sweats, and his hair is ruffled and wild around his face. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You toss your phone on the bedside table and scoot over to make room. “You okay?”

He sits cross-legged on the bed, and you turn to face him. “Think so,” he says. “Just… felt like I was back there for a minute.” His eyes go distant just for a moment, and your heart twists in your chest. You scoot forward, knees bumping against his.

“Glad you’re okay,” you murmur, and it doesn’t feel like enough, but he gives you that soft, open look that makes you feel like you could say anything at all and he’d treasure it.

“Glad it was you and not some rando reporter.”

You grin, holding a fist out to Takuma like it’s a microphone. “How do you rate Skipper’s hug on a scale of one to ten?”

He leans forward, playing along. “Uh, you know, it was so long ago I might not have a really accurate rating. I would have to probably hug her again—”

You don’t let him finish, surging forward and wrapping your arms around him, tackling him down onto the bed in a fit of laughter. Caught off-guard, he has no defense, and after a startled moment his arms snake around your waist, and you lie there, looking at each other with barely-restrained grins.

“Well, that one was pretty good,” he murmurs. “Nine, I think.”

You gape at him. “Nine?”

Another smile dances across his lips, and you suddenly really want to kiss him.

“Guess you’ll just have to keep trying.” He shrugs innocently, and then tries and fails to stifle a yawn, which makes you yawn in turn. It’s late, night having draped itself over the city hours ago, and the effects of barely snatching hours of sleep all week are finally creeping up on you, weighing you down.

“Go to sleep,” you tell Takuma, grabbing a blanket from where it’s been wedged between the bed and the wall and shoving it toward him.

“You go to sleep.”

“Bossy.”

But he shakes the blanket out and lets it fall over both of you, trapping your warmth beneath it, and sleep feels very, very appealing.

You think about the paralyzing, all-consuming fear that took hold of you when you saw the car. The thought of anything happening to him—you actually can’t even fathom it. And you think about what that means, and that you’ve only known this boy for a month, but you feel like your heart beats on the same channel as his.

Geto’s words play themselves over and over in your head, Maki’s mixing themselves in until you have a chorus of phrases bouncing around like pinballs.

Your heart is not a finite thing.

You already know.

The question isn’t if he likes you, or if you like him. It’s whether you’re gonna let it play out or shut it down before it has a chance to.

If you’ve got something, love it while you have it.

Geto was right. You don’t know how long you’ll have this for, have him for. But you better make the most of it while you do.

But Takuma’s eyes are already closing, his arm slung over your waist, seeking your warmth, your comfort. He looks exhausted, shaken. These aren’t conversations for tonight. Tonight, you just hold him, and feel his breath against your neck, and revel in the fact that he’s okay.

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a/n: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, TEAM. i've fallen into another anime hyperfixation (blue lock) and it's killing me slowly. one part left of this fic !!

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