#not proof reading anything so idk if this makes sense at all

[pedrosgrogu]

Born Too Late - Chapter 6

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Warnings: MDNI!! soft/sad joel, angst, tension, drinking, idk what else, let me know if i missed something.

Summary: you break off the situationship and the feelings after it are overwhelming, for both you and Joel.  (2.4k+)

a/n: idk what this is, i woke up ready to write and here we are. i feel like i suck at writing from both POVs so idk how frequently ill do it but i feel like it was necessary here. always a major thank u to my bestie raven for proofing and feeding the delusions and ideas. i love all feedback so if you have any, pls share.

p.s. there will be another thanksgiving chapter tonight hehe. 

Master List - Chapter 5

*Joel’s POV*

You can feel the door slam and vibrate through your bones. The sound of the sink dripping reverberates through the entire house. You stand there in disbelief; in shock. You hadn’t fallen so hard for someone since Sarah's mom, and boy did she fuck that up. Did you come on too strong? Was it the fact that you have a child? A million thoughts run through your head, but none make any sense. 

By 11:30, you’re on your 3rd glass of whiskey. You aren't drunk, but you're in a sweet spot of euphoria to combat the evening's prior feelings. You’re watching reruns of Bonanza and begin to doze, until the phone rings. You jump up, “maybe it's her” you think out loud. Answering with a burly “Hello?”, not even checking caller ID. “Hey brother. Bad news, Im down at county again got in a little-” “Goddamnit Tommy.” You say, standing up, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I know, I'm sorry. But if someones not here to get me within the next 30, I'm here all weekend.” Tommy says, sounding desperate. You don't say anything for a minute, trying to figure out if you should be his savior yet again or let him learn a lesson. “I'm on the way” you grunt, hanging up the phone before he can respond. You throw on your t-shirt and jeans from earlier, and they still smell like her. The sigh that escapes your mouth is guttural. Why do you have such strong feelings about someone you barely fucking know? 

You grab your keys and pull the door behind you; locking only the bottom. You look towards her house and notice the lights are all off, except her bedroom. You see her reading in bed, her hair still up and her Texans sweatshirt bunched around her. The last time you looked in her window, something very different was happening. She was on the verge of losing herself to you. You feel your jeans twitch and get in your truck. It rumbles to life and you peel down the street, praying you make it to county before midnight. 

*Reader’s POV* 

You slam the door behind you, and tears are building in your eyes. You pause, hoping to hear the door open and for Joel to come running after you, but he doesn't. You kick your shoes off at the door and head straight to your room, not turning any lights on. You sit in silence for a few minutes, unsure of what emotions are about to pop out next. You shoot Penny a text, not even thinking about the time in Ireland. 

You: Hey Pen, can you talk? 

You throw yourself on your bed, clutching your phone and holding back tears.

*ding* 

You pick up your phone, not sure who you want to text you more, Joel or Penny. 

Penny: Respectfully, do you know what time it is here?! 

You: I'm sorry Pen, I didn’t even realize. We can catch up tomorrow, just call me when you’re free. I’ll be home all day.  As soon as you hit send, the phone rings. 

“Hey Pen” you say, trying not to sound as upset as you are. 

“Yellow, what's wrong?” She says, yawning. 

“Nothing Pen, I just missed you!” You say, trying to sound cheery. 

“Girl, it's like 10:30 at your house, I know you weren't just up thinking of me.” 

So you spill. You tell her about how he spoke to you at the conference, and how he cooked you dinner. How he fucked you into oblivion again. By the end of your spiel, you’re in tears again. 

“Okay so from what I can gather, you obviously like him. Right? Sooooo why did we cut this off? I don't understand the whole “Ethical Misconduct” if you’re both consenting adults?”

You sigh, sniffling. “It's complicated. I truly don’t think anything would happen, but since his daughter is in my class, I don't want it to look like I’d be favoring her. I just feel stuck. I feel stuck because hello- he's hot but hello- I also don't know anything about him except his name, and how he fucks. I just-” Penny cuts you off

 “I think the best thing for you to do if you aren't going to pursue this, is to leave it alone. Don’t talk to him unless it involves his daughter. Don’t even look in his direction. I hate to see you so torn up over this, but if nothing can come of it, it's time to let it die.” 

You mute the phone, letting out a sigh, and a whimper. You know Pennys right, and she only wants whats best for you. It's so fucking annoying being so far away from your best friend. You’d give anything to hug her right now.

“Hello?” she says. You unmute. 

“Sorry Pen, I'm here.” You look at the clock. 11:18. 

“Penny, I appreciate this, and you. I love you so so much, and I'm sorry for texting so early.” You say, giggling. “But I'm tired, and I want today to be over.” 

“I'm always a phone call away Yellow. Always.” 

“Love you Pen.” you say, hanging up. 

You stand up and walk over to your bookshelf. Running your fingers along the spines, you look out the window, and all Joel's lights are off. You find your favorite, pulling it out and rubbing your fingers over the etched title. “The Picture of Dorian Gray”. You throw your blankets back and crawl into bed, turning on your bedside lamp. The room looks warm, but you’re freezing. Your tears begin flowing again and this time, they don't stop. You miss your friends and your family. You miss having someone to come home to, regardless of who it is. 

It’s been a few weeks since you last talked to Joel and you feel the same as you did then. You’re craving his touch, and desperate for him to give you any ounce of attention. But he never does. If you’re ever outside when he is, he never looks your way. He doesn't smile, or wave. He keeps his head low and pretends you aren't there. 

Sarah has come over a few times after learning you were neighbors, to get help with homework and you don't mind it. Making small talk with her about her other classes, her interests, and her family. Today, she came over and brought chocolate chip muffins. “I made these with my dad and Uncle Tommy! If they’re bad, it's because Uncle Tommy put way more chocolate chips than the recipe called for.” She says, laughing. “I'm sure they’re great Sarah,” you say, grabbing 2 plates from the cabinet. “How is Uncle Tommy?” you ask, genuinely. You like Tommy. Based on the few times you’ve met him, he seems like a nice guy. Handsome like his brother, but not quite your type. “He’s good! He and Dad just started working on some big project so they’re gone late sometimes…” She trails off. “Sarah, you are always welcome to come hang out if it gets late and no one is home!” You say, trying not to sound too worried. She smiles at you. You bite into your muffin. “Sarah, these are DELICIOUS!” you say excitedly. “Thanks,” she says with a smile. “So how is your dad? I haven't seen him in a while, but the big new project would explain that.” Sarah sits her muffin down. “He’s okay. He went on a date last weekend, but the woman was kinda weird. She came early when my mom was picking me up and started a fight with her while I was standing there.” “A date?” you say to yourself, trying to keep your emotions together. “I'm sorry that happened, Sarah,” you say, looking at her intently, trying to gauge her feelings. “It’s whatever. They’re going out again tonight so I don't think it bothered him too much.” She says, taking another bite of her muffin. “Uncle Tommy told me we could go roller skating so I should get home to get ready. Ill see you at school next week!” she says, putting her shoes on. “Bye Sarah! Have so much fun, and I cant wait to hear all about it on Monday!” you say, as she closes the door. 

A date. A fucking date. 3 weeks ago he was practically begging you to cum for him and then stay the night, and now he's going on dates? What a fucking asshole.  

*Joel’s POV*

It's been 3 weeks since you last spoke to her. Sarah realized you were neighbors so she's been spending lots of time with you, it's how you get your fix. Tommy noticed your shitty moods and finally cracked what's wrong. 

“I knew you'd been seein’ someone! You ain't been that giddy since you met Sarah's mom.” Tommy pauses and begins again “Shes nice, the neighbor girl. What’d you do to fuck it up?” 

You grab his collar, picking him up. “Do not ever compare her to Sarah's fucking egg donor. EVER,” you grunt, throwing him down. “And I didn’t do shit. We just weren't right for each other,” you say, walking away. “Let me introduce you to Maria’s friend, Celeste. She's kinda crazy but she's a looker!” Tommy says, laughing again. You groan. “Tommy, I don't need you playing matchmaker” you grunt, slinging his work belt at him, “now get your shit and let's go, we’re gonna be late.”

So much for Tommy not playing matchmaker. Its Sarah's weekend at her mom's and Tommy just informed you that Celeste is on the way. As long as Sarah’s mom is gone by the time she gets here, you think. You put on a pair of jeans, brown boots, and a T-shirt. “Sarah, your mom is gonna be here in 5 minutes, are you ready?” you yell down the hallway. “Yes dad, coming!” she says back. You grab your favorite flannel off the back of the couch. 

“Alright honey, I’ll see you Tuesday after school. I have a big day on Monday so you’re gonna stay with your mom for an extra night.” You say, hugging Sarah in the driveway. “I love you”. “I love you too dad!” she replies, opening the door. Before she can get in, a silver Lexus peels up the street and right into your driveway. Celeste. 

After an intense and fucking weird argument between your date and Sarah's mom, you both get into your truck. The silence is deafening. This woman is not your style at all, what the fuck Tommy? 

The date goes well, so well that Celeste asks to see you a second time. You agree, unsure why. She's not you, Yellow. But maybe it's what you need. A change of pace. 

While getting ready for your date, you realize you’re out of shampoo. Usually, you’d say fuck it, body wash can double. But you want to see her, you need to see her. So you throw on your sweats and head next door. 

You knock lightly, hoping not to disturb her. She opens the door and your nose is suffocated with her scent. Lavender and eucalyptus. Her hair is lying natural, wavy, and flowy. You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. She looks gorgeous. 

“Joel? Hello??” she says, obviously annoyed. 

You snap back to reality. “Hey. I have a meeting tonight and realized I'm out of shampoo. Do you have any?” you now realize how fucking stupid that sounds. “Are you joking?” she says laughing. You smile. “No, I wish I-” She stops you, and her smile slowly turns into a frown. “You have some fucking nerve coming over here and asking me for shampoo, like we’re friends. You haven’t spoken to me in WEEKS. And then to lie about why you need it?” You look at her, dumbfounded. Like a deer in fucking headlights. “Joel, after your date, don't forget to go fuck yourself.” and she slams the door. Her words were sharp like a knife, cutting deep. You feel tears begin to well in your eyes and hear silent sobs through the door. You walk away before she sees you, also crying. 

You call Celeste and tell her to just come to your house, you don't feel like going out. Around 7:30, you hear a car door shut. She knocks, gently. You open the door and there Celeste stands. She's wearing a long-sleeved black dress, with black heels. Her hair is curled and bounces with every step. Again, she's beautiful, but she isn't you, Yellow. 

*Readers POV*

“Joel, after your date, don't forget to go fuck yourself.” you say, slamming the door in his face. You fall to the floor behind the door, letting your sobs escape. Not caring if he hears or not. What a fucking time for this to happen. Thanksgiving is in 2 weeks and Penny is stuck in Ireland doing research, your parents are visiting their friends in Spain for the holiday, and your siblings have their own families. You have never felt so alone in your life. 

You spent the next few hours moping around the house, waiting for Penny's call. You watched Joel's date pull into the driveway. Her and her fucking Lexus and her bouncy hair and her fucking heels. You head to the fridge to find whatever intoxicating liquid you see first, but then you have a better idea. If he can have fun, you should too. You take a quick everything shower, spritz your favorite all over, and throw on a mini dress with some black heels. You call a taxi and grab your clutch. 

The taxi pulls up a few minutes later. “The closest bar, please. One with music,” you say, and the taxi pulls off.

[chameleonwritess]

I’ve tooootally not been freaking out about the new Wataru card all morning (lying), but I think I’ve finally decided how I hope it’s all going to play out.

For context, the pieces we have so far are:

- Wataru’s new profile mentions training with technology provided by Eichi

- Wataru’s new unbloomed features the Ep:Link mask which is supposed to be in Eichi’s possession given it’s the symbol of Wataru’s devotion to Eichi

- Wataru’s 4Piece interview got cut off and he didn’t enter the screen until halfway through the time

- The line up for the event features half the Diner Live cast (Wataru, Izumi, Keito, Nazuna)

Here’s what I’ve come up with from this:

It would make no sense to have a Wataei divorce. Especially given they’re not actually together in the understood sense of the word (they are in love with each other and have expressed sentiments of devotion, but in universe they cannot date. They’re idols, they’re both ‘boys’ (dubious with Wataru) and Eichi is expected to marry advantageously aka Tori’s sister)

What would make sense and would also be in line with how enstars stories generally go, and with how Eichi and Wataru both love to act, is that the two of them are rigging this whole thing and are purposefully doing something ridiculous, or actually quite deep and meaningful, just because it’s funny to them/neither of them can do something genuine in a normal way.

First evidence: the mask

I really desperately hope that the writers wouldn’t just undo all of Wataru’s character development the first story we receive around him in the new era. He hasn’t worn his mask for an ENTIRE YEAR, and we’ve seen through events like Puffy Bunny that he’s even opening up to juniors he wasn’t that familiar with. He’s learning to overcome his fear of rejection which is so intrinsically linked to his mask. Why would they plunge him back into hiding behind masks both literally and metaphorically after making it such a visibly identifying part of his development? The mask is probably there for a plot relevant reason, and if it isn’t just a copy and is in fact the one Eichi has, we will hopefully get some line as to WHY Wataru has it (and hopefully it’s as hilarious as “babe can I take your wedding ring back? Yeah I know I offered it to you as a metaphor for offering myself but I need it for the bit. Oh it’ll be so funny, I promise. Amazing, I knew you’d understand!✨”). If it is a copy,,,, hm. Idk. We will hopefully still get SOMETHING about the fact it is the exact same mask that we haven’t seen SINCE BASIC!!!!! They could’ve given him any design but they chose to use the same one. There’s got to be a reason.

Second evidence: Wataru’s audition. It’s just STRANGE. It’s really silly and very funny but,,, Wataru prides himself on his performing. He’s an actor. He wouldn’t show up late and allow himself to run out of time unless there was a reason or it was on purpose. This is where I’m starting to suspect that strings are being deliberately pulled and Wataru (and probs Eichi by extension) are up to something here. It just doesn’t make sense otherwise

Third evidence: the diner live throwback. Could the character selection be a coincidence? Absolutely. I assumed as much UNTIL I realised that there’s a giant gift box in Wataru’s audition and it’s the central focus piece given Wataru doesn’t show up until half way through. You can’t not notice it, and it leaves you expecting Wataru to emerge from it. Where else is Wataru involved with a giant gift box?? Unbloomed diner live when he puts Keito and Izumi in one. Oh, look who’s also involved in this!! The call back to traumerei and diner live feels deliberate now, and I want to know WHY!!! Especially given that story is so integral to establishing that Wataru has grown to like Eichi and to want to share a stage with him not as part of any roles but as HIMSELF. It’s also intrinsically linked to his masks, because he didn’t want to be on the stage under any mask. He wanted to perform with Eichi just as Wataru Hibiki.

Where am I going with all of this? That’s a really good question. I’m essentially just easing my own mind because it truly would not make sense, given the pieces laid out for us, if wataei are entering a divorce arc. This and Wataru’s profile are the only new era content we have for him. The profile highlights Eichi, showing us that they are STILL a pair- they are still interlinked in a way inseparable to the narrative and to their development. I’m trusting that just like Atlantis was thought to be Bad News and turned out to be interesting (Wataru’s perspective hmmmm I wanna analyse this now) and also still wataei, this will also turn out to be good and not undo Wataru’s characterisation and development. And if it does just undo all the progress that’s been made without giving us reason and plot consistent explanations for why wataei might be over? Well it would just have to be bad writing :/ (trying to point out that i can accept writing is good even if I don’t like the direction personally. If im given good writing and it still turns out to be a direction I didn’t want it to take, I’ll reluctantly accept it. If it just undoes established development and characteristics…. Ignored)

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, slow burn!

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii part iii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

next part

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

Kiss Me ♡ Sam Winchester

Pairing: Sam winchester x reader

Warnings: no use of y/n, I'm very dyslexic so idk witch which is witch, not proof read, I wrote this in an hour? Help, kiss, idk what else to put, this may not make sense but I just needed to write something and all my wips bored me so ✨️tada✨️

Summary: a witch cursed Sam to only awake with a true loves kiss, so naturally Dean calls you, the only problem is you haven't seen the Winchesters in 5 years.

You swore that you would never see the Winchesters again.

That was the only thing that you promised yourself. The one rule you could never break.

As a hunter you don't get a lot of garentees in life, you get close to zero, but this was your one none negotiable rule and everyone knew that.

Which is why you were cursing yourself as you drove down the highway, going at a very illegal speed trying to get to the winchesters as fast as possible.

Or more accurately to one spefic Winchester in particular.

Sam Winchester.

Dean had called you not even an hour ago, you hadn't picked up the fist 5 times, but on the 6th ring you figured it must be important.

He wasn't making alot of sense, but one thing was clear, Sam was in trouble and he needed you.

The winchesters being in trouble wasn't anything new, in fact it was the norm, but this seemed diffrent, it had to be diffrent otherwise you wouldn't have been called. Dean never called you even when you worked together, it was always sam. You and Dean didn't realy get along, it's not that you hated eachother, but you were both weary of eachother. And both of your concerns arose form the same factor, Sam. It was a safe assumption to say that you both cared for Sam, but unfortunately that ment that you often clashed.

But that's all in the past. Because you hadn't spoken to them in years. You hadn't seen Dean or Sam in 5 years. Yet here you were knocking on the door to the address of a motel that Dean frantically gave you over the phone.

"Hi-" you awkwardly began to sat as Dean opened the door, but you were quickly cut off.

"This is going to sound insane but right now I don’t have time to explain." Dean began, as he basically dragged you inside to where Sam lay unconscious on one of the cheap motel beds.

"Can you just kiss him?" Dean bluntly asked looking you in the eyes.

You were completely taken back by the forwardness of his request.

"What?" You muttered, glancing quickly to Sam, laying almost lifeless on the bed. He looked bad. You wouldn't have known he was alive if his chest didn't fall up and down ever so slightly.

As if reading your mind dean began to speak again. "And quickly as he might actually die soon."

"Sorry I'm a bit confused, why-" you began but were quickly cut off again.

"A witch, obsessed with fairy tales, cursed him like sleeping beauty or some princess shit and I thought killing the bitch would end the curse I was wrong so you need to kiss him."

Your head wad spinning. If it was sleeping beauty then that ment that...

That couldn't be true, could it?

No that made no sense you hadn't seen the younger of the brothers in 5 years. He was probably so diffrent. He could have lost his boyish smile. Or his perfect hair. Or his humour. Or-

"That doesn't explain why I specifically-" you began, but just as before you were cut off by Dean.

"Cut the bullshit, and just kiss him. I can waste time explaining but sammy is dieing, please. I just know that this will work, it has to, you look at him like I look-" he stopped himself, sighing almost lost in thought. "It doesn't matter just kiss him goddammit!" He practically shouted.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "just hurry up, I'll be outside."

With that he turned his back and slayed the motel door behind him as he left.

He left you alone with Sam.

Sam.

He looked terrible. He looked dead. It broke your heart. You could have stopped this. If you had just been there. If you'd had stayed....

No. You couldn't have.

You and Sam said things to eachother that you should have never said, and it ended up with you waking up in his bed. And you couldn't do that. Neither of you could. So you had to leave. And that's exactly what you did.

And that's when your rule stared. You told Bobby to never put you on a hunt with them or you wouldn't show.

Your rule spread like wild fire and soon it was a common known fact that you didn't hunt with the winchesters. No one knew why, but no one questioned it, especially given the winchesters track record.

Yet here you are, 5 years down the line, breaking your one rule.

You walked over to the edge of the bed to where Sam lay.

"I'm so sorry." You whispered. You didn't know exactly what you apologising for. Kissing Sam or for everything before this moment.

Closing your eyes you tentatively leaned forward and gently pressed your lips to his for a brief second before pulling away.

He didn't move.

No, no, no no. This couldn't be happening.

You reached to grab his hand, waeving your fingers between his.

"Come on Sam, please wake up." You pleaded as tears began to fill your eyes. How could you be so stupid? You left hom for 5 years, he could have been dead for that whole time and you would have had no idea.

"Please..." you sobbed as you rested your head on his chest.

You felt numb. It felt like you had just been stabbed in the chest and someone kept twisting the knife.

Gently a hand started stroking your hair.

Your head jolted up.

There he was, eyes open, a small smile on his lips.

"Hi love," he bearly whispered, half confused half over joyed.

"Sam!" You cried and you flung your arms round his neck, "you scared me you son of a bitch."

"What are you...?" He began but trailed off.

"Dean called." You answered, quickly remembering the whole situation, pulling shyly away from Sam.

"You came?" He sounded shocked.

"You needed my help."

"I thought-"

"Yeah you made me break my one rule Sam so...?"

A silence fell over the pair of you. You couldn't look him in the eyes. God you felt awkward.

"It was a pretty crap rule." He mumbled, looking directly at you, a half smile playing on his lips.

"I had good reason for it I mean-" you began.

"You ran away beacsue you were scared." He said matter of fact way, his eyes showing his hurt.

"I hunt monsters for a living I doubt that I was scared of some feelings, they're hardly spooky." You laughed. It was painfully obviously forced.

"So why did you leave then?"

You couldn't answer his question. He was right. You were scared. Scared of what you felt for him. And back then it felt like a valid reason. But right now, you felt stupid.

"You know what the curse was don't you?" He asked.

"Sam I-"

"It was the cliche of a true loves kiss. The witch said it didn't exist so I was destined to die."

You stayed silent, you couldn't look at him. You knew what it ment. You both did.

"Yet here I am, here you are." He said as though he was proving evidence in court. You were evidence of true love. After 5 years of not seeing eachother, you both still were irrevocably in love with one another. It was true love.

"Here I am." You agreed, finally meeting his eyes. "So now what?" You asked tentatively.

You were both quiet then. His smile only grew as he leaned closer to you.

"I think it's time you got rid of your stupid rule." He whispered in your ear.

"Why should I do that?" You pulled away, a matching smile on your face.

His smile softened as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"So that way I can wake up with you beside me, instead of you just living inside my dreams. So I can hold on to you instead of just our memories. So you can kiss me all the time and not just beacsue I'm dieing."

"That does seem like a valid reason, you got anymore?"

"Because I know, even after 5 years, you still feel the same way I do"

"And what's that?"

"I love you."

You were only inches away from his face now. You could feel his breath on your skin. He leaned on closer pressing his lips to yours.

His lips felt so familiar it almost hurt. It felt right. This is where you needed to be, this is where you should have been for five whole years.

You let yourself sink into his embrace as his hands flattened against your spine, drawing you impossibly closer.

His breathing had become more strained; his muscles tensed as he deemed the kiss, your hands finding their way into his hair.

You didn't want to stop,you couldn't, and judging by Sam's reaction to your touch he couldn't either.

"Have you-?" Neither of you hear the door to the motel open as Dean basically ran in. "Oh jesus my eyes, sammy I'm glad you're okay but fucking hell!" He quickly truned on his heels, overdramtically covering his eyes. "Use protection!" He shouted just before he closed the door, muttering under his breath 'these darm kids' as though he were a middle aged man.

You and Sam just looked at eachother for a singular moment before bursting into laughter.

"I might ammend my rule slightly..." you said after a few deep breaths.

"How so?" He asked leaning in closer to you once more.

"I now swear that I'll see the winchesters everyday, or at least one spefic Winchester everyday."

[samsno1]

Hi, idk how often you do requests but could you do a mid season Sam fic. The reader is with the FBI with the unexplained cases and she meets the brothers. It would be funny if they tried to convince her that they are also with the FBI and she somehow catches them in their lie. They work together in the case and Sam and the reader end up falling for eachother. Thanks you so so much!!!!

Caught

Sam Winchester X F!Reader

this took me so long to write i'm so sorry. i don't reeeeally like the ending but i did the best i could. i hope this is what you expected bby <3

Summary: You were assigned a complex case and you end up meeting two very weird men who were, apparently, also FBI agents but...why are they named after famous rockstars?

Warnings: FLUFF, descriptions of murderer, murder scenes and violence (usual supernatural shenanigans), sam is an 'intimidating woman enjoyer™', use of Y/N, the writer (me) has no idea how fbi works because she isn't an USA resident, NOT PROOF READ, english is not my first language

W.C.: 8,8k

enjoy!

You had climbed the ladder in the world of criminology considerably fast considering your age. Getting into the FBI in your late 20s was probably one of your biggest achievements and, of course, men tended to make disgusting comments about how such a young woman got such a difficult job – including claiming you opened your legs to get this far. You didn’t mind, actually, it added to your ego to be above those guys – as if they even deserved to be in a job that required empathy towards the victims.

Still, even your superior was shocked at the case he found. A couple had been killed inside their room without any signs of forced entry. All doors and windows were locked and nothing inside the house had been stolen; the bodies seemed to be torn apart from the inside out since there were no knife or bullet wounds and he put you on the case. He thought you would have the abilities to deal with something like this – ‘you’re a prodigy’ he had said – and the guts. The crime scene was absolutely vile; there was blood everywhere and their faces had the skin peeled off to the point their cranial bones were visible. You had seen some stuff, but nothing like this.

The first thing that you did when you got to town was talking with the local police so that you’d learn more about the town’s history with murderers – especially the unexplainable ones. They told you something close to an urban legend: the house that the couple was renting was cursed according to the locals. Decades ago, three kids got killed by their parents in rage, who committed suicide afterwards. They never found the kids bodies and the case went cold after a few years, the police giving up on finding their remains. You found that absolutely unacceptable, giving up on children like that should be a crime, but it wasn’t up to you. Ever since the assassination, every person that rented or bought the house died in unexplainable ways and the police had started to practically ignore or do the bare minimum on the case.

“We’ve been having problems with that house for years” Said the sheriff, a man with a grown out beard, deep eyebags and average height. Not what you would expect for a sheriff given his dismissiveness towards you and the mess his office was. “The previous sheriff also received complaints from townsfolk regarding the place but we could never find out anything. There were no clues, no suspects, just…nothing” He finished, his arms waving around tiredly.

“This is probably why they put the FBI on the case” You said to yourself, guaranteeing the man wouldn’t hear you. You took notes on your notebook, your legs crossed as you sat in front of the sheriff, his table between both of you. You could sense his eyes on you and feel his unasked question floating around in the air. “Anything else, Sheriff?” You asked, looking up from your notes.

He seemed to wake up from his thoughts, shaking his head lightly at you. “No it’s just…Why do you need three FBI agents to work on this?” He asked, on edge, a worry line prominent in his aged face as he squinted at you. Three? You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned back on the chair, closing your notebook.

“I’m not aware of the other two working alongside me” You say. You thought about what your boss had told you and didn’t remember him saying anything about partners, especially two. You usually worked alone most of the time, functioning better on your own. Then again, this was a difficult case, maybe they thought it was better than one federal agent working on this.

“They came by earlier today, asking about the same house and the murderers. They were tall, one of them was…very tall and had long hair. The other one was less serious and, honestly, unprofessional. I think they said they were agent Page and Plant” The sheriff filled you in and now this seemed like a joke. You raised an eyebrow. You had a peculiar taste in music considering it was the 2000s and your father barely listened to anything further than the 90s, resulting in you growing up to know most of the rock bands that were at their highest from the 60s to the 90s. That included Led Zeppelin. And it would be too big of a coincidence for both guys to work together with last names such as those.

“I’ll talk to them about the case, thank you very much Sheriff” You say, raising yourself from the chair and extending a hand to politely shake his. You walked out of his office with a question in your mind and thought about looking up Page and Plant on the database to see if anything showed up when you got to your room tonight. For now, you had to take a look at the crime scene while it was still daylight.

–

Your car’s engine died down as you turned the key. You opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, adjusting your suit over the white button down you wore underneath. You shoved your car key in your pocket and, when you looked up, you saw another car that easily stood out from the others around the street – a black Chevrolet Impala which you couldn’t guess the specific year just by looking. It was a very beautiful car and you secretly praised in your mind whoever owned it – it seemed well taken care of.

You walked to the crime scene, taking your badge in hand to show it to the police officer that took care of the place when you saw two men, also in suits, talking with one of the officers – two tall men, one had longer hair. The officer approached you as you got closer and you simply showed your badge to him before he nodded and lifted up the ‘crime scene’ tape for you to go underneath. You ducked down and mumbled a thank you as you made a beeline towards the two guys.

You wondered what you were going to say and how you were going to question them about their identity without seeming like you’re assuming anything. As you walked closer, they were finishing their conversation and were turning to leave making you almost bump right into them. They stumbled back and you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Who are you?” The shorter one asked you and you took the badge out of your pocket again with a sigh, making sure he reads your name and sees the picture of you that clearly stated you were a federal. He hummed and looked towards his partner, a silent conversation going on between them. You interrupt.

“And you?” You ask and they get their own badges out. You extend a hand to the taller one, silently asking you if you could take a look at it. He gave it to you willingly, which was one less red flag to take into consideration. You looked through everything and it all seemed alright…until you looked at the name on the bottom. Jimmy Page. Is this serious? You look up at them with a judging look and you see the tallest swallow harshly. “Your parents were big Led Zeppelin fans I assume” You say.

“Yeah, yeah they– ha– they were” Jimmy says in a way that’s not believable at all, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The shorter one closes his eyes and shakes his head discreetly in disappointment – which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You give Page his badge back and turn to – apparently – Plant.

“I didn’t know that I would have partners in this case, but maybe it’s for the better. What did you find out about the case? Just so we are on the same page” You look between both of them. Plant nudges his partner in the ribs and, before mumbling somewhat of a curse to Plant after practically jumping in place, Page starts to explain to you about their side of the investigation. He seemed professional enough, with a notebook in his hands as he told you everything they could make up from what they knew so far, even sharing with you his assumptions. You were impressed as you started telling him about what you thought – a weird case, too many murders, few clues…Plant stayed quiet most of the time until about halfway through your conversation he said he was going back to his car and you took that as a hint to call it a day.

“Well, I think we are going to work well together, Agent L/N” Page says with a polite smile and you nod, smiling yourself. You took one of your cards where your professional number was written on along with your name and offered it to him. He gently took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Just in case you have anything else to share” You said and he nodded, a strand of his hair falling over his face, which he mindlessly put back with a brush of his hand. “It was great meeting you, Agent Page”

“You too” He said and, sensing the end of the encounter, you started to walk back to your car. You still couldn’t shake the thought of those two being too suspicious for your liking and you were determined to look them up and see if Agents Jimmy Page and Robert Plant actually existed. You walked fast, your heels knocking against the concrete and you didn’t notice Page’s eyes on you, lost in the movement of your hair as you walked away. What woke him up from his trance, though, was his partner honking and signaling for him to hurry up. He rolled his eyes and walked to his own car, stealing one last glance at you. You turned your head back right on cue, giving him a polite smile and a small wave. He awkwardly waved goodbye back and started to walk to the honking Impala.

You had assumed the unknown car belonged to them and you had written down the plate in your notebook discreetly – just in case. You were impressed by their ability – well, Page’s ability – to analyze crime scenes but you weren’t stupid. You couldn’t just erase the fact that you had no idea who those two were and you were determined to find out, one way or another.

–

Meanwhile, in the Impala, Sam got inside the car in the passenger’s side, almost hitting his head on the roof – like he did most days. Dean was impatiently waiting for him to get in until he saw something clasped in his brother’s hand, his eyes quietly scanning the white paper. In Sam’s distraction, Dean reached for it before he could react. “Hey!”

“You got her number? Wow Sam, never thought of you like that” Dean teased as he looked through your name written in cursive writing and your phone number right under it. Sam snatched the small card back from his brother and shoved it in his pocket, glaring at Dean.

“Shut up man, this is her professional number, she gave it to me so we could talk” He defended as he put his seatbelt on. He mindlessly brushed a hand through his hair again, getting it out of his face as he heard Dean chuckle to himself as Baby’s engine roared to life. Sam looked back to his brother and waited for more teasing to come – as it always did.

“Yeah, talk.” He said, the double meaning in his words floating around in the air but being ignored by Sam. Dean pressed his foot on the pedal so the car would start to move as he shifted into gear. “Besides, she’s an actual FBI agent, don’t you think she’s going to suspect that we aren’t?”

“Dean, I did go to law school, I can manage my way out of this” Sam said with a mischievous smile. He really thought he could, he knew he was smart and he was a damn good liar – he lied in college for a very long time about who he was and what his family did. Not something to be proud of but it came in handy, especially when both him and his brother were in trouble. He had practically lied his whole life about who he truly was, not entirely giving away specific details – especially those who involved his family. Sometimes he regretted it – like he did with Jess – but it was always safer not to know, for both parties. Or so he thought.

“Don’t think she’s stupid–”

“I don’t think she’s stupid–”

“Let me finish” Dean scolded, raising a hand to silence his brother, his eyes still on the road. It was often funny to pay attention to their brotherly behavior and how anyone could know who was the oldest just by these simple interactions. Dean raised his hand and Sam silenced, listening, like how it was when they were kids. “Don’t think she’s naive, she is in the FBI, working alone on a case. I don’t know much about federals but I’m sure that’s not for everyone”

Sam stayed quiet. He knew Dean was right but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Still, he really didn’t think you were stupid, it was impossible to. The way you talked about the case in detail, relating your point of view and what you could gather in a few hours was more than enough evidence to show him you deserved this job more than anyone. He wasn’t used to seeing women in this field, but everytime he did he was convinced that men were definitely unfairly placed higher. Yet, he still didn’t want to get arrested again so he needed to convince you that he and Dean were legitimately federals.

The conversation drifted away in another direction as Sam stared out the window and replied to the small talk Dean made with him every now and then – when he didn’t crank up the volume once Metallica came into the radio playing Creeping Death while they were talking. With a chorus of ‘Die, die!’ being sung by Dean while he beat his hands on the steering wheel to the drum rhythm, Sam’s mind drifted away and he fell asleep with a head against the window, the tiredness of sleepless nights catching up to him.

–

These fuckers. You thought to yourself as you stared mouth agape to the pictures of who you learned were actually Sam and Dean Winchester – not Jimmy Page and Robert Plant. Two brothers, presumed dead a couple years ago.

Your coffee sat cold over the wooden table of the hotel you were staying the night at. You had already changed into your pajamas and taken a hot shower when you decided to take a look at the case again. Two hours later you remembered the two men you encountered and, when you looked a bit deeper in the police files, the results were horrifying. It actually wasn’t that hard to find out about them, a quick look through the FBI database and you found their exact faces – even if Pag- Sam’s hair was relatively shorter then now. You were beyond pissed, especially at yourself, how could you not have known this? How could you let yourself get played like this? Just because the tall guy was a bit of a nerd and kind of cute? Ugh!

You started pacing around your room, not knowing what to do. Confronting them could kill you, they were murderers after all, according to the database, they had killed civilians and federal agents equally as much. You were strong, both physically and mentally, but there was no way you were escaping two guys that were over six feet tall and weighed about two hundred pounds each. You had to play smart, you had to catch them in a weak moment and then. Bingo. You stopped in your tracks and – like a lightbulb lightened up above your head – you had the perfect plan. You had to wait until the next day for you to execute it but it was going to be worth it. You sent their mugshots to your phone through your e-mail and any other evidence that you could use against them.

You still felt slightly weirded out about them. They didn’t seem dangerous, they didn’t freak out the moment they saw you and they were confidently adding to the investigation with actual useful analysis. You were looking deeper through their files and found out they lost their mother in a fire at a very young age – the youngest wasn’t even one year old yet – and their father had died a couple years ago, in ‘06. They had a pretty sketchy life, living off stolen credit cards and fake identities but something interesting you found out was that Sam Winchester actually went to college, he went to Stanford and your eyes widened at that. You wondered what made him quit, maybe his father dying and his brother needing him, maybe he got kicked out, still, going to college after having a childhood like that was more than impressive.

You kept reading about them until the late hours of the night and you only noticed you fell asleep over the papers you left on the table and your computer when a phone ringing startled you awake. The noise echoed inside your head and, as you lifted your head, the sunlight getting into the room through the curtains hurt your eyes. You only noticed how bad you’d slept when you felt a pain shoot through your neck and down your back as you turned your head to look for the phone – great. You groaned and felt around the table with your hand until you felt the square shape of the device and its humming. You clicked to answer after slightly clearing your throat so you’d seem less sleepy and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello, Agent L/N speaking”

“Hey Y/N, how are things going?” The voice of your boss made you unconsciously straighten your back and swallow harshly. You looked at the time on your computer and your heart fell to your stomach. 11:36AM – shit! 

“Hey Sir, everything is running smoothly. I’m currently collecting evidence and later I’m going to the morgue so I can look through the autopsy”

“That’s great, you always do a great job kid” He said and you could feel him smiling on the other side of the line. You felt bad for kind of lying but you had been worrying about other stuff last night.

“Thank you Sir, I’ll report back to you as soon as possible” You reply.

You talked for a while longer as you disclosed the case and, when he finally hung up, it was already past noon. As you got ready for your day, doing your daily morning routine as quickly as you could, you felt your stomach rumble when you got out of the shower, reminding you that you hadn’t had breakfast. You decided then that it was better to stop at a diner or somewhere so you could eat something to go on with your day – since it was already lunchtime you couldn’t necessarily call this brunch. You finished getting ready, putting on your shoes and grabbing the keys to your car while you looked up the closest place to eat something quick.

You drove to the nearest diner that had a decent rating and stopped at the parking lot. When you looked around, you couldn’t believe your luck – or rather the lack of it. The infamous Impala was parked a couple meters from you in all its glory. You audibly sighed but you couldn’t just find another place to eat as quickly, besides, you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Maybe eating at the same place as them was actually a good strategy. You grabbed your wallet and locked your car, confidently walking towards the diner entrance.

The bells dinged above your head as you got in, some eyes looking your way with the noise – including Sam’s. Him and his brother were sitting in a booth in the far corner of the diner, Sam turned in the direction of the door and Dean facing away from it, in his brother’s direction. Sam had his laptop open in front of him as he ate a salad, Dean was eating a burger. Thay had probably been talking before you came in because when you came through the door Sam went quiet as he looked over his brother’s shoulder and Dean kept talking, hunched over his food. You couldn’t listen to their conversation but you gave Sam a slight smile and a nod, your stomach turning as you faked sympathy, as if you didn’t just friendly greet a murderer. He nodded back and that's when Dean slightly turned to look behind him and see you, nodding as well.

You started to walk towards their table, the weight of your hidden gun on your hip more than evident. Just keep calm, you were trained for this. You decided to keep to yourself that you knew their true identity, after all, you were one step ahead of them and, deep down, you knew they could be useful. Their intelligence was beyond impressive – faking your death wasn’t something easy to do. You stood above them with a gentle smile.

“Hello agents, mind if I sit with you?” You asked as politely as you could. Sam scooted almost instantly, changing the placement of his laptop to the side of the window. You didn’t miss the eyebrow raise his brother gave him.

“Hey Ms. L/N. No, not at all, make yourself comfortable” He said, smiling at you. He has dimples you mentally stated.

“Yeah, please” Dean agreed, stretching a hand to the seat beside Sam. His voice was slightly muffled thanks to the food in his mouth and you internally cringed as you could see the chewed food when he talked.

“Thanks. No need to call me by my last name, you can just call me Y/N” You simply said as you sat down, looking almost immediately to the computer screen open in newspapers that dated a couple years back. Murders in the same house all with the same time frame from each other. “I see you work even while you were supposed to be on your break, careful not to burn out Agent Page” You said, looking at his side profile. He seemed embarrassed as your sweet voice got to his ears and awkwardly laughed.

“You know…you don’t need to call me Agent Page, that is just an alias, call me Smith, Sam Smith. That’s Dean Wesson” He said. Huh, claiming aliases, smart move Winchester. “And yeah, I’ve been taking a look at the history of the place, apparently–”

“It’s timed killing” You finished. You scooted slightly closer, pointing your finger to the screen where the date of the newspaper was written at. “Every two years on the same date someone was brutally murdered in the house.”

“Yeah and inside the same room too” Dean pointed out. That you hadn’t noticed. A waiter coming to get your order interrupted the conversation you three were having to get your order. You quickly looked through the menu deciding to eat the quickest and most nutritious stuff there could be at a diner. You thanked the boy that took your order and he walked in long strides towards the kitchen. You came back to the talk you were having with the two brothers and Dean continued. “The master suite. And always couples, someone seems to hate true love” He joked.

“Apparently. Have any ideas for suspects yet?” You asked. If you were going to play pretend you might as well acquire some useful information with it. The boys shared a look between them that they thought you wouldn’t catch, but you weren’t FBI for no reason.

“None yet, still looking into it” Sam said, suddenly seeming on edge, shifting his placement on the booth. You were good at reading body language, it was one of the main qualities that got you in the FBI, interrogating criminals was easy exactly because they couldn’t lie. When you learned their behavior and played your way into their head it destroyed them because even if they were silent, even if they didn’t say anything, you knew what they were lying about – flinching when you mention a certain name or changing the leg they were crossing under the table when you named an address. So, Sam couldn’t hide from you earlier, imagine now that you were inches away.

“Really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and turning your torso slightly more in his direction, leaning your elbow on the table. He was trapped. You thought about confronting them here, questioning them about their identity in public but you thought better – they definitely had guns on them and two beats one. Either way, you’d put him in a challenging situation, confronting him without even disagreeing verbally. He felt intimidated and now seemed unsure of his own conclusion – how you loved playing these games.

“I mean there’s barely any clues” He laughed nervously. “I was going to call you to see if you had any idea”

“I don’t either, as you said, no leads” You said. The waiter arrived with your food right then and you politely thanked him, drifting away from the conversation you were having with Sam as you started to eat. This time you weren’t paying attention and Dean questioned Sam with a look. What is she on? And the youngest shrugged. You swallowed your food with a pleasant hum, just now noticing how hungry you truly were. “I was thinking we could go to the morgue, if you haven’t already. Take a look at the bodies, see if we find anything”

You were purposefully playing right into their game, faking cluesness and at the same time taking advantage of their abilities to solve the case. It was more important to you to solve whatever was going on to bring peace back to this town than to arrest the brothers who were supposed to be dead. You’d learned that men tended to believe that you were stupid very easily, that you had no idea what you were doing and you started using that to have your way with them. With big doe eyes and feigned innocence you could get very far.

“That’s where we were going later actually. It’s good if you tag along” Sam tells you.

“I would even if you didn’t want me to” You said, joking, but not really. Your tone was humorous  but your smile was bitter. They didn’t seem to notice though and Sam even chuckled slightly at your sarcasm. You noticed the dimples in his cheeks and how boyish his smile was, full of bright white teeth and sincerity. You almost felt bad for being rude until you remembered they were killers – even if they didn’t look like it. Sam didn’t seem the type to brutally murder someone, Dean seemed too stupid to be able to get away with it for so many years, even faking his own death and walking around normally – you’d bet he was the one with the idea to put the name of famous rockstars as FBI aliases.

By the time the conversation was over, so was your food. You left enough money for the bill and a tip and stood up from the booth. “Okay, well, let’s go, we have a lot to do today boys” You said, adjusting your suit, unnecessarily dusting it off. You eyed Dean’s plate, the mess he made similar to how a child would eat. You would have laughed if you were in a more friendly situation. You looked at Sam and with a smile you said: “Don’t be late pretty boy, I’ll be waiting for you”

Then you turned around, politely nodded goodbye to Dean and started walking away, holding back a laugh. Sam stood still, stunned as he stared at you walked out the door, the bells above you ringing twice – one for when you pulled the door, the other after you let it smoothly close behind you. Dean was staring too, his bright green eyes filled with confusion. Once he turned to look at Sam he saw his younger brother completely zoned out, looking in the direction where you once were. He snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face, who immediately looked at Dean.

“Pretty boy?” Dean questioned, holding back a smirk as Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dean…”

“She’s got you man. I get it, strong and intimidating women, I understand, I understand”

“That’s not it, she seems…off” Sam points out, looking at the door once more to make sure you wouldn’t come back and leaning closer to unnecessarily speak in a lower voice to Dean. “I think she might be an it, the monster we are looking for”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

“The way she’s acting is, I don’t know, weird”

“Look Sam I know you’re not used to having women hit on you but that doesn’t mean they are monsters” Dean teased, Sam gritted his teeth.

“Dean, I’m serious!”

“Okay, alright, we are going to investigate then” Dean said, raising his hands in fake surrender to his brother’s scolding. “But it doesn’t make sense to me. Didn’t we consider it to be a vengeful spirit?”

“Maybe, or maybe we are dealing with something completely different”

“Alright smart-ass, but if you’re wrong you owe me a six pack”

Sam scoffed but he wasn’t one to turn down any bet. He had thought your behavior was weird the moment you stepped foot in the diner. The questions you asked, the way you would constantly question his abilities, there was something going on and he could sense it. Besides, he liked betting with Dean, especially winning, so there was no way he wasn’t accepting his brother’s challenge.

“Deal” Sam said, hitting his palms against the table and standing up, ready to leave and go to the morgue. Dean followed his movements and stood up with a cheeky smile, taking out his wallet to pay for the food.

–

At the morgue, you waited about 5 minutes until they arrived. When they walked up to the entrance you were waiting at, Sam and Dean saw you in a much more serious state as you read through your notes and made annotations here and there. The noise of their footsteps made you look up and put your little notebook back in your pocket and place your pen behind your ear. You crossed your arms in front of your body and waited for them to get closer. Your heels were starting to hurt the bottom of your feet from standing too long in the same place and you were overwhelmed with different emotions – towards the men and yourself.

You weren’t necessarily scared of Sam and Dean, you were trained not to be, but it was never in your plans to be alone in a city with federal criminals, it would be downright ignorant not to be at least nervous with the situation. You were keeping yourself friendly without giving away any hint that you might know who they were, debating internally which would be the worst case: if you confronted them or stuck beside them for longer – what’s that say again? Friends close, enemies closer.

“Hey, Y/N” Sam called you and you turned your lips upwards in some-kind of a smile. He mirrored your expression and you caught his dimples again, your eyes wandering around his face. You broke the stare when Dean cleared his throat and, when you looked at him, he had his eyebrows furrowed, giving Sam a side-eye – more like a diagonal one, since, well, Sam was a big guy. In your own trance you hadn’t noticed how Sam was also looking at you like you were a beautiful piece of art – damn it, focus.

You also cleared your throat and that seemed to wake Sam up. “Hello Sam, Dean” You said, nodding to each “Shall we go inside? The longer we take the further the killer goes, come on” You turned your back to the and started walking inside the morgue. Dean waited until you walked further and held Sam by the elbow, making the youngest look at him in confusion.

“Stop that” Dean whisper-yelled.

“Stop what” Sam whispered back.

“Whatever your eyes are doing, I’m gonna puke if you keep that up”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You stop it, you’re reading too much into it”

“Hey, you are the one that said she might be dangerous and, honestly, you are kind of a monsterfu-”

“Dean!” Sam pushed his shoulder to shut him up.

“C’mon you were hypnotized, maybe that’s what she does, or you are just in love” Dean shrugged his shoulders, holding back a grin. He loved making Sam mad.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s go now or do you have any other stupid remarks?” Sam didn’t wait for an answer as he followed the direction you went in. Dean mocked his brother, mimicking Sam’s words to himself in a high pitched tone and went along.

You were already putting your gloves on when they came into the room, the dead bodies laying before you - or at least what was left of them. The lower part of the couple’s bodies was covered beneath the pale blue blankets and both torsos were exposed. It was an awful sight and, if you were about ten years younger, you would’ve puked. Everything was dilacerated, they were practically disfigured, their faces barely recognizable. Huge gashes adorned their bodies that even cleaned up still looked absolutely vile. Behind you, Dean hissed.

“Wow” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, very brutal, whoever did this wanted them to feel the pain” You said, snapping the latex gloves against your wrist and grabbing the file about the autopsy in your hands. You skimmed through the words and placed it back on the table where it previously was, turning back to the bodies to see Sam already looking through them, Dean putting on the blue gloves the mortuary offered. You approached Sam’s side and crossed your arms as you watched him work, his hands roaming through the deep rips on the skin, he seemed to come to the same conclusion you did. “It’s not a clean cut, see” You pointed out and he nodded, turning to you.

“Yeah, the skin is–”

“Ripped, not cut” You paused “How can someone do this and just…get on with their lives?” You thought out loud. You discreetly looked up to Sam’s face to see if he had any reaction to your words, to see if his face faltered when you mentioned how psychotic it would be to keep going after killing someone, to see something, anything…

His face was blank.

“You’d be shocked at what…people can do” Sam replied. He seemed to hesitate before saying ‘people’, a hard swallow, a thought behind his eyes and you marked that in your mind for later.

“Sam, I work in the FBI too you know, I’ve seen shit” Maybe you were harsh, maybe you were just defensive or maybe the years of being brought down by men in your field made you snap at his words when they weren’t that deep. He seemed to catch on to your aggressiveness and stumbled over his words to try and reword his phrase.

“No– I-I know it’s just– I mean–” He couldn’t get the words out. You softened at that, noticing your defensiveness was, in fact, exaggerated. You chuckled at him and waved your hand dismissively.

“I get what you meant” You said and he seemed to calm down, giving you a slight smile. Dimples. Again. You turned back to the bodies in front of you and reached for your pocket to get your notes. You started patting with your other hand for your pen through the other pockets and when you didn’t feel the distinctively cylindrical shape of the object you started to freak out. Where’d I leave it…

Sam noticed your squirming and when he saw the notebook in your hand he knew exactly what you were looking for. He held back a chuckle as he watched you try your hardest to remember where the pen was, the concentration in your eyes almost touchable.

“Hey” Sam called and you turned your head to him. He reached his hand up, close to your cheek and you could sense the heat radiating from his body. You froze in place as you thought that you were caught, that Sam’s intelligence overpowered yours and he figured out that you knew who he was. Well, you were wrong. Sam caught the pen you had put behind your ear between his fingers and slid it off of it, watching as your hair fell back into place. You wanted to bury yourself whole inside the ground as you felt heat spread through your face. “Here” He said, with a cheeky smile.

You took the pen out of his hand, your fingers brushing lightly against each other “Thanks” You mumbled. You started writing away what you figured from the autopsy but you couldn’t get your mind off of how close Sam had gotten. The warmth that he emitted was captivating, comforting even. How could you even think that? You were a professional, what the hell! You shouldn’t be feeling this way, you had a job to do, lives to save. Sam was a killer, you put killers in jail. That’s it.

“Okay so…” Dean spoke up, breaking your embarrassment “...We can discard any murder with weapons like guns or knives, those can’t do…this” He made a face and pointed towards the wounds. You nodded in agreement as you wrote it down. When you looked up at them again they were sharing a look, having a full conversation without even speaking. You weren’t a professional in facial expressions but you could read the room, you were being kept in the dark about something. You decided against confronting them, unneeded drama in the current settings because, indeed, the longer you took to solve this case, the closer the killer was to killing other people.

“So, I have no idea if you already did but I didn’t look further in the room where the murder happened. I think I’m going to go back to the house and see if the local cops missed anything” You said, not waiting for an answer as you pocketed your notebook again and started taking off your gloves. You didn’t request their company as you were, first, still trying to figure out why they were so adamant about solving this case, second, you had to figure this murder out, and third, you needed to find a perfect moment to confront both of them. “See you around agents”

“See ya” Dean waved at you as you walked away, Sam didn’t say anything. You knew they were going to follow you, you felt their silent conversations lingering in the air as you left the room, discarding your gloves. In your head you could see them communicating with lifting eyebrows and shrugging shoulders – they were so obvious; and predictable.

–

“We are going after her” Sam said to Dean after he heard you leave. Dean nodded as he started taking off his own gloves, side eyeing his brother. Dean wasn’t stupid – he only acted like it – he knew that there was more than one reason for Sam’s eagerness to follow you.

“So…” He started and Sam knew there was something he might not like hearing coming. “Are you going to play the brave soldier saving the damsel in distress?”

Sam stopped and looked at Dean, absolute confusion adorning his features. “What?”

“Man c’mon, you can’t be thinking that she is the monster now can you? Look, I did the tests while you were…pining over her” Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean didn’t let him speak. “There was holy water in her drink at the diner, the utensils she was using were pure silver…”

Sam was shocked that his brother thought that quickly, he didn’t even notice…Okay, maybe he was infatuated by you a little too much.

“She could be a ghoul,” Sam argued as a last resort.

“Already looked her up, no one that has that beautiful face has died around here. I’ve looked through the FBI database too, she’s there” Dean said. Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the tiniest bit of relief knowing that you were really human. You were, in fact, beautiful, stunning even. Maybe Dean was right, maybe he did like you, a lot.

“Guess I owe you that six pack then” Sam said.

“Hey, I get the six pack, you get the girl, seems like a fair trade” Dean said, raising his eyebrows tauntingly with a cheeky smile on his face. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“Either way, we have to go after her because if this ghost decides she’s next on its list, we need to get there before she gets hurt” Sam said in all seriousness as he started walking out of the room, going towards the exit. Dean followed suit, the Impala keys already on his hand.

–

They arrived at the house a minute or two after you. You were waiting in the house’s living room as you heard the rumbling of the old car’s engine. You had your weapon ready and loaded as you heard them open and close the door of the house. As soon as they turned the corner, you lifted your gun.

“Stay right fucking there! Don’t you dare move or else I’ll actually kill you, for good this time!” You screamed at them, gun in hand pointed towards Dean’s head. They widened their eyes and stopped all their movement. Sam opened his mouth to try and talk and you shifted the gun to point at him instead. He shut his mouth again and you saw his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. You were fuming, anger making your hands shake lightly.

“Did you really think you were going to fool me? Who do you think you are– Better, who do you think I am?” They stood as still as a rock. “Sam and Dean Winchester” You said their names, venom running through your tongue as you did, your gun pointing respectively at each. “You better start talking or I’m popping your heads off, speak!”

“Okay, okay, look we can explain” Sam started.

“You fucking better”

“We are not dead” He said and you looked at him like he was stupid. “Me and my brother we faked our deaths but we had a reason, a much bigger reason”

“You killed people”

“We didn’t, at least not intentionally, we do the exact opposite, we save people Y/N”

“How? The deaths are there, if you are telling me the truth and really save people you do a terrible job at that” You countered. You admitted you only said this to get under their skin because if anyone knew that saving everyone was impossible was you, a federal agent.

“Put the gun down and we can talk” Dean spoke up, talking to you calmly and moving his hands slowly to try and reason with you. You were reluctant but something in their eyes, their actions towards you didn’t indicate any imminent danger. Maybe you were being stupid and, at the end, you’d be lying in a ditch, lifeless, left there to rot but you wanted to give them a chance.

“If you try anything funny I’ll claw your eyes out with my bare hands” You said and Dean, even shocked, nodded slowly – you were exaggerating but you felt the need to. You sighed and put your gun back in the waistband of your pants and saw the boys breathe in a deep breath of relief.

Sam and Dean exchanged those looks again and finally looked at you. Sam was the one you wanted to talk to, you felt deep, deep down that he was going to tell you the truth and that he was actually a good guy, that all that he did until now wasn’t just an act and he was really nice.

“Me and Dean we…We hunt monsters”

Well, now your hopes are shattered. What the fuck.

You just looked at him like he was clinically insane and waited for him to continue.

“I know it sounds crazy” Because it is “And it probably is but it’s the truth, we don’t think whatever killed that couple was a human, this is why there’s no DNA, not a single clue and why the case is hard. I assume you were assigned it because you are smart and a good agent but this is not your kind of case”

“It’s ours” Dean added and Sam agreed with a nod.

You were dumbfounded. They sounded so serious as they explained to you about the tons of different supernatural beings that existed, things you only ever heard of in fictional books and horror movies. Halfway through the talk you looked physically sick, your face pale and eyes dissociated completely and Sam quickly got a chair, ushering you to sit down. He was looking at you with such a guilty expression, like he felt bad for lying to you.

Once they stopped talking you spent a good five minutes absorbing it all as you stared at your hands folded over your lap. You thought you knew things, you thought you could solve everything, that all you needed to do was analyze everything to its minute details and you’d find a solution. Truth is, you were completely oblivious all this long, so many things that you had no idea existed causing trouble around the world, things worse than humans could ever be. You were an idiot.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Sam asked after a while, making you look up at him. “I know it’s a lot to process…” He said, carefully laying a hand over your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m going to be fine” You said harshly. Sam felt the slight disappointment in your voice and frowned as he looked down at you. He had seen tons of different reactions to ‘the talk’ but this one was one of the worst, where the person feels upset with themselves for not knowing about this sooner, the kind of reaction he saw mostly on authority figures such as cops and federal agents like yourself.

You stood up and his hand fell from your shoulder. You needed to make this right, paranormal or not, this was still your case and you were solving it one way or another.

“Show me how you do it” You said, turning to look at Sam. The phrase got Dean’s attention as well as a sudden tension fell upon the room. Sam looked at you with confusion “This case is still mine, I want to learn how to get rid of…whatever killed that couple”

Sam exchanged looks with his brother. “I don’t think this is a good idea Y/N, you can get hurt” He said. You rolled your eyes and stepped closer to him, less than a foot between the two of you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m a federal agent, you don’t get to tell me I’m going to get hurt when I literally hunt and kill people if needed” You said angrily pointing your finger at him accusingly “Your little Ghostbusters roleplay doesn’t scare me”

“Okay, can you two stop? Let’s get out of here and go study about the house to see if we find anything about someone who died here who might want revenge” Dean said, approaching and looking between the two of you. “Please”

–

After spending two hours in the nearby library you finally found something. The one responsible for the killings was someone named Alicia Meadows who died in the late 60s, not little kids – it seemed like even the own urban legend the locals passed around was wrong. She was a woman who lived in that house with her husband and kids. One night she found her husband in their bed with another woman and went crazy, killing them both with a shotgun and then shooting herself. Ever since then she’d been killing couples who stayed there, the trauma of the cheating made her assume that everyone who laid in that bed on the same date, every two years, she found her husband and his mistress was also having an affair.

You three soon found out where she was buried and, after the brothers explained to you and made you swear not to arrest them for grave violation, you were driving to the cemetery.

As Dean was digging up the casket you stood beside Sam. “Do you guys do this everyday?”

Sam looked at you with a smile. “No, sometimes we behead vampires too”

You looked at him wide eyed and chuckled. He laughed with you, his face looking ten times more beautiful under the moonlight and the fucking dimples, the damn dimples. Silence fell between you as the sounds of the night – and Dean’s digging – took over. You wanted to talk more, you wanted to know more about Sam because the little you thought you knew was actually a lie. He was nice and, according to the FBI files…

“You went to law school?” You asked him. He sighed. Well damn Y/N so much for breaking the ice, good job. 

“I did but…I went back to hunting soon after, you can’t run from this type of job you know?” He chuckled dryly. It was clear that was a sensitive subject for him to talk about.

“If it helps, you would’ve made a good lawyer” You smiled at him. “Besides, you look great in a suit”

He seemed stunned for a few seconds, were you flirting with him? He didn’t get to figure out because Dean made a dramatic pained sound as he straightened his back, breaking the casket open. The putrid smell of death rose and you scrunch your nose. Sam helped Dean get out of the hole and started showering the bones in alcohol and salt and you watched as Dean threw his lighter in making huge flames rise up. You jumped when it happened out of shock and Sam held your shoulders so you wouldn’t fall back, the flames roared loudly with what seemed to be the anger of the woman.

Dean started gathering their stuff and you turned to Sam. “So, is this it?”

“Yeah…pretty simple actually” Sam shrugged. He looked at the fire and you could see the flames dancing in his eyes. You found Sam handsome ever since you laid your eyes on him but now, after a whole day by his side, the light touches you shared throughout the day and the care he showed towards you you wondered if it’d be too bad if you kissed him right now.

“Sam” You called him lowly and he turned to you. You stepped closer and you could see his hands clenching and unclenching by his side, as if he was holding back the urge to touch you. Your faces were inches apart and you could now see every little detail about him. The light stubble that adorned his face and the blush of red in his cheeks that you didn’t know if it was because of the heat of the fire or because you were this close.

You smiled at him and in that moment Sam couldn’t hold himself back. He closed the distance between the two of you as one of his hands cradled your cheek and the other was gently placed on your waist.

You let one of your hands place itself on his neck as you reciprocated the kiss. It was electric and warm, his soft lips over yours felt like a sweetness you didn’t know you were craving to taste. Your heart was beating fast and Sam slowly dragged your body closer to his with the help of the hand he placed on your waist.

When you pulled away you slowly opened your eyes to look straight into his and let out a stupid giggle – like a teenager after kissing her crush. Sam chuckled back as his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly.

“I've wanted to do this ever since the diner” He admitted and you bit back a smile.

“Really?” You asked.

“Really”

The moment was interrupted when Dean honked the Impala, impatiently waiting for you two to finish whatever you were doing so he could go back to the room and finally sleep. Sam showed him the finger as Dean yelled a curse back making you laugh at their stupid teasing.

“Let’s go Sam, Dean’s impatient. We can finish our talk at the motel” You said, your words full of innuendo making Sam turn back to you. You knew you got him when you felt his hand squeeze your waist for a moment before letting go.

“Oh yeah?” He said with a grin, looking down at your mouth and back at your eyes. You nodded.

“Yeah”

A/N: Likes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading XoXo

[cinnamostar]

01: self-fulfilling prophecy 

part two.

pairing : jisung x gn!reader

summary : han jisung, the man who is incapable of maintaining a relationship for more than a few months. han jisung, the man who is in complete denial that maybe he is the problem. han jisung, the man who has convinced himself he isn’t meant for love.

wc : 8.5k

cw : not proof read, nonidol!au, alcohol/drinking, sadness, angst, arguing, cursing, some cute stuff. plz let me know if i missed anything.

a/n : likes, reblogs, and feedback is much appreciated!! not too confident on this one because idk, i feel like the dialogue isn’t well executed, but let me know what you think. please enjoy!

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Jisung didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to romance. He never did anything exceedingly horrendous, he always remained faithful in each relationship he had, but they never lasted long. He simply didn’t know how to be a good partner, always too focused on his own needs to the point that his selfishness turned into emotional neglect for the other. 

It’s not that he didn’t like the people he dated. He genuinely adored them for who they were, yet he always found himself heartbroken and confused at the end of each relationship when they would all voice the same exact reasonings on why they were ending it. 

“I just don’t feel like you care about my feelings.”

“It feels like you don’t even like me enough to put in the effort to make this work.”

“I don’t feel like a priority in your life.”

“I swear you forget we’re even in a relationship.”

“You’re too focused on yourself and everything else to even make time for me.”

Like clockwork, a few months would pass by and his partner would sit him down for the break up talk. It was exhausting. He was clueless, not having any idea what he was doing so wrong even though he would always receive a list of reasons each time. In his eyes, he was doing the best he could, but perhaps his best was not enough. 

Of course he cared for their feelings! Of course he liked them, he could’ve sworn he was doing his damnedest. Not a priority? That was ridiculous, he always made time to spend with his partner during the week despite his busy schedule. Forget? Nonsense! Too focused on himself? Well, of course he was focused on pursuing his music career which required long hours at the studio, why would he want to be with someone who didn’t support his endeavors? They knew what they were getting into when they met him!

It made zero sense to Jisung. At some point, he had given up on love altogether. Maybe he just wasn’t meant for it, maybe relationships were just not his thing. Clearly, he was doing something wrong and he decided that maybe hook up culture was just where he belonged. 

What Jisung failed to realize was that he was forcing his own ideals of a relationship onto his partners. The idea that people had different needs and perceptions on how relationships should function never dawned on him. He never thought to consider what the other person wanted and had simply assumed they would be content with whatever he had to offer. 

He forgot that some people needed more reassurance. He forgot some people wanted to go on actual dates, not everyone considered a night in a date, especially if every date was a night in. He forgot that some people didn’t just want to sit in a room with him while he was on his phone or working on his next project. Sometimes people wanted his undivided attention. Sometimes people wanted to be able to hold a conversation with him. Sometimes people needed more communication because quite frankly, three texts a day didn’t quite cut it for most people.

Yet, Jisung was too absorbed in his own world and his passions to even begin to understand that concept. He absolutely refused to believe he was doing something wrong and that he was just dating the wrong people this whole time. He just hadn’t found the one, right?

Despite that foolish belief he stubbornly held onto, it didn’t mean each instance didn’t take a hit on his ego. After the many failed relationships he had been through, the fear of inadequacy and insecurity began to creep into his mind. Was he not worthy of love? Was he incapable of forming a healthy relationship? Was something wrong with him?

He felt that he had so much love to offer in his heart, but he had no idea what it took to be a good partner. He was too tunnel visioned on producing and music to realize that sometimes, love and relationships required a bit of sacrifice, and that was something he refused to do.

Yet, Jisung wanted to fall in love. Like any other human on earth, he craved to love and be loved, to be understood wordlessly by someone else, but it seemed like love didn’t welcome him with open arms. He desperately wanted to feel like he was needed and wanted, to feel the bubbling shyness and giddiness that only love could give him, but somehow, it seemed that he was the victim of a paradox. Love hated him.

However, Jisung had resigned and accepted defeat. He wasn’t cut out for it. Besides, it’s not like anyone would even bother to give him a chance anymore. After a few failed relationships, people were quick to label him as ‘trash’ and a terrible boyfriend, only good for fun, but definitely nothing more. It was almost as if he had a permanent warning label above his head that scared off anyone who had any remote interest in him. 

People talked. And if anyone so much expressed any interest in him, someone would leap in to rescue them from a foreseeable heartbreak, telling them he was no good and a waste of time. Oh, but if you wanted a few nights of fun and to just fool around, he was perfect for that, but never, and absolutely under no circumstances, was he someone to settle down with. 

He was the only one to blame for his infamy in the dating scene, but Jisung was suffering from a case of extreme delusion and oblivion. Maybe one day he would lose that self-centered immaturity and have a much needed epiphany, but that day seemed far off in the future.

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For the past week, Jisung had holed himself in his studio, insistent on perfecting his latest track by some arbitrary deadline he had set for himself. This was a regular occurrence that his friends had gotten used to. They would be more surprised if this didn’t happen, but this also meant that they had to pay a visit to his studio every few days and force him to take a break for the sake of his mental and physical health. 

Today was one of those days in which Minho came knocking at his door after unlocking the door with the passcode Jisung had given him long ago, reminding him to come by his place later that night for a small party to celebrate his dance troop’s recent competition win. While Jisung was proud of this achievement, part of him felt a tad bit annoyed that he had to interrupt his work schedule for someone else, but Minho was one of his best friends, he at the very least should show up for a bit. He could stay for an hour or two, and hopefully by then everyone would be a little too drunk to notice he had escaped back to his studio.

Jisung sighed as he begrudgingly made his way to Minho’s apartment, dreading the amount of people he would have to socialize with tonight. He was relieved to know that a few familiar faces would be there, such as Hyunjin and Felix, who were also part of the troop, but the team had also gone through auditions recently, meaning there would be people he would have to meet for the first time.

He wasn’t one for befriending strangers, as oftentimes, many of them had a negative impression of him due to his dating history. He hated how every time he introduced himself, as soon as the words “Han Jisung” left his mouth, people’s faces would drop into an unreadable expression, almost as if they were disappointed to finally meet the man who was rumored to be complete and utter trash. It was anxiety-inducing and turned him off from seeking out new friendships because everyone would always say “Oh! Did you used to date my friend?” And at that moment, he knew it was over. They hated him before they even got to know him. As a result, Jisung always felt apprehensive when it came to meeting new people and he much preferred sticking with his small circle of friends. 

As Jisung arrived at the front steps of Minho’s apartment, he felt his shoulders tense up with trepidation as he subconsciously bit the inside of his cheek. The party had already started with the music blaring throughout the building, the lights dimmed with colorful LEDs visible from the window. A chorus of joyful cheers followed by the clinking of shot glasses and laughter could be heard from outside, signaling that the party was already in full swing. Jisung let out an uneasy groan, unprepared for what the night would bring, but reassured himself knowing that he only needed to stay for at least an hour before he could retreat back to the safe haven known as his studio.

After a sharp inhale, Jisung put on a fake smile as he opened the door, instantly greeted by a drunken Changbin who was double fisting two beers, wearing a toothy smile.

“Jisung! You made it!”

The last thing Jisung wanted tonight was to be put in the spotlight, which Changbin just unknowingly thrust him into with no warning. Others nearby turned their attention to the front door, some choosing to ignore Jisung’s presence to continue their conversations while others politely waved or called out a quick hello. 

Minho shortly appeared in Jisung’s vision, grinning from ear to ear as he pulled him into a one-armed hug, “Glad you showed up, I was worried you forgot!” An airy chuckle escaped Minho as Jisung gasped, feigning a look of betrayal while playfully shoving Minho’s shoulder, “How dare you think I’d forget my best friend’s party? I would never!”

Minho rolled his eyes at Jisung’s gesture before dragging him by his wrist. “Whatever you say, but c’mon! I want you to meet our new members. Plus, you look a little too stiff for my liking,so  let's get some drinks in ya first.”

Suddenly, shot glasses filled with tequila were shoved into Jisung’s hand as people egged him on to down them, chasing the two shots with lime and salt to cut through the harshness of the alcohol. A familiar buzz took over his senses, his head feeling lighter than usual as a lopsided smile appeared on his face while the nervousness he felt earlier quickly dissipated. 

The bit of liquid courage energized Jisung enough to forget all the now seemingly silly concerns he had earlier as he jumped through the bunches of people, excitedly yapping away as he caught up with friends and introduced himself to new people. Each time he noticed someone cringing at the sound of his name or giving him a dirty look, he would promptly take another shot to rid himself of the anxiety he was feeling, hoping the alcohol would make him just unaware enough of any other glares he would receive from people that night.

Eventually, Jisung made his way to the loft upstairs to take a break from the hectic party below, already feeling a headache coming on. He stumbled his way to the couch, not paying much mind to his surroundings as he plopped himself onto the couch, immediately throwing his head back while shutting his eyes.

“Oh, he definitely overdid it again,” laughed Felix from the left of him, “How many shots did you take?”

Jisung waved his hand as if he was shooing Felix away while mumbling, “Don’t even ask.”

He heard an unfamiliar giggle erupt from the right side of him, causing him to sit straight up with his eyes wide, hastily snapping his head to see who the laugh belonged to, not expecting anyone other than his friends here.

He found himself staring into your eyes that were crinkled from laughing, a lax smile adorning your face as you brought up a hand to hide behind. Your laugh was rich and decadent, almost as sweet as chocolate, and your smile was so refreshing that it instantly roused him from his drunken state the moment his eyes landed on you.

Oh, shit, they’re cute.

Jisung’s inebriated state had caused him to lose all self-awareness because all he could do was gawk at you with enamored eyes, his lips slightly parted as he struggled to find the words to introduce himself. He felt his face flush from embarrassment when you returned his gaze while wearing an expectant expression, patiently waiting for him to finish his sentence.

“I- Oh, uhm, I…”

You had instantly captured his heart with the most saccharine smile he has ever seen and within a few seconds, Jisung was undeniably smitten, but he was also completely making a fool of himself within those same few seconds.

“Jesus christ, Jisung, how drunk are you?” howled Hyunjin, who had gotten up to lightly poke Jisung’s cheek, “Helloooo, earth to Jisung? Anyone home?”

“Dude… Close your mouth before you start drooling over there. I don’t think that’s an image you want Y/N to have during your first meeting,” Seungmin, who was sitting on the floor, mischievously sneered, quickly recognizing Jisung’s speechless state was caused by something more than just alcohol. Jisung shook his head side to side to wake himself from his lovestruck daze, clearing his throat in an attempt to cover up Seungmin’s comment. 

“Mm, sorry! I just-,” 

Oh, this is bad, he really is making this so much worse for himself. He was now regretting all the shots from earlier as he tripped over his words, his nerves not being of any help. He desperately was trying to say something sensible, but instead, all he could blurt out was,

“Jisung! I’m Jisung… yeah!”

Now it is a lot worse as Jisung cringed at how loud and annoying his voice was, everyone else also seemingly cowering from second hand embarrassment as they watched the scene unfold, but no one was able to peel their eyes away.

Like an angel sent from heaven, Felix decided to have mercy on the brown haired boy, peeking out from behind Jisung to meet your eyes at the other side of the couch. “Y/N, this is our friend Jisung! He makes music with Changbin and Chan. Jisung, this is Y/N. They’re one of our newest members on the team.” God, Jisung could kiss Felix right now from how relieved he was to have alleviated the awkward tension he had just created moments earlier.

You nodded, smiling at Jisung as your eyes lit up in realization, “Oh, Jisung? I’ve heard about you before.”

Ah, there it is. Of course! Of course you have and how stupid of him to think he’d be able to have an untarnished first impression with you and-

“Minho says so many good things about you! He even showed me some of your songs. You’re really talented at what you do, I definitely added a few to my playlist.”

Someone pinch Jisung right now because he must be dreaming, there’s absolutely no way. Is luck finally on his side? Has God finally decided to be oh-so-merciful today? He was on cloud nine as he relished in your compliments, savoring this moment because this may never happen again.

Jisung clicked his teeth as he waved both his hands in front of him with a flustered smile, “Oh, no, no, no, I am not that good! But thank you!” The alcohol was really doing a number on him as he slurred over each syllable, but thankfully he was coherent enough for everyone to understand what he said. 

You let out a breathy laugh at his antics while standing from your seat, “Well, it's nice to finally put a face to the name, but I do have to go now, I have to be up early.”

Jisung deflated as everyone wished you good night, feeling disappointed how quickly your first meeting with him ended. Hyunjin stood up, offering to walk you out and once you were out of earshot, Jisung whipped his head to Felix.

“Felix… Who was that? How long have you been hiding them from me?”

Seungmin struggled to contain his laugh, earning a confused look from Jisung, “What are you laughing at?”

“Dude, you. You looked so stupid trying to talk to them.”

Jisung threw himself back into the couch, sinking into the cushions with an embarrassed groan, “Shut up, I know.”

Felix laughed, shooting Jisung a pitiful smile, “You’ve done worse, it’s fine. And no one was hiding them from you, you just never show up when we invite you anywhere. That is your own fault, not ours!” Jisung pouted, cursing himself mentally for rejecting all those plans.

“They’re cool, they’ve been on our team for a few months. Crazy good at dancing too, we are super lucky to have them.”

“Are they dating anyone?”

The room grew quiet at Jisung’s question as Seungmin and Felix looked at each other with uneasiness, unsure how to respond. Hyunjin had come back up the stairs after walking you to your car, just in time to hear Jisung. He let out a heavy sigh, alerting everyone of his presence.

“I… I think it's best if you just leave them alone, Jisung. They’re a really sweet person and you, well…”

“Me what? What do you mean?” Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at Hyunjin as the taller boy struggled to finish his thought.

“Just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Seriously, Jisung? I know you’re wasted right now, but don’t make me say it. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

And he did, he knew that Hyunjin was referring to his dating history, but Jisung felt himself growing angry hearing his friend allude to him being a bad partner, suggesting he would hurt you. 

“No, I want to hear you say it,” Jisung spat out, a scowl painted all over his face as he stared down Hyunjin with his arms crossed, who was still standing by the stairs. He felt himself become warm in frustration as all the insecurities he held close to his heart started to bubble up. Did his own friend’s think so poorly of him too?

Felix reached out to put a reassuring hand on Jisung’s shoulder, hoping to defuse the situation, “Let’s not do this right now. You’re still drunk, Jisung.” Jisung shook Felix’s hand off his shoulders, standing up while still glaring at Hyunjin with clenched fists. 

“Say it.”

“Jisung-” warned Felix, but he was cut off by Seungmin.

“You’re a shit boyfriend, Jisung. We don’t need you hurting someone we’re friends with again.”

The room was silent as everyone now stared at Seungmin with wide eyes, startled at how blunt he was being. Jisung didn’t know what he was feeling as a flash of rage took over his body, but at the same time, he felt his heart drop hearing those words come out of his own friend’s mouth. It was now Hyunjin’s turn to butt in,

“Seungmin, stop-”

“No, he needs to hear it straight up. He fucking sucks and you all know I’m right. I’m tired of him acting like he isn’t the problem. Leave Y/N alone. They’re better off without you.”

Jisung felt hot tears well up in his eyes as he took in every one of Seungmin’s words, each casting daggers into his heart. His worst nightmares were coming true as he realized that it wasn’t just strangers and ex-lovers who viewed in such a negative light, but the people he trusted so much, his own friends, also thought the same of him. The fury laced in Seungmin’s voice cut Jisung deep as every syllable pushed him over the edge til Jisungfound himself falling into a pit of sadness and hurt, his stomach flipping onto itself on his way down.

Was he really that bad? Wait, no! How dare Seungmin say such a thing to him? What does Seungmin even know about Jisung’s past relationship? He was stepping out of line! The sadness instantly subsided, soon being replaced with a familiar feeling of denial and anger as Jisung stomped towards Seungmin, crouching down to meet him on the floor. Jisung sloppily grabbed Seungmin by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close to his face.

“What the fuck did you just say? Take it back right fucking now,” growled Jisung, venom dropping down from each word.

Seungmin rolled his eyes, pushing the drunken boy off him who stumbled backwards, “See, this right here is your problem. You can’t even begin to accept that you’re in the wrong.” Seungmin stood up, now looking down at Jisung who still hadn’t regained his balance. He took in an exasperated inhale, a subdued smile replacing the vexed look he just had as he softened his tone, “Look, Jisung. I love and care for you, but I cannot turn a blind eye and let you hurt someone else. I mean it. Leave them alone.” With that, Seungmin made his way to the stairs, wanting nothing more than to get away from Jisung at that moment before he said something he’d later regret.

Jisung remained seated on the floor as he was processing the words and emotions that were rushing in all at once, his drunken brain unsure how to handle all the information he was just fed. He laid his head into his hands as his brain echoed Seungmin’s words again and again. 

Jisung felt his breath get caught in his throat as he hiccuped a quiet sob, his body starting to tremble as the tears he was holding back for so long finally fell. His body collapsed onto itself as his heart stuttered in his chest, his lungs burning from the lack of air as he continued to inconsolably weep, struggling to breathe between his cries. 

Maybe he is as bad as everyone said he was.

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A few weeks had gone by since Jisung and Seungmin’s argument at the party, but the tension between the two boys didn’t last long as Seungmin showed up to Jisung’s apartment the very next day with a bowl of soup for his hangover and an apology, which Jisung graciously accepted, neither wanting to be upset at each other any longer. 

Despite that, the words Seungmin had said never left Jisung, leaving a permanent scar on his brain as he constantly recalled the moment. The words painfully rang through his ears as a ball of shame and misery formed in his stomach while he reminisced about his past relationships, trying to figure out what he did so wrong. 

Jisung felt horrible as he carried this weight of guilt on his shoulders as he wondered how his actions had hurt others and how he had remained oblivious for so long. All the insecurities and fears he had about himself were true at the end. Everyone around him was in agreement that he was the issue and he was the one behaving so selfishly in every relationship. He could understand that and he knew if his friend’s felt that way, it had to be the truth, but he was still struggling to identify what exactly about him and his behavior was so bad. 

Sure, he could reach out and ask his friends to help see what he was missing, but he was too afraid to face the reality of the situation, not ready to take another brutal beating of words. He was terrified to hear the truth, but he knew the same conclusion he came to long ago remained true. Love was just not for him, it didn’t want him the same way he did.

Everyone had taken note of Jisung’s downtrodden mood and thought he had just needed a few days to collect himself, but once everyone realized more time had passed and that he didn’t even have the will to attend a recording session with Chan and Changbin, everyone went into crisis mode. So, over the last few weeks, someone would show up to Jisung’s house to check in on him and either spend a few hours with him at home, or forcefully drag him out the house to spend time with the group, insisting it would help him feel better.

Each time someone had forced him out, he would be huffing and sulking like a grumpy toddler throwing a tantrum, but as soon as he got there, he would be as cheery as ever and would end the day feeling a lot better. He hated how right his friends were, but he was always thankful for every time they dragged him out despite his whiny and bratty attitude.

However, there was another mental battle Jisung was fighting that everyone was unaware of, or so he thought, and he was definitely not coming out of it as a winner. Unfortunately for Jisung, since the time you joined Minho’s dance team, you had hit it off so well with the rest of the group that you were there almost every time Jisung joined you guys on an outing. And each day he spent with you, he found himself falling more and more for you. 

He was really trying to stop himself, as he took Seungmin’s words to heart and imagined that sentiment was shared with everyone else, but this task was becoming an impossible one for Jisung to tackle!

It was weird. Every time he’d get invited out, Jisung would dread seeing you because he knew he was doomed to a hopeless, unrequited love with you, but if you weren’t there, he would be so disappointed and would find himself wanting to go home sooner. He wanted to stay as far away from you as possible, but something about you drew him in and he couldn’t resist and now here he is, finding himself in a friendship with you that he could not escape. 

It’s not that he didn't want to be friends with you, if anything he loved the friendship you two had grown in such a short time and how quickly he became fond of you. You were incredibly sweet to Jisung, constantly showing your consideration for him everyday in new ways. If he ever felt anxious or out of place, you were the first to take notice and offer to get him out of whatever stuffy social situation he was in and stay with him til he was ready to join the others again. If he had decided to stay in that day, you’d send him a message letting know he was missed and hoped to see him the next time. There was even a time where he was too sick to leave the house, and much to his surprise, he found you and Minho at his front door steps with food and medicine.

Somehow, unlike everyone else before you, you had shown him a special kind of unwavering kindness and didn’t judge him for his past. For the first time in years, he finally felt safe and unconditionally loved in a friendship that wasn’t one of the boys. That was enough for Jisung to know that you were someone he wanted to keep in his life for as long as possible, even if it meant he had to confront eventual heartbreak and only stay by your side as nothing more than a friend. 

But, that was okay. That was more than enough for him because as long as you were there, he would give you his all and support you endlessly. He would do anything to see you smile, anything to ensure your happiness, and if that meant he couldn’t be your lover, then that was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Besides, no one has ever been happy with him in a relationship. This was how it had to be, this is how he could protect you from himself.

Regardless of how Jisung felt towards you, he had seriously doubted you had any interest in him in the first place. How could someone as angelic as you want to be with, well, trash? There was no way you hadn’t heard about his disastrous dating history, and if you were as smart as he thought you were, that alone would turn you off from him. Not only that, he was pretty sure you had heard about the fight he had with Seungmin and if that fight said anything about him, it showed that he was a mess of insecurities and arrogance. Why on Earth would you ever like someone like that? And if you heard about the fight, he was positive that Seungmin and everyone else had warned you about him and dissuaded you from even considering anything romantic with him.

It was doomed! 

And although Jisung had earnestly vowed to himself he would not engage in anything romantic with you, he was failing miserably. His affection towards you was something everyone picked up on. He always, no matter what, had his undivided attention on you as you ranted to him about whatever bothered you that day or how you were struggling to nail a part of your dance routine. It was obvious. He loved hearing you talk and could listen to you for hours as if you were his own personal podcast, always mirroring your emotion and blindly agreeing with you during your rants, always asking you questions whenever you rambled on about your own hobbies and interests. 

If someone ever talked over you, he’d make sure to ask you what you were going to say. If you were upset that day, he’d always offer to buy you ice cream and insist to the group that they all needed to stop by the local ice cream shop. If you ever showed him a video of your latest dance routine, he’d shower you with a ridiculous amount of compliments until you were a flustered mess asking him to stop. And every time he noticed you were wearing a new outfit, changed your hair, or wore different jewelry, he would be quick to notice and let you know how wonderful you looked. He was shamelessly flirting with you, and he hadn’t even realized how far he had let it go. 

On the other side of the pond, you were well aware of every horrible thing that was said about Jisung, even long before you had become a member of Minho’s team, and to be quite frank, you thought he was a complete asshole from what you’ve heard. But once you realized that he was one of Minho’s lifelong best friends, you knew you had to push your personal feelings aside, especially when you realized some of the music Minho had you perform with was Jisung’s original work. You hated to admit it, but he was an absolute genius when it came to music production and you were slowly becoming a fan of his work. 

All you could tell yourself was that he couldn’t have been that bad if everyone was still his friend and reminded yourself people change, it’s not like you were going to end up liking the guy anyway. 

Oh, but you were so wrong. 

The first time you saw him at Minho’s party, you thought he was so irresistibly adorable during his drunken babbling, and you were honestly taken aback that the cute man who sat in front of you was none other than Han Jisung. Although, it did help soften your initial thoughts of him, making you think maybe he wasn’t that bad, especially after seeing him become a blushing mess at the mere sight of you, but those thoughts were quickly pushed away while Hyunjin walked you to your car after you left.

“Y/N…”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard about Jisung from other people, right?”

“Oh, I’ve heard plenty, but he doesn’t seem so bad though.”

“Well, he isn’t if you’re just friends with him, but… He definitely seemed into you when he saw you and as your friend, I feel like it is my responsibility to let you know that he isn’t someone you should pursue. I love him, but you deserve someone better than that… I would hate to see him hurt another one of my friends.”

“Ah, no worries, Hyunjin. I’ve made dumb dating choices in the past, but I’m not that stupid.”

Except, you were that stupid. So, so, so incredibly stupid and you were terrified that anyone would uncover your growing crush on the boy. You could already imagine both Hyunjin and Seungmin’s disappointed looks, and you promised yourself you were taking this little secret to the grave. You had every reason in the world to not be attracted to Jisung, especially after hearing how he put his hands on Seungmin during their argument! Drunk or not, there’s no excuse for that and his denial of his actions said so much about him.

Yet, here you are, sitting next to Jisung on the couch in the living room of Minho’s place, excitedly talking to him about the latest episode of the drama you were currently watching, gossiping to him as if the actors were real people you knew in your personal life. He sat on the couch with his legs crossed, facing you while nodding along to every word you said, his eyes trained on you and you alone.

“And-, oh my god, I almost forgot, but the lead then told her to shut up! Can you believe that?!”

Jisung would then gasp, theatrically putting his hand on his chest, “No fucking way… What is his problem?”

“Right! And then-,” you paused for a moment, suddenly feeling insecure that you were forcing Jisung to listen about something he probably didn’t care for. You sighed and gave him an apologetic smile as you anxiously twiddled your fingers, “I’m sorry, I got carried away, you probably don’t wanna listen to me talk about some stupid drama.”

This time, Jisung did look genuinely surprised as his eyebrows furrowed upward with panicked eyes, “What? No, I love hearing you talk about this, you’re always so excited that it’s adorable.” He hated how fast your mood changed and started to worry if he had done something to make you feel that way. Did he look uninterested? Was he not responsive enough? 

“Did I do something to make you think I didn’t want to listen?”

You felt your cheeks grow warm at Jisung calling you adorable, and then felt your heart start beating loudly in your chest when he asked you that question with all the concern and worry in the world filling his eyes. You shot straight up in your seat, returning his gaze with astonishment, not expecting him to be so considerate. “No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong… I just…” You paused for a moment, trying to find the words without revealing too much on how you were feeling, “I just got nervous for a moment, I don’t know.”

Jisung nodded as you spoke, taking your hands in his as he gave you a reassuring smile, “Y/N, I promise there’s nothing more I’d love than to hear you talk. You could be explaining the most boring thing ever, and I would still listen to you happily.”

In the kitchen stood Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Minho who were watching the scene unfold before them as they prepared food for everyone, while the others were upstairs playing whatever video game upstairs. Seungmin narrowed his eyes as he watched Jisung reach for your hands, taking note of the flustered look on your face.

“I think Y/N likes him.”

Hyunjin and Minho turned to Seungmin for a moment, then looked back at you and Jisung, unsure what exactly Seungmin saw other than Jisung’s flirtations. 

Hyunjin let out an annoyed exhale as he continued to fry the eggs on the pan, then muttering, “There’s no way that’s possible. Y/N knows better.”

“I don’t know. Just look at them, they act like there’s no one else in the room when they’re together,” whispered Seungmin.

“I guess,” murmured Hyunjin, clearly upset about Seungmin’s hunch, “This is going to end terribly, isn’t it?”

Minho silently stood as he separated the ramen noodles that were boiling in the pot, humming along as he listened to the two younger boys angrily whisper. “I think it will be okay. I think our Jisungie has learned his lessons.”

The other two looked at him with disbelief, neither believing Jisung was capable of ever growing from the immature mindset he had for as long as they’ve known him. Hyunjin scoffed, “No, you don’t really think that, do you?”

Minho kept his eyes on the stove as the other two stared down at the back of his head, shrugging his shoulders, “Well, I could be wrong, I can’t exactly predict the future, but…” He then glanced back at the couch, smiling as Jisung made you laugh, “He treats them differently. I don’t know why, but he does. Don’t you two think so?”

Seungmin and Hyunjin stayed silent, not being able to deny Minho’s statement because they fully knew he wasn’t wrong. Everyone knew something in Jisung had changed when he had met you, and everyone saw how gently he treated you, almost as if he was scared he could scare you away with one little misstep.

“Whatever, I still don’t trust him,” Hyunjin grumbled, putting the last of the eggs on a plate.

Minho chuckled at both of the boy’s protectiveness, “That’s okay, no one is forcing you to, but remember, they’re both adults. They can do what they want, no matter how stupid we all think it is.”

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈ 

Months had gone by and there was no denying the small romance that had flourished between you and Jisung. You both were hopelessly head-over-heels for the other, to the point that everyone around you two had grown sick of it and was praying for the day where one of you would finally confess your feelings to the other. 

You had long given up on hiding your feelings for the boy from your friends, especially after one day Seungmin had confronted you and told you it was the most obvious thing in the world. Part of you had prepared yourself for Seungmin to berate you for your poor taste in men, especially after the plethora of warnings you had been given about Jisung, but instead, he was very supportive and wanted you to feel comfortable enough to talk to him about it, even if he thought you could do better.

Jisung had become a part of your daily life, spending nearly everyday with each other or at the very least, you both had become accustomed to texting one another throughout the day. You’d start your day either sending or receiving a ‘good morning’ text from him and you’d end your day the same way, except it was a ‘good night’ text. 

You’d often pay him a visit at his studio on days he had lost track of time, always letting yourself in after he had given you the passcode to the door, which he had only given to you, Minho, Chan, and Changbin. It came to you as a surprise when he gave you the code to his studio, insisting that you needed it so you could drop in whenever you wanted, telling you that you were always a welcomed guest at his studio. In reality, Jisung just wanted an excuse to see you more, and you had taken the bait as you would often show up with an iced americano in hand and whatever takeout food you were in the mood for that day.

If you ever had a long day of dance practice, Jisung would make sure to stop by to drop off a snack and drink as well, often receiving complaints from Minho over his blatant favoritism, accusing him of neglecting his best friend, which would cause Jisung to grow red from embarrassment. Despite his relentless teasing, Minho was more than proud to see how much Jisung had grown and how naturally caring for you had come to him. It was a side of Jisung no one had ever seen, and it was a very much welcomed change.

Today, you were sitting on the couch at Jisung’s apartment as he washed the dishes from the dinner you both had attempted to make, humming along as he put them in the drying rack. For some reason, you and Jisung had thought it would be a great idea to recreate a steak dish you both saw online and while it did not go terribly, the steaks ended up being a little too burnt for either of your liking. You were a bit disappointed, part of you feeling embarrassed you couldn’t even cook a proper meal in front of your crush, but he had lifted your spirits up by telling you it was an ‘excellent culinary choice’ to serve the steaks charred, shushing you each time you said the word burnt. 

Soon after, he took a seat next to you on the couch, flicking through the TV as he tried to find something to watch, but soon gave up as he turned to you, “Is there anything you wanna watch?” 

You scrunch up your face as you take a few seconds to think, clapping your hands excitedly once the idea hits you, “Have you ever watched Love is Blind? It’s kinda a dumb reality show, but I still haven’t seen the new season and it’s always a fun watch!”

Jisung furrowed his eyebrows quizzically, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy, “Love is Blind? I’ve never heard of it, what's it about?”

“Never heard of it!? No way!” You gasped, a hand clasping over your mouth dramatically as he smiled adoringly at your antics, “It’s such a crazy show! Basically, a bunch of singles are trying to find the love of their lives, but they’re meeting people without ever seeing what they look like!”

“Oh, so they only get to talk to each other?”

“Yeah! And then they have to get engaged, and once that happens, they can finally meet face to face. They’re supposed to get married at the end of the series, but there’s always juicy drama going on before then!”

Jisung hummed, taking interest in the show's concept, “That’s cool, so they’re trying to see if love is truly blind?”

“Exactly!” You chirped, nodding with enthusiasm as you beamed at Jisung, waiting for his response.

“Sure, let’s watch it!” How could he ever say no to you when you’re smiling at him that way? He swore he felt his heart flutter the moment you smiled at him, the jubilation in your eyes making him become putty in your hands. “Do you really believe in that though? Like, unconditional love?”

You turned to him as you grabbed the remote from his hands, a bit taken aback from his question, “Well, I’ve already seen the other seasons and some couples have definitely proven that love can be blind, but love differs for everyone. I think that’s the beauty of this show though, loving someone despite their flaws and loving them for who they truly are.”

He leaned back on the couch, returning your gaze as he lost himself deep in thought, “Right, but do you think you could love someone unconditionally? Even if they’ve made mistakes in the past?”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to understand where Jisung was coming from, a gentle smile gracing your features as you reached a comforting hand over his wrist, “Well, as long as those past mistakes aren’t murder or something, I don’t see why not. I’d like to think people are able to grow from their past.”

Jisung smiled as he sighed in relief, his other hand resting on top of yours, “Even me?”

“Especially you.” 

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈ 

It was a quiet and cold night as you curled up into Jisung’s side, your head resting on his chest with a leg thrown over his as his arms swaddled you into a tight embrace. It was peaceful and serene, the only sounds filling the room was the light pitter patter of rain against his bedroom window and the comforting beat of his heart. You tilted your head upwards and caught Jisung’s gaze, a relaxed smile on his face as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, but you could’ve sworn you saw a glimmer of sadness in his eyes.

To be quite honest, you weren’t entirely sure what you and Jisung were, as neither of you had ever officially discussed labels, but you both were very aware of each other’s feelings for one another. There was no doubt that you both were more than just friends, but the label of partners or dating was something Jisung nervously tiptoed around. 

After a few weeks of these shared tender moments, you figured Jisung would soon ask you to be his, but the question never came and it filled you with nervousness. You didn’t want to pressure him, as you could sympathize with his concerns since he was very transparent with you about his hesitance from the very start.

Jisung was irrevocably in love with you and wanted nothing more than to make you his partner, but he would be lying to you if he wasn’t also terrified of the weight of that label. For so long, Jisung had convinced himself he was incapable of loving someone the way they deserved to be and never thought anyone would have ever fallen for him, especially someone as perfect as you. Perhaps it was your sheer kindness and undying belief in him, but he felt like a complete fraud, as if you had imagined him to be this amazing man that he could never be and has never been. He wasn’t ready to fall short of your expectations, he wasn’t ready to face the disappointed and heartbroken look on your face once you realized the rumors about him were complete truth.

He felt as if he was truly undeserving of someone as pure as you, someone so selfless and caring who approached their own feelings with so much confidence, while he was just a shamefully selfish man who didn’t know how to trust himself, who didn’t believe in his own ability to make his own partner happy, a man who was painfully insecure and unsure of who he was.

He wanted you with every fiber of his being and desperately wanted to be the very reason behind your smiles, laughter, and happiness. He so greedily desired to see his own reflection in your eyes for the rest of his life, a sight that he wanted to treasure for the rest of life and the thought of you looking at someone else that way physically pained him.

Yet, his fear of hurting you and disappointing everyone else around him held him back from chasing those feelings and Seungmin’s words from months ago ruminated in his mind as a constant reminder of his past failures. He would not be able to shoulder the burden of hurting you, the guilt would completely eat him up because at the end of the day, it would be his fault for fooling you into the idea that he was capable of giving you that movie perfect love story. For crying out loud, he’s Han Jisung, the guy everyone hated and criticized for his ineptitude of romantic relations. He knew what you wanted, he knew you were growing impatient and scared over his inaction, but his anxieties held him captive in a standstill, and he was not strong enough to challenge it.

All he could tell you was that he needed more time, that he was afraid and needed the chance to grow that confidence in himself once more, but he knew time was finite and he was running out of it. 

As he kissed your forehead, he felt his heart flinch as a pang of sadness flooded his body, forcefully fighting the overwhelming adoration and affection he had for you. He was petrified at the way his body slowly began to reject the feelings of love he had for you, fear and insecurities consuming it as if everything you had to offer nothing. All rational thinking had left him in that moment as panic took over his thoughts, angrily yelling at him for being such an idiot to think anything would ever change. How stupid he was to lead on another innocent person and how he was only going to hurt them, just like all the others before him. How idiotic he was for thinking he was ever deserving of love, as love does not wish to know him. 

He just couldn’t be your love.

God, if he wasn’t such a selfish asshole, maybe then he could’ve saved you from his own carelessness. If he had only heeded the warnings of his friends, but once again, he has fallen into the trap of self-centered needs outweighing the feelings of others. If he had only stayed your friend and nothing more, if he had only not-

“Y/N, I don’t think this is going to work.”

Did he really say that out loud? He held his breath as he cursed himself for acting so quickly out of fear, his heart stopped as he watched you stiffen in his own arm. You silently sat yourself up, his arms falling to the mattress as you turned to him with tears filling your eyes, your lips trembling as you tried to contain a sob.

Oh, how Jisung just wished the world would swallow him whole in that moment, his heart completely shattering at the sight of your crestfallen face. He looked into your watery eyes to only realize that this time, the reflection of your eyes showed the source of your sorrow, an expression he had wished he never had the misfortune to witness. 

“I… I’m sorry, I just-”

You shook your head, raising a hand to signal him to stop talking, refusing to take an explanation from him, “It’s okay. I was afraid this would happen.”

You forced a tightlipped smile, taking a deep breath through your nose as you tried to keep yourself together, faintly whispering a broken “Please don’t text or call me.”

Jisung shot up as he watched you get up from his bed, trying to scramble after you as you made your way to his front door, grabbing your belongings on the way. He didn’t realize how much he was already crying until he tried to speak to you, but it all came out in a blubbering sob. “Y/N, please, listen to me…” He begged you to listen to him, pleaded for you to try to understand where this was all coming from and to understand that he still loved you so much despite how selfish his actions are, yet you never gave him a chance.

“Jisung, please. I don’t care why, I don’t want to know,” you croaked between sobs, doing your best to maintain your composure as you faced the front door, refusing to look at him. “I just feel like an idiot. I should’ve listened to what people said about you.”

There you went, leaving his apartment and shutting the door in his face with force, leaving Jisung to confront nothing, but his own cowardice. 

Once again, Jisung fell into the trap of his own self-centered thinking, getting lost in his own immaturity as he became the victim of the circumstances he created. If he had only realized that he wasn't alone in this battle of his own conscience, if he had only realized you would've fought each insecurity and fear with him.

Oh, woe is me, Han Jisung. Only a fool would be afraid of love.

[ellaa-writes]

The Bëast Within

author note: Part 5! Ok this is the last part till I'm back in November. Will be gone from October 21st till November 18th. I'm getting married and then going on my honeymoon. So enjoy! I'll be working on other parts while I'm away. :) you can find the rest of the series here.

summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.

tags: Alternative Universe, female reader. Slight smut. Reader edges König into an apology. Slightly submissive König (but don't tell him that.) A/b/o dynamics. Alpha König is big and scary but not to reader. not proof read

König showed his love through acts of kindness and gifts. He felt bad for smashing your phone, and also as you put it "ruined your life". But he knows your just being dramatic, he spent two full days sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms. You didn't leave the master bedroom, only opening the door after König pleaded with you to eat something.

That's why he's currently inside a jewelry store, trying to pick out a gift that says I'm very sorry but I also don't regret doing what I did. The sales person becoming annoyed cause he can not make up his mind so decided to buy all 3, a matching set.

The second day barricaded in the room, you spent most of the time crying in your nest and enjoying the deep soaker tub. König brought you lunch, and also your new phone.

Discarding the food on the dresser you laid in the nest, setting up your phone. Waiting for the thousands of notifications to pop up.

You immediately called Kalina, you missed her voice and knew she's probably in a panic. The phone only rang once before it was picked up. "Please tell me you're alive." you heard her panicked voice on the other line.

"I'm alive." you replied back. "What the fuck is going on?" she all but screamed your name. "It's a complicated story." you tried to explain but she cut you off. "Are you safe, do you need me to call the police? Maybe the military? Who do I need to kill." she was rambling so fast you could barely make out what she was saying.

"Kalina! Hey Kalina! Calm down will you. I'm fine. I'm alright. I don't need any of that." you were finally able to but in. "I went to your apartment and you were gone, like all of it." she explained. Remembering König's actions, rubbing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. "Ugh I know." you didn't know where to start. "It's been a week! A week of no call, no show, no nothing. And Mr. Wojack said you quit? What the hell is going on?" her voice getting higher and higher with each word.

"If you'd shut up I'll explain. It started that night at the club." you started. "We should have never gone." Kalina but in. "Kalina! Please!" you pleaded with her to shut up. "Sorry, sorry!" shaking your head. "Their was a guy there, an Alpha. I guess he sniffed me out, idk how the hell he knew but he followed me home. I woke up to him in my room, and..... and he marked me. That night, and I've been at his place ever since. He helped me through my heat....I think we are mated now." you explained.

The other end was finally quiet, thinking the call dropped until you heard Kalina'a deep sigh." I knew, I knew he would try. I just hoped I got you out of there fast enough." she said, you were confused? She knew? "What do you mean you knew?" you asked. "Don't you remember me pulling you out of the club? Throwing you in that cab?" she asked. It took you a while to thinking back in it, and then I made sense.

She saw him too, just like you did. "You saw him?" you whispered. "It was hard not to." her voice trailing off. You heard a knock on the door, probably König again. "Kalina I gotta go. I call you back later." you told her. Hanging up before she could protest. Leaving your phone on the charger near the bed.

Walking to the door you could see König's shadow underneath. Another knock came "Omega, please let me see you." he pleaded through the wood. If he really wanted to he could break it down, and he was tempted. Since getting a taste of your omega pussy it's all his dick and brain could think about.

"Why should I? So you can lie to me again." you were being a brat but you deserved it. In less than a week you had your home, job and life taken from you. But you also knew your situation could be much worse.

König sighed, he was going to lose his mind if you kept up this act. He had every right mind to knock this door down and make you forgive him. Even when he didn't believe he needed to be forgiven. In the law he had every right to do what he did. Once an omega is claimed she loses all her freedoms and rights. As she now belongs to her Alpha who is responsible in taking care of her. And if he's unfit of that, then the courts step in and interviene. But you were an undocumented Omega and he was a dead excommunicated Alpha.

Slamming his fist against the thick wood, he rolled his neck to try and relieve the tension that's been bothering him. "Please my love, I got you something." in König's other hand held the name brand bag of the jeweler he visited.

Unbeknownst to him, you had been scheming. Spending your time locked in this room, snooping around. Taking out his military uniform and laying it out on the bed. Also finding a few medals that where also stashed away in the closet.

"I'll let you in if you answer some of my questions." Königs ears perked up, what was this? A terrorist negotiation? But the thought of being in your presence, he didn't care. "Whatever you want Omega." his words making you laugh, of course you'll give me what I want, you thought.

König heard the door click, you unlocking the bolt that secured it close. Opening it a bit before stepping away to sit on the bed next to your findings.

König wasted no time in barging right in, about to open his mouth but closing it immediately when he saw his uniform next to you. "What is this?"he asked. His voice getting deep and low, his instincts heightening. He wasn't an animal you wanted to corner and confront but that's exactly what you did.

"That's my question. And I don't want to hear anything from you that isn't a one word answer or anything that's not the truth. You understand?" you fingers ran along the delicate stitching, tracing it slowly. König didn't like any of this.

"If you aren't going to answer me, you can just leave. And take that with you." you pointed to the bag he was holding. He sighed, setting the bag down on the dresser. Leaning against it, he was feared far and wide. The stories men told about him, yet here you are. Standing up to him, and not backing down. The Beast was proud, laughing loudly in König's head. Mocking him for not being able to control you. But that's not what he wanted, he didn't want to control you he just wanted to make you happy. And right now you were not and it was his fault.

Slowly you were wearing him down, his dick hard and throbbing in his pants. Begging and pleading with him to do whatever you wanted just so it can feel you wrapped around it again.

"I served in the Austrian Special Forces, but things came up and now I'm here." hoping his answer sated you. He crossed his arms staring at you, dragging his eyes up and down your body. "Why did you leave?" you asked. Curious about the Alpha in front of you, his aura was dark and mysterious. "It no longer served a purpose in my life. I... uh I do different work now. Similar but different. That's all you need to know." König was trying his best to answer you but to also keep you safe from his world.

You sighed "König you said you'd tell me anything I wanted." you eyed the giant Alpha in front of you. The sight of him alone making you want to heel over and crawl to him. But it was just your horny omega brain. "I am Omega, there's things you wouldn't understand. I'll do anything to keep you safe." König was growing more frustrated. Pushing himself off of the dresser and making his way to you. Getting down on his knees and placing his head in your lap.

"I'm trying to keep you safe and protected. Don't you understand." he looked up into your eyes. His eyes pleading with you, his bottom lip sticking out. "Than say your sorry." you told him. Lightly brushing your hand through his hair. You slightly started to part you thighs, revealing a silky pair of panties under the dress you were wearing.

Königs ears began to ring, his mouth becoming wet with anticipation. If he was a youngling he'd might even start foaming. The smell of your wet Omega pussy hit his nose, a low growl starting deep in his belly. He tried to push your dress up more but was received with a smack. Knocking his prying hands away, he hated when you did that.

Nobody he knew would dare raise a finger at him and since knowing you, that seemed like your favourite thing to do.

"No." you scolded him like a juvenile pup. "Not until you say you are sorry." he heard your words but his mind and eyes couldn't leave the sight of your pussy. The fabric of the silky panties hugged you lips, a small wet spot slowly forming. König knew from that moment on you were going to be the death of him.

Only if one of his men could see him, if one of the many people he's snuffed out could look upon him from hell. To see this feared Alpha on his knees, drooling at the sight of sweet omega pussy. They would laugh, they would mock him. Just like The Beast was doing now, his laughter louder than anything.

König licked his lips and closed his eyes. Taking a moment to clear his mind, too shut up The Beast and to try and not cum in his pants.

"Omega, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I'll never do anything and I mean anything without your approval." he was a starved man, if you told him to walk into fire he would. "Omega I promise to serve and worship you till the end of mine time." he didn't know what else he could say.

You smiled, your eyes turning bright at the words your Alpha was saying. Your heart skipped a beat and your pussy gushed with more fluid. Pushing up your dress a little and tilting your pelvis till it was in König's face.

"I forgive you." you said. You hands tangling themselves in his hair once again. König mouth attached its self to your clothed pussy. Sucking on the wet spot, trying to ripping through the material with his teeth.

Trying once again to touch you with his hands but only stopped when you smacked them again. He really hated that. "No, just your mouth. And be a good boy and I'll let you fuck me." you told him. Spreading you legs open even more, resting you left leg over his shoulder.

Yes, you were going to kill him. But he didn't care, as long as he died by your pussy he didn't care at all.

Tag list: @plumdreadful @traumaramacenter @kaylp-godly @napalmfairy7 @hisa-plush @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @winters-doll @joyfulfxckery @purebeskar @collete25 @fandomsinthegalaxies @xo-konigs-little-princess-xo @jamieelol @luc1ddreamersatnight @cringeycookies (Tumblr won't let me tag some of you.)

[luvvictoria]

“…Something more “

( ♡ ) pairing : True Form!Sukuna x fem!Goddess!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, idk

( ♡ ) a/n ✏️ : I was rewatching Naruto Shippunden and Kaguya is my damn favorite Goddess 🙏🏽 and I began to think about making a Sukuna x reader who is like Kaguya so here it is 😋

Much like Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, you possess an ethereal and otherworldly beauty. Your long, flowing [color] hair cascades down your back, shining like moonlight. Your eyes, pearlescent and timeless, hold a serene yet terrifying calm. They give off an unsettling sense of omnipotence, as though you can see into the very soul of anyone who dares to meet your gaze.

You are tall and regal, often adorned in flowing, intricately designed robes that enhance your goddess-like aura. Your beauty is not just physical but seems to embody an ancient, celestial force that makes you feel unreachable, untouchable.

Like Kaguya, your abilities far exceed normal comprehension. You can manipulate dimensions at will, travel between realms, and control chakra or an equivalent form of cursed energy with terrifying precision. Your attacks are vast and destructive, capable of wiping out entire regions with a mere thought.

You command nature, reality, and time itself. To those who encounter you, you are seen as a deity — your power so immense that even the strongest beings, including Sukuna, cannot take you lightly.

You maintain an air of calm detachment, viewing the world and its inhabitants as transient and insignificant compared to your own eternal existence. You are patient, silent, and observe from a distance rather than engage unless absolutely necessary.

Emotions are a foreign concept to you, something you observe but have never truly experienced for yourself. You are calculating, logical, and always think several steps ahead, considering everything from a higher perspective.

While you appear cold and aloof, there is a quiet loneliness deep within you. Being so powerful, so eternal, has left you disconnected from the world and the people in it. There is a longing within you to understand and perhaps experience the warmth that mortals cling to.

Sukuna is drawn to you in ways he can’t quite explain. You are the only person he has encountered who seems genuinely indifferent to his power and status. In fact, your strength easily matches or even surpasses his, and he respects that — though he’d never admit it aloud.

He’s constantly trying to provoke reactions from you, fascinated by your stoic demeanor. Whether through battle or teasing, Sukuna finds it maddening yet exhilarating that you don’t bend to him like others. He’s used to people fearing or admiring him, but you do neither, which piques his interest further.

Over time, Sukuna finds himself not just interested in your power but in you as a being. The mystery of who you are and why you remain so detached makes him want to break through your barriers, to make you feel something, anything, for him.

Over time, you and Sukuna begin to understand one another on a deeper level. Both of you are beings of immense strength, isolated by your power, and feared by those around you. This isolation forms an unspoken bond between you. You each recognize that the other is different — set apart from the world.

Sukuna is fascinated by your calmness and the way you handle yourself in battle, unphased by destruction. You, on the other hand, are intrigued by Sukuna’s chaotic nature, his brashness, and his ability to feel so deeply despite being feared and revered.

The sky above was painted in the colors of dusk, deep oranges fading into inky purples. You stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing out at the vast landscape beneath you. The wind whispered through your [color] hair, and your pale eyes reflected the serene indifference you felt toward the world. Time, space, life — they were all fleeting.

But there was something — someone — who disrupted that peace.

You felt his presence long before he spoke. Sukuna’s cursed energy was unmistakable, like a shadow that blotted out the light. He approached with his usual swagger, a cocky grin plastered on his face, yet you didn’t turn to face him.

“Staring at the horizon again? You look like you’re waiting for the world to end,” Sukuna teased, standing beside you now. His crimson eyes gleamed as he studied you. Even in moments of silence, there was something about you that captivated him.

You didn’t respond, your eyes still fixed on the horizon, calm and distant.

He hated that indifference. Not because it irritated him, but because it fascinated him. Sukuna was used to reactions — fear, admiration, anger — but with you, there was nothing. You were like a statue carved from the stars, untouchable and beyond mortal understanding.

“I’ve fought countless battles, seen men and gods alike tremble before me. But you… you don’t care about any of it, do you?” His voice was lower now, more serious than usual.

“No,” you finally said, your voice soft but carrying the weight of eternity. “Why should I care for fleeting things?”

Sukuna’s grin widened. “And yet you let me come here. Again and again. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were beginning to care.”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze for the first time that evening. “You are… different from the others.”

It wasn’t much, but coming from you, it was a revelation. Sukuna felt a flicker of something in his chest—something more than his usual lust for power or destruction. It was fleeting, like the brush of wind, but it was there.

He reached out, his fingers brushing a lock of your hair. “Then what am I to you?”

You didn’t pull away from his touch. For the first time in centuries, you found yourself curious. Not about power, or strength, or the endless void of time, but about him.

“You are… something more.”

Sukuna’s grin faltered for a moment as he took in your words. He hadn’t expected that. For the first time, the great Ryomen Sukuna was caught off guard, and he found himself wanting more of this feeling, this connection with you.

And so, under the fading light of the setting sun, two beings, both feared and revered, found in each other something rare — a connection that transcended their power and their isolation.

[viviswtings]

Alcohol wet.

So I've just been drawing Neteyam like the simp I am, and it's going great. He's inspiring me so much I got to write a whole thing for him.

Words: 2627.

Warnings: suggestive fluff? Is that a thing? Also not proof-read. Just finished and posted. English isn't my first language and there are words I'm iffy about all over. Tell me if something doesn't make sense.

The characters are aged up. Like, in their twenties sort of aged up. Don't come after me. Or do. Idk.

“Shit, you’re beautiful “

He exhaled against her face, his breath smelling of the sweet, fruity liquor he had been sipping all night.

Up until this point he had been slurring his words, letting them fall off his purple stained lips, all buttery and soft- his speech, that is- without seemingly any care for if she could understand them or not.

But this. This he said clearly. Like a cloudless day, after a particularly dark eclipse. She understood every single word, and she was exhilarated when she did.

How sweet his voice came out, how his plushy, swollen lips had caressed every word like he knew exactly what place in her heart they were meant to fit into. Taking that little space she had once made for him and making it bigger and bigger, so all her feelings may fit within her chest.

He was staring at her from up close, his nose almost touching hers. Those big, golden eyes that let her see her own reflection in the dilated pupil. She hoped he meant it, that, in his eyes, she truly was beautiful.

But alcohol did its thing as the warrior pursed hisr lips and got closer. She turned her head as quickly as she realized, for she had reacted too slowly, having been immersed in his gaze and almost gotten lost in it.

The peck on her cheek was wet, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the distressed sound off Neteyam’s chest once he figured he had failed his attempt. Leaning back to look at him, it was impossible not to smile.

His face was turned towards the ground, while his stare remained on her, brow furrowed and lips pouted. His ears, now flushing almost pink, laid tense flat against his braided hair, all the muscles in his body were tense as his tail flicked from side to side behind him. It was comical. The great, mighty warrior Neteyam te Suli was butthurt. Because she had denied him a kiss.

Maybe it was right at this very moment that a part of her mind, in the furthest back off it, has come to understand she had some power over him. But perhaps she didn’t, and it was all the liquor’s fault, for it had made her delusional.

Seconds in silence had passed, which, given the previous circumstances, was unusual. The young warrior had started bragging about all his feats as soon as the alcohol had settled in. Talking nonsense about how his father barely had to teach him anything, how he was a natural, fishing when he was still using a children’s bow, being the youngest hunter to make his first kill and finishing his ikniyama at the ripe age of just thirteen years old. He almost made her ears fall off, but she did have a special soft spot for him and his slurred, rhythmic and almost-purr like nonsense. So, she had listened attentively all the same.

“Do you not want me?” Was the first thing that left his lips after his failed strategy. She did not expect the look of doubt carved into his features. Like his worst nightmare had become true, like he was… afraid.

Her heart skipped various beats that made her throat close, so no words could come out. She couldn’t flat out reject him just because he was drunk, but saying she did-and oh, she did want him- would risk him not remembering the next morning. Even worse, he could regret it, stop talking to her altogether and leave her with the hope of finally fulfilling her one wish.

It could also escalate and she was not about to take advantage of a drunken man twice her size.

“Nete” Her voice came out as an exhale, like she had been holding her breath all along. “You… ask me tomorrow” Was her final answer, hushed, but with a bit more confidence. If he didn’t ask, she could just presume he didn’t remember and not risk her own heart being shattered.

His ears twitched, his tail stopped, and he got closer again, to which she retreated, trying to avert his eyes. What would happen if she even dared to look back at him? It scared her, so she didn’t.

Then the rough skin of his fingertips came in contact with her forearms, making the hairs on the back of her head rise up and her body tense even more.

“I will” He pressed another kiss to her cheek, a little bit further away from the corner of her mouth, much softer and velvety and leaving no trace of wetness. At least, not on her cheek.

“Alright” She muttered, barely above a whisper, much too afraid of the people around them finding out the oloe’ytakan talking in such an intimate way with her. Both of his hands on her, caressing the skin of her knuckles with his thumb while he kept hold of her forearm, as if to keep her close, to not let her distance herself too much.

He had been resting his chin on her shoulder, face almost cradled in the hollow of her neck, when he was rudely interrupted by a deep, guttural grunt he knew all too well. It would’ve had him standing straight and knocking the air off him in any other situation. But Neteyam was way too comfortable, skin all warm, hands busy and mind fuzzy with the sweetest smell.

Then he felt a hand around his neck, the woman almost under him getting impossibly straight and tense when she pulled her arms away from him. Breath tickled his ear, making him uncomfortable. “Up, boy. Don’t make me repeat myself”.

So he did. All his body screamed against it, but Neteyam got up, not looking down, unable to see the flustered girl he had left on the ground, fidgeting with her tail and head low in shame. He would’ve sobered up in a second if he had. Or so he’d most likely want to believe.

But the older man did see her. As a matter of fact, he always saw her, he did see all of the members of the clan, old or young, gatherer or warrior, it was his duty. He took pride in it. He loved his people.

But that girl, ever since she arrived, she had his eldest running around like a headless chicken. He wasn’t blind, nor a fool, the kid was sweet and very pretty indeed. That, and he knew better than to meddle with young passions, given his own record. His son had crossed a line, though. As he himself had witnessed his son make a fool of himself all night.

“C’mere, sweetheart” He offered his hand to the girl, smiling her way when she looked up at him. “How about we walk you home and I’ll take care of this one for the night”.

She smiled back, taking the five-fingered hand with her own, to which Jake pulled her up, ready in case he had to help her with her balance. But she did just fine, maybe a bit wobbly on her feet, but not a major inconvenience.

The walk to her hut was almost silent, with Neteyam’s head hanging low, too immersed in his own thoughts to even mind his step. If he didn’t know the paths of High Camp like the back of his hand, he might have found it really difficult to find his footing.

Jake only ever broke the silence with politeness, asking how they were doing- to which his son only grumbled-, and making small talk with the girl. He knew her just enough to know what to ask and keep the light smile with jokes as long as the small walk lasted. If he could make his girls laugh, this one shouldn’t have been too much different. Thankfully, he was right.

Once they got to their destination, he stepped back, leaving way for his son so he may have his privacy.

Neteyam knew he should thank his father for the chance, but forgot all about it once he had to put two words together.

“I will ask” He repeated, lowering his eyes to meet her own. He had thought about what he should say all the way there, yet he found himself dumbfounded, incapable of remembering a single thing.

“Alright” She answered back, just as she did before, hands clasping in front of her, knuckles a yellowish shade of green as she gripped onto her own fingers, her nails drawing recent shapes on her palm.

“You will accept” He sounded far more confident than his beating heart would’ve ever let her know. But this surge of confidence lasted long enough for him to hold her hands in his, so she wouldn’t hurt herself anymore. “Then I’ll have you, as you have me”.

She was choking on thin air. The way he was staring her down, brow stern and lips sealed tightly into a line, while making those statements as if he already knew. As if he was laying his head against her chest and hearing her breath catch and her heart beating furiously against her ribs. Like it was the only possible, reasonable outcome.

She had him? Never in her life had she dared to bluff such nonsense. While every young woman almost paraded around him: the nicest singers, the prettiest dancers, the most skilled healers… Every single woman with the least bit of status within High Camp took the slightest chance to be near him. She simply existed, not particularly away from him, but afraid to get so close it would end up hurting her.

Why wouldn’t they? She may laugh at her “mighty warrior” comments, but she knew they were true. He was mighty, and as tall as he was slim, agile and strong. His hair was thick and his hands looked almost heavenly when he put it up for hunting parties, his long neck and the line of his shoulders in display while the muscles in his back flexed, almost knocking the air out of her lungs.

Just as he did now. Luminous freckles making a soft path around his features, down his nose and over his cupid’s bow. He felt so soft pressed to her skin it made her tail move behind her nervously and her loins burn.

“Can I kiss you?”

He had gotten closer to her face once against, big eyes open in question, as he now held her by her arms, pulling her just a tad bit closer as he waited for an answer. If his father had heard him, he didn’t show. He cut her short before she could attempt to answer. “Not your lips”. The remark caught her off guard, but she didn’t know how to mind while he kept his beautiful, gleaming irises on her, like an expecting child asking to go play.

So, she nodded, in fear her words would fail her. Pushing far the thought of the man’s father being mere feet away. How could she deny him? Was she even supposed to? She did want him to kiss her, even though it felt wrong, knowing he was under the effects of the drink he had been having. A kiss it’s just a kiss, isn’t it? It only has the meaning you want to grant it.

All her facade fell precariously as Neteyam’s hands caressed her arms, heavy and warm, up to her shoulders, making her shiver as they made their home on her neck and held her jaw with his thumbs. Keeping her right where he wanted.

He kissed her left cheek, slowly, without making a noise, and she felt his eyelashes against her burning skin. When he went to the other cheek, she saw his eyes closing softly, as he pulled her closer by her neck. She let herself go, closing her own while his lips kissed her. As he looked at her again, she found her own hands clasping around his arms and a smile on his face. He kissed the bridge of her nose, letting out an amused huff.

His fingers made way into her hair, massaging her scalp, when she felt them lightly touch the base of her queue. Her whole body arched involuntarily into his, making her eyes close with her lips parted as he kissed her one last time in the middle of her forehead.

She looked delectable and Neteyam felt famished. Like a starved man, just torturing himself with the meal he could not have, as it wasn’t his for the taking.

He hadn’t meant to hold her like that, but the hazy look on her face had him in a chokehold and he couldn’t help himself. By the time he felt her queue against his fingers he knew he was utterly fucked. The way she molded against him, throwing her head back while she held onto him like a lifeline, her tail caressing his thigh absent-mindedly, just letting herself go in his arms like that. How was he to keep himself away from her, his father here or not. It was only her word holding him back from devouring her whole, just as she was right now.

He knew better than to approach a woman when she had drunk, but he also knew better than to drink himself stupid and there he was. If it wasn’t because he was holding onto her as much as she was onto him, he’d probably be face first on the dirt.

“Neteyam.” What a damn beautiful sound she had just made. He opened his eyes, pulling himself with all his might so he could look at her. “You should head home”. Home? Where was that place again? He’d rather not remember the way back and stay the night. But she wouldn’t have him, not then. “Your father is waiting”.

“Damn him.”  He thought out loud. “He can wait”.

She let out the giddiest of laughs and his heart could explode for all he cared.

“We can talk tomorrow”. He already knew. But right in that moment he felt nauseous at the thought of parting. Might as well hold onto her like a child so she’d coo him to sleep and calm all his worries.

“We will.” He remarked, kissing her forehead again.

“I know”. She ushered. “So go and sleep, so tomorrow may come sooner.”

Neteyam looked at her, like he had done so many times. At her pleasing features and her dimpled smile that reached her eyes. The Great Mother had made her all for him, he had no doubt. She couldn’t have made the most precious creature just to rip it away from him. She’d accept him, take him for herself and he’d be the happiest man.

But, of course, he couldn’t drag the whole affair forever. His father was, indeed, waiting for him and his patience was running thin. “Kid, c’mon. You need a nap.”

So, he hugged her, tightly, so close to him she would feel his heart against hers. He needed a home for it inside her, he reasoned, that’s why it yearned for her so much.

When he let go, she felt shaky. Her pupils inspected his face, but she let go rather easily. Her parted mouth was screaming for him, but he couldn’t drag the affair any longer, so he let her go. His hands fell on his sides in fists and he turned around, with a willpower only years under his father’s stern stare could accomplish.

He felt the man’s hand on his back, cold and somehow soothing against the burning skin of his shoulders. Like a kid, he let his father’s presence reassure him, he’d be fine. Even if it meant another night tossing and turning thinking of her, and now the very real prospect of her skin against his and her lips on his, her legs around his waist…

“Let’s get you home, kid”.

He definitely had to get home.

[yelenasdiary]

hi!!

with this new yelena content, i have a "sort of" request??

i mean, i have like a phrase that buzzes in my head, a phrase that if it were said to Yelena the entire fandom would break down in pain.

so, the quote is this: "i want to be able to worry about you"

it is possible, even in the future, to have a fanfiction or even a short one shot with yelena x r, and r says this to Yelena?

the context of why that phrase is said I would leave up to you to decide :)

(or maybe all this only makes sense in my head, idk lol)

Drunken Sober Thoughts

Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader.

Summary: When Kate's birthday party comes to an end, you and Yelena find yourselves alone.

Angst, Fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, Mentions of death, Reader has dark thoughts. This is not proof read or corrected | 0.8K

AC: I loved this idea, I hope you enjoy it! x

Red and blue plastic cups littered the rooftop of Kate's studio apartment, the young Avenger had just celebrated her 24th birthday and threw a little party with her closest friends. Kate has been one of your closest friends since you recruited her to the team, and although you were a few years older than her, you've seen her more as a little sister than anything else. 

She introduced you to Yelena shortly after she had joined the new Avengers team, you already had some kind of background on Yelena from Clint but the two of you seemed to grow close quickly. 

"What's going on inside of the big, smart brain of yours?" Yelena's accent brought your thoughts back to reality as she took a seat down next to you, the two of you now looking over the city of New York. You took a sip of your drink and smiled softly, "nothing new" you replied. 

Your comment made Yelena frown, "come on, you talk to me" she said, placing her red cup beside her. "You've been a little distant recently and I know you don't like to worry Kate but she's worried too" the blonde added. You couldn't help but sigh to yourself. "You don't have to worry about me, nor does Kate" you replied before taking another sip of your drink.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Yelena spoke again, "you know, you remind a lot of Natasha sometimes" she said, looking over at you. 

"Natasha was a very smart and respected woman" you replied, looking back at her. 

"Yes, but she too was closed off. Although I only got to spend a little time with her, she was happy. You gave her a family when she needed one and now your family has retired but you haven't?" Yelena questioned, "why not?" she added. 

You shrugged, "I guess, outside of being an Avenger, I have nothing. An empty home, nothing to keep my mind from replaying everything that ever happened in my life plus, Kate keeps me busy" 

"You're hiding" Yelena said, taking a sip of her drink once more.

"Hiding?" You questioned with a frown. Yelena nodded, "you're using this new Avengers team as an excuse to let yourself be happy" 

You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, "trust me, I am not someone that somebody wants to come home to every night" 

"I do" Yelena said softly. 

You looked over at Yelena to find her already looking you in the eyes. The look in her eyes told you everything, a simple look and you knew what she was about to say. "Yelena" you started.

"I know, I know what you're going to say and you can try to tell me just how much you don't think you're worth it but I want to be able to worry about you, I want to be able to come home to you, I want to see the world with you, to take you out for dates and do all those little things that love so much. 

I don't want to waste what is the rest of my life letting my past control what I do and how I feel, I've had feelings for you since that day you came to Nat's tombstone on her birthday. You left her favorite flowers you didn't leave the site until you knew I was okay. We had only met twice, and you had it in your heart to be there so a stranger. I think about that day a lot" she explained. 

Your mind went back to that day, Yelena sat with Nat for hours. You didn't mind waiting and making sure she would be okay, after all, you promised Nat that you would be there for her whenever she needed, and something told you that day that Yelena needed somebody to watch over her. 

"You would've done the same" you replied. 

Yelena shook her head, "if I didn't know you, no I wouldn't" she replied honestly. 

"Yelena, you're probably just drunk, you don't mean any of this" you added, rising from your seat, "it's late, I should probably make sure Kate isn't chocking on her own vomit" you added. 

Before you knew it, Yelena had a grip on your wrist, not a hard grip but even to make you stop trying to walk away from her. She pulled you closer to her, never breaking her eye contact with you, "I can handle my vodka, but I can't bare another moment without you" she spoke softly before kissing you deeply. You dropped the plastic cup in your hand, letting it hit the ground and splashing your drink as you found yourself wrapping your arms around the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. 

You pulled away for air as a tear rolled down your cheek, Yelena smiling softly as she wiped it away with her thumb, "don't worry about Kate, she's been drinking punch for the last two hours" she said, making you chuckle. 

"You're not going to reject this in the morning, right?" You asked as worry filled your eyes. 

"Not in a million years" Yelena replied.

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[maliland]

PLAY FAIR!

now playing: xo by beyoncé

barbie(s): e-1610 miles & black fem reader

includes: fluff & fake ass friends

synopsis: your day starts off a bit rocky when you're confronted with conflict concerning your friendships. your boyfriend cheers you up by taking you to the fair!

wc: 8358 (not including the bonus)

credz: @/firefly-graphics

a/n: first fluff fic yayay!! i lied abt when i was dropping this sooo many times, mb.. there's a bonus to make up for it. i hope u guys enjoy this and read VERY slowly bc idk when i'm dropping a fic next 🚶‍♀️ idk what i was doing here lowkey… i h8 everything but the bonus. (i'm biased i like angst better) lmk what y’all think of this tho 💞 ((i proof read but there might be mistakes))

mothers were always thought to have an intuition when it came to their children—some sort of sixth sense. the science behind it? well, there is none. none that’s been proven, anyway. that doesn’t stop some mothers from swearing that their second sight was legit. your mom was one of them, constantly giving her unwarranted two cents about people in your life who seemed harmless to you.

you felt blessed to have the mother you did. she was your best friend and your biggest cheerleader. she brought you up to be the girl you are today. without her, you didn't know who you'd be. not having a huge group of friends to be around 24/7 didn't really bother you as much as it would have if you didn't have her.

you’ve never felt like you needed to hide anything from your mom, but you did keep your crush on miles a secret for a hot minute. you'd never liked someone the way you liked him. you were shocked to discover that he like you too. when miles was ready to make things official, you knew you couldn't hide him from your mom anymore, so you didn't. she met him one saturday morning over breakfast, and to your surprise, she liked him. you were shocked she didn’t have anything condemnatory to say about your boyfriend, not because there was anything wrong with miles, but because your mom is overprotective of you.

growing up, you hadn’t always been the most sociable kid. all of the friends you had now found you and so did miles. that being said, your mom worried that people would take advantage of your built-in hospitality and youf kind heart. she watched out for certain things when you'd describe your interactions with people, then told you to watch out as well. although her overprotectiveness could be irritating more often than not, your mom had definitely helped you avoid trouble here and there.

growing up meant change. you weren't the biggest fan of change because of the risk that came with it. you had always preferred to stick to what you know—until this year. your fourth and final year of high school had you wanting to break out of your shell. the same few friends wouldn’t be there to keep you company when you graduate and go to different colleges, or hold your hand for the rest of your life. neither would your beloved mother. you had to hold your own hand.

you weren't sure how you were going to make friends, and you were too ashamed to ask anyone how to do so. thankfully, you didn't have to do much, because the friends you made came to you.

it started with a group chat with the five girls you had calculus with this year: tiesha, taraji, yanira, and adana. tiesha had created the chain so you all could send homework answers and test reviews back and forth. math was never your strong suit, so cheating was really the only reason you were passing. brief conversations about homework and how much you all hated the class turned into full blown conversations about boys and tv shows. minor comments about something annoying that someone did in class turned into major gossip sessions. you couldn't remember the last time you went a whole day without talking to those girls, whether it was one text message or twenty.

your mom told you she was excited that you had expanded your circle, but you could tell by the way her smile had slightly faltered that she was indeed irresolute. you knew you’d never understand her intuitive claims unless you had children of your own, and even then, you’d still doubt the phenomenon’s validity. it was just your nature to question everything.

presently, you were at a food court in the mall, sitting by yourself at one of the tables. every now and then, you’d glance up from your phone and see a group of friends or a couple pass by you.

you were supposed to hang out with yanira, taraji, adana, and tiesha, but it was almost one and none of them had showed up to the spot in the mall where you agreed to meet. every call you made went straight to voicemail. frustrated, you opened instagram to see if any of the girls were active. you raised a brow when you noticed the multicolored spiral around yanira’s profile picture at the top of your dash where stories were located. you tapped it just to be confronted with a boomerang of yanira, tiesha, adana, and taraji posing in a dressing room mirror. your eyes bored into the screen for a few seconds before you swiped out of instagram, treachery bubbling in your stomach. you released an exasperated sigh.

your mom was right. once again.

you glanced at a nearby tv on one of the walls in the food court and saw a picture of spider-man. you read the captions as they glided across the bottom of the screen, the clip of the hero fighting off a villain playing simultaneously. the news reporter narrated the highlights of the brawl and another one followed up his narration by concluding that spider-man had once again saved the city.

you smiled to yourself like a proud mother, then you thought about miles, not spider-man. you hadn’t talked to your boyfriend since the night before. as if he could read your mind, your phone buzzed against the table and lit up.

3 text messages @ 12:42pm

miles: hey, pretty girl (12:42pm)  miles: i couldn’t text you this morning, i’m sorry (12:42pm)  miles: villain of the week decided to get up early today (12:42pm)

so did you, but for different reasons. reasons that no longer mattered. you didn't even know why you were still sitting in that food court. you should've been en route to the train station by now. you felt so damn stupid.

you: that’s okay (12:43pm)

miles: are you okay? (12:43pm) miles: yk i’d never purposely ignore you, right? (12:43pm)

you: yeah, i know (12:44pm) you: it’s not you (12:44pm)  you: i’m at the mall rn bc i was supposed to meet some friends here, but they never showed. nb wanted to answer the phone either (12:44pm) you: i checked instagram n it turns out they’re all here (12:45pm) you: just without me (12:45pm) you: sooo now i have to do the walk of shame back to the subway station (12:45pm)

miles: that’s so messed up, i’m really sorry (12:46pm)  miles: did anything happen with them before this? (12:46pm)

you: no (12:46pm)  you: i mean if it did then idk anything about it (12:47pm)  you: my ma warned me about those girls. i should’ve listened 🤦‍♀️ (12:47pm)

miles: i got an idea. are you free now? (12:47pm)

you: i am 🤨 (12:48pm)

miles: take the subway to mine (12:48pm)  miles: i have a surprise ❤️ (12:48pm)

you: i gtg grab smth from my place b4 that (12:49pm) you: but i’ll be there :) (12:49pm)

miles loved a message @ 12:50pm

you didn’t even realize the smile that had crept up on your face until it was almost ear to ear and a few seconds away from making your cheeks ache. you quickly stood up from your chair, the legs howling loudly as they scraped against the tile. you winced at the noise and picked the chair up to move it instead of pushing it in. afterwards, you began walking to the exit closest to the subway station. your pace slowed when you saw your “friends” in front of you. they hadn’t noticed you yet. you hoped they wouldn't. they were walking in a horizontal line, laughing and carrying bags on their arms from different stores. you thought it made them look like they belonged in mean girls, or some coming-of-age disney movie with a clique of popular girls who manage to be both unnecessarily cruel and loved by everyone for antsgonists.

when the group of teens finally spotted you, they briefly side-eyed one another before looking back at you, fake smiles gracing their lips almost immediately after.

did they think you were stupid, blind, or both?

“[name]!” adana called out to you when you were only a few feet apart. she dragged out the last part of your name too. you saw it for what it was: an obvious and weak effort to sound genuine. adana picked up her pace so she got to you faster than the other girls. “we thought you weren’t coming, girl!”

you remained tranquil, though you could see everyone else behind adana snickering and exchanging looks. your kept your face relatively blank, not wanting to show the girls before you even the slightest bit of chagrin. they’d get a kick out of it and your outburst would be the topic of their conversations for weeks to come. high school was truly exhausting.

“i mean, i got here at twelve like we agreed,” you shrugged. “i called you guys too. i guess your phones were off.”

“yeah, they were,” taraji chimed in, showing you the 'do not disturb' icon on her phone. you fought the urge to roll your eyes at her fraudulent tone.

you almost couldn’t believe that this was a real situation that you were somehow caught in the middle of. tiesha pouted, the friction between her lips causing her already-faded pink and brown lip combo to fade some more. you knew she was mocking you, but you only wanted to smile when you thought about the shiny gloss that was neatly slathered on your lips, much unlike hers.

“are you okay? have you been here by yourself this whole time?” tiesha interrogated. it felt more like instigating.

“i mean, yeah,” your eyes darted around nervously. lipgloss honestly wasn’t a big deal anyway, tiesha probably had more in her bag. your confidence boost was short-lived and had diminished. you were never the type to thrive off someone's disadvantage. either way, you could act. “but it didn’t really bother me ‘cause i was texting my boyfriend and we—”

“boyfriend?” adana laughed mockingly like it was unbelievable. like it was impossible. “i didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“what? i’ve told you guys this,” you frowned, your voice wavering to a degree.

you stared at the four girls with an eyebrow cocked up while they turned to each other and shook their heads, a few whispers floated in the air and into your ears. you had spoken about miles to these girls before, you were positive. he was never a secret, you just weren’t someone who posted online a lot. in fact, you only had instagram because your mom made you sign up. you’d never posted once. either way, it’s your relationship. you didn’t want everyone in your business, that’s where mess was rooted. that's how problems started.

what mess the unforeseen treatment you were receiving was rooted in? that was a mystery to you. you didn’t understand how the girls who were supposed to be your friends could switch up on you at the speed of light. there hadn’t been any fights or arguments between any of you—to your knowledge, at least.

you’ve always preached that there are two sides to every story, but you also preached communication. you all were cool last night while confirming today’s plans, now suddenly they know nothing about you?

nobody questioned you about miles. instead, yanira broke the silence that you’d spent lost in your thoughts, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable situation you were in with purely scraps. “well, good thing we found you now.” she pursed her lips afterwards, clearly stifling a laugh.

words couldn’t describe how stupid and naive you felt. they were trying to play you in your face and thought you were oblivious to it. you were starting to think so too. maybe they’d been playing in your face this entire time. maybe they’ve been acting for the duration of your friendship. maybe there were signs this entire time and you didn’t notice until now. maybe the idea of meeting new people thrilled you too much, and they took advantage of that when they realized it.

you weren’t lashing out over everything going on in the name of “staying calm.” you couldn’t grant anyone the satisfaction of knowing they struck a nerve, and bad. you were just as committed to keeping up with your act as they were to theirs, and nothing was going to make you let up.

“we were just about to grab some food,” tiesha added after yanira, smiling ever so innocently, as if she was oblivious to the treatment you were receiving. tiesha was the one you were the closest with, so that hurt. stung even.

“thanks, but i have other plans,” you faked a smile and made sure to look each one of your “friends” dead in each of their glowering, dull eyes.

adana’s face contorted in slight indignation. “how could you have plans? were you only gonna hang with us for an hour?”

“i was heading out before i ran into you guys,” you smiled and shrugged, checking the time on your phone. “gotta go now or i’ll miss the train. i’ll see you guys at school on monday.”

those insolent girls gave you the stink eye as deviated away. a few steps farther from fakery and you could already hear the whispers and the murmurs, even if the mall was loud. they sounded more like hisses the farther away you got, until they blended into the many, many sounds of your local mall. you were thankful to be free from that conversation—if you could even call it that.

your next chat oughta be a real one. though you hated it, confrontation was just around the corner.

❤︎₊ ⊹

“and then they acted like absolutely nothing was wrong… tiesha too!”

you were seated on one end of the couch in miles’ apartment, your legs crossed and resting on top of his thighs and a pillow between the arm of the couch and your back. miles hadn’t told you what the surprise was yet, and quite frankly, it had slipped your mind entirely. you were never good when it came to keeping your emotions in check. the fury boiling and seething inside you was so immense that you couldn’t give anything but what happened at the mall even half of a thought even if you wanted to. miles was steadily running his hand up and down the bottom half of one of your legs because he knew it’d help you calm you down. it was something he did by default while you were ranting, because when you were upset over something, you could go on for hours.

miles was a teen girl’s diary that could talk back. you had been on a twenty-minute tangent about what transpired at the mall, making sure to include even the most minor details that other people would view as futile. your boyfriend made sure you knew he was listening, nodding and making a few comments when you’d pause to catch your breath. most people would hate hearing someone complain for as long as you usually did, but miles didn't mind it. in fact, he enjoyed it. it wasn’t your anger that he savored, he just loved staring at your pretty face. you had miles in a trance forever and always. your beauty would forever captivate the boy and you were well aware. the difference between now and when you weren’t blowing smoke out of your ears was that miles could admire every feature without you teasing him for it, because you wanted him to pay attention. in any other instance, you loved pointing out how much he stares and making fun of him for it as if you’re not just as head over heels.

“i feel pathetic. i waited there for a goddamn hour. and you wanna know what the worst part about all of this is?” you exhaled, your irises peering directly into miles’.

even when you were upset, you could admire him. you were doing it in that moment. last time it was his eyes, now it was his hair. the sun rays looming from the unfolded blinds painted his afro a soft brown, singling out and defining numerous strands of those gorgeous spirals sprouting from his head. he was so perfect to you. you often had trouble believing you could call him yours.

“tell me,” miles retorted, slightly angling his head to the left.

“i wore a good outfit for nothing,” you whined, tipping your head back concurrently. “i just got this tracksuit! this is honestly ten times worse than wasting a good outfit on a boring day.”

you had on a black, velvet matching set from juicy couture. it was expensive and you were pissed to have had wasted your first wear on the day you found out your friends aren’t shit. miles remembered how excited you were to buy that outfit. you’d talked about saving the money for it for what felt like forever.

“you didn’t waste your outfit,” miles assured you, drawing confusion to your face almost immediately. “i still have a surprise, you know.”

“right,” your eyes lit up and you sat up straighter, disregarding your mood. “i was thinking about it on the subway and i have a few guesses.”

“i don’t think you’ll be able to guess this one, but you can try," he laughed lowly.

“cookies?” you started.

miles shook his head. “no.”

“a cat?”

“no, mami,” he laughed.

“ummm,” you tapped your chin like you were deep in thought. your dark-colored orbs traveled to the ceiling. “movie marathon night?”

“better.”

you snapped your fingers. “christmas movie marathon night."

“no movies,” miles clarified.

“beyoncé?”

“not beyoncé.”

“i can do your makeup?!”

“nope.”

“you got me,” you rolled your eyes and blew raspberries. “i give up. spill.”

“i know you wanted to go to the fair during the summer, but i didn’t take you because i knew you’d complain about the heat,” miles began. “now that it’s november, i figured it’d be the perfect time to go.”

“oh shit, for real?!” your eyes slightly widened as you swung your legs off of miles.

“i don’t see why i wouldn’t be,” he retorted. “we’ll take the train and walk the rest of the way.”

you jumped off of the couch in excitement and shuffled behind the piece of furniture to grab your purse. you glanced over at miles, who was now scrolling on his phone. you crept up on him from behind the couch and inched close to his ear.

“get up!” you demanded playfully, grabbing his shoulders. miles slightly flinched, and you burst into a fit of laughter at his reaction.

“okay, okay!” he stood up, rolling his eyes and smiling. “i was thinking we could wait a little bit before we went.”

“nope, no time to waste,” you insisted. you’d wasted enough of that with your “friends.”

your boyfriend told you about all of the abilities that he acquired when he became spider-man, one of them being his heightened senses. you used to expect them to go off whenever you were approaching him, or whenever you scared him, but they never did. when you inquired about it, miles told you that his senses were most likely there to protect him, therefore they’d only go off when they felt like someone or something posed a threat. he didn’t elaborate any further, but you got what you needed to out of it.

knowing that miles and his radioactive dna felt safe around you made you feel special.

❤︎₊ ⊹

you hadn't been to a fair since you were ten. you had gone with your cousins, your mom, and your aunt. back then, you weren't smart enough to know how to play any of the games correctly. you weren't tall enough to ride anything that looked cool to you, either. you despised always having to settle for the teacups and the carousel.

going back to the fair wasn't really a priority until that past summer. it just happened to be on the long list of things you wanted to do with miles.

the air outside was cool and crisp and the sun probably felt threatened by the clouds obstructing its view of the city with insomnia. you were relieved to not feel the sweltering heat beating down on you, especially since you had worn the sun’s favorite color in velvet. the leaves on the trees were turning orange now. you were entranced by one tree in particular, watching as the plant detached itself from the branch of the tree and danced in the wind on the way to the ground.

at the front gate, you held out your hand so one of the employees could give you a stamp, as did miles. the stamp was an orange leaf, but it didn't really show up on your darker-colored skin no matter how you squinted.

now that you were there, the fair was much more different than you pictured it to be. though you wanted to experience as much as you could, you had three main goals in mind:  1. win an unnecessarily oversized plush 2. take pictures in a photo booth 3. go on the ferris wheel

as long as you were able to say you did all of those things by the end of that night, you’d forget all the misfortune that the first half of the day bestowed upon you and forgive the universe for allowing it.

as you strolled the fair grounds with miles, you tried to catch a glimpse of everything there was to do as you passed. the fair was bustling with people. there were families, groups of friends, trios, duo. there were also couples, like you and miles. you even saw people by themselves every so often. your day could’ve ended like that, you were elated that you didn’t feel alone anymore, but you’d never say it out loud.

“whatcha wanna do first?” miles asked you. he was being just as observant as you, if not more.

you squinted your eyes ahead and a specific game caught your eye. “let’s play basketball, i’ll definitely whoop your ass this time.”

“big talk for someone who can barely even shoot baskets when we're on the court,” miles fired back. “whoever wins gets to choose what we do next.”

“fine by me,” you shrugged.

you two grabbed a single basketball from your lanes when you got over to the game. you saw miles adjust his grip on the ball from the corner of your eye. you reduced your eyes to slits in response and pressed your lips together.

when the bell rang and the timer began to count down, you both shot your balls into the baskets. both of them made it in. you were doing fine for the first couple of seconds, but then your balls began to veer away from your basket. you quickly glanced over at miles’ scoreboard to find that he was eight scores ahead of you. you furrowed your brows and began throwing balls into the goal again, making the first three shots and missing the last two. you were on autopilot from that moment on, throwing balls at your goal without stopping to celebrate nor gripe.

just as you reached down for a basketball to make another shot, the timer went off, indicating the end of the game. you looked up at your scoreboard to find that you’d only gotten twenty-eight shots. you could already feel miles’ eyes boring a hole through your head, patiently waiting on you to look over at his lane and accept defeat.

you gave in to defeat and scanned his final scoreboard: fifty-eight shots.

you finally looked over at the boy and he was smirking slyly. “yeah, so i’m tryna play the game with the water guns and the targets.”

you would’ve much preferred to find a photo booth next, but a deal was a deal, so you brushed off your loss. neither of you had a map, so you weren't sure where any of the games were. you two agreed to wing it, so you and miles roamed around for a while. you made small talk and miles teased you for being so confident that you'd win the last game.

finally, you came across the mini-game he wanted to play. your face lit up when you saw all the stuffed animals hanging from the rack above. you could get behind this.

the worker was on her phone, visibly nodding off until you two approached the game. you caught a glimpse of her rolling her eyes and shoving her phone in the back pocket of her black jeans. though she was clearly fed up by the presence of you and your boyfriend, she thoroughly explained the rules of the game. miles had to strike down moving targets with a water gun. the targets would move left to right, up and down, or both. he had to shoot all of them to win, and he only got five minutes to do so.

the worker hit the red button and miles was on the clock.

the targets were the typical kind: white circles with red circular stripes, and a red bullseye in the middle. you watched keenly as miles gripped the gun and squeezed one of his eyes shut for precision, pulling the trigger and shooting a line of water at two of the targets with ease. to his surprise, they began to move faster. he was still hitting them though.

the employee was paying miles no mind, already turned around and back on her phone, texting away. even though dealing with those targets was like breathing for miles, he decided to take a shortcut. just for fun.

while the worker wasn’t looking, miles handed you the water gun and used his web-shooters to swiftly shoot down the last five targets. your eyes enlarged at him in a panic and before you could really think about it, you sprayed the webbing off of the targets miles shot down with them.

the worker turned back around when she heard the winner’s bell ringing. by that time, the water gun was already back in miles' hand. the worker stared at the both of you in confusion. miles looked proud of himself. you nervously smiled and shrugged.

the worker rolled her eyes before they traveled over to the selection of toys and stuffed animals just above her. “pick a prize, any prize,” she said unenthusiastically.

“which one do you want, mama?” miles asked you.

“umm…” your voice trailed off. your eyes glossed over all the different plushies until one caught your eye. “stitch for sure.”

the worker nodded and unhooked the stuffed animal from the rack. she quickly handed it to miles and gave him a quick half-assed smile before resuming her bored expression. miles passed you the stuffed animal and you smiled brightly. you remembered this feeling, and you felt like a little kid all over again.

“he’s our son now,” you proudly declared.

“he’s too big for that,” miles teased you. “that’s a grown man.”

you gave miles a dirty look and punched him in the shoulder. “i won’t let you body shame our son.”

“my bad!” miles laughed and put his hands up in defense.

"yeah, whatever," you gave miles an eye roll and grimaced. you clocked the worker glaring at you two from the corner of your eye, so you grabbed miles' hand and hurriedly dragged him away from the booth. "we gotta go before she sees the pile of webs on the ground and has cps investigate us. she already hates us, what if she makes us return our son?”

"that's your main concern?" miles' eyes widened. "not the worker finding out i'm a superhero?"

“why would i be worried about that?" you inquired playfully. "i shouldn't have to lose my baby because you wanted to risk your identity."

you both laughed as you wandered along the paths of the fair aimlessly. neither of you knew what you where you were going next, but you were way too immersed in your debate to think about it. amidst your little parley, the sun finally escaped from the clouds' cover, the sky shifting to a warm orange and light shades of pink instead of the gray it had greeted you with.

“by the way, that was very much cheating,” you chuckled, thinking back to the mini-game. “you need to play fair next time. no web-shooters.”

“we had no opponents,” your boyfriend reminded you.

“the employee seemed like one,” you replied, thinking back to the looks she’d give you two. “i didn’t even know you had your shooters on you… anyway, that means stitch is an accident.” you frowned.

miles' nose wrinkled. “man, what?”

“i’m just chattin’,” you snickered.

“per usual,” miles shook his head, slinging his arm around your shoulder and shaking his head.

you two kept walking aimlessly for a little while, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you spotted a photo booth. you briefly made eye contact with miles before briskly snatching up his arm, pulling him as you sped over to the booth.

“the booth’s not gonna disappear, damn!” miles from behind you, panting with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“it could,” you shrugged, gesturing to the curtain with your free hand. “get in.”

“stitch won’t fit in there,” miles pointed out.

you frowned and observed your surroundings. you knew stitch was bound to get stolen if you left him outside unattended. you continued to glance around, trying to come up with a simple, but logical solution. your eyes stopped on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench by herself, flipping through a novel. she had on a white sweater with a black dress underneath, her long hair braided down and resting on her shoulder. you told miles to wait by the booth and approached the woman with a light-hearted smile on your face.

“hi, excuse me," you spoke softly in an attempt to make a good impression.

the lady looked up at you, half-surprised. she adjusted the position glasses with her index finger, gently pushing them up the bridge of her nose. “oh, yes?”

“may you please watch this for me while i take pictures with my boyfriend in that booth over there? i promise we won’t be long.”

you looked back at miles and pointed in his direction. though he was clearly confused, he smiled nervously and waved anyway. you turned back around to face the woman and smiled again.

“of course i will, dear,” the lady replied, a smile gracing her lips. she waved back at miles.

“thank you so much,” you smiled graciously, setting stitch next to her on the bench. you were ready to go back to miles when the woman stopped you by calling out. you whipped around, biding patiently in the same spot until she spoke.

“cherish the memories that you’re making. all of them.”

you didn’t exactly know what she meant, but then your last trip to the fair came to mind. it was so long ago, but you had almost forgotten how much fun you’d had, even if you couldn’t do much. you never wanted to make the mistake of taking memories for granted whilst you’re making them, because then you'd miss them too much when they were in the past, at least that's how you saw it. the future is uncertain. life is cruel. that day at the fair as a toddler could’ve been the first and the only time you ever went. today could be the second and the last. you hadn’t really thought about any of that before. you hadn’t thought about how precious your memories really were.

“and make them with the right people.”

you knew what that meant.

your eyes lowered, confusion evident on your face anyway. “how do i know if they’re the right people?”

“you’ll know. intuition is real. if something feels wrong or right, you'll know. listen to what your body is telling you, my dear,” the lady replied, crossing one leg over the other and opening her book back up.

your eyes widened slightly as you were still a tad bit lost, but you nodded. "okay. i will."

you jogged back to the photo booth, excitement coursing through your veins. miles didn’t bother questioning your tactics this time.

you both sat down in the photo booth and miles drew the curtain shut. he sat back and you tapped the screen, selecting two printouts so you could both keep one. before you even got the chance to retrieve your wallet from your purse, miles was sliding a couple dollars inside the machine. you hadn’t even noticed them in his hand before.

“today is my treat. you’re not paying for anything,” he told you.

“boo. i can’t spoil my man every now and then?” you clicked your tongue. “i’ll get you those comics you wanted instead.”

miles shook his head and chuckled. when the timer on the screen began to count down from ten, you fixed your braids and made sure your clothes looked presentable.

“i have ideas,” you announced to miles. you'd be envisioning this moment in your mind for ages. “just let me lead.”

“you the boss,” miles conceded in compliance.

“cool,” you giggled. you slid your hand under miles' chin and pulled him closer until your lips were pressed onto his cheek. you stayed in the same position with your eyes closed until you heard the first flash. the next photo was simple, a shot of you and miles kissing. the third one was the both of you looking at each other and laughing. it wasn’t planned, but miles had made a joke so you didn’t have time to pose any differently.

in the following ten seconds, you made miles your canvas, scattering kissing all over his face. he was confused until he looked at the screen to see all that your lips were imprinted on his face with colored lipgloss. he kissed his teeth but then laughed. your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, and that was the last photo. it was your favorite.

you waited for the photo strips to print and then left the booth. you immediately snapped your neck towards the bench to see your stitch plushy still sitting with the older lady. you sighed in relief and jogged over to her.

“thank you again!” you beamed, grabbing the stuffed animal.

you had a feeling she knew you were also thanking her for the unsolicited advice. you'd never understand how some older people were so good at reading others.

“you’re welcome, dear,” she waved goodbye and you waved back.

you wouldn’t forget what she told you.

you then went back to miles, expressing how happy you were that stitch wasn’t stolen. you went on and on about what a terrible mother you would’ve been, had you lost your child after not even twenty minutes of having him.

a few minutes later, miles caught you staring at some nearby concession stands. you didn’t eat anything before leaving his flat, but the line was a bit lengthy. you were silently trying to decide whether the wait would be worth it.

“you hungry?”

you nodded, settling for waiting in a long queue over an empty stomach. “starving."

❤︎₊ ⊹

it was getting late now. the sun was nowhere in sight and neither was the end of the night. the cool fall breeze felt nice against your soft skin. you wished that you could live in this part of the day for eternity, playfully bickering with miles as if you wouldn’t cling to him a few minutes later during the drop on a rollercoaster.

up to that point, you had gone on at least thirteen rides and played nine competitive mini-games. miles ended up winning most of them, despite him saying he’d go “easy on you.” you’d always respond to loss by saying you won in your heart, and he’d laugh at you. you’d pretend to be upset until you couldn’t fake it anymore and laughed along with him.

now, you and miles were sitting on grass, the synthetic kind. you two had shared a peculiarly long corn dog. you claimed that was enough for you, but miles ordered nachos too, and you shamelessly snatced up a sizable amount of them. food just tasted better when it wasn't yours.

after hours of being offline, you finally had a phone break. you sent your mom a text to check in with her before navigating to your email app. you scrolled through your recent until you came across the digital copies of the pictures you and miles took in the photo booth earlier sitting in your inbox. “i got the digital version of the photos. they're so cute!" you exclaimed.

miles grinned. “send ‘em to me later on."

“will do,” you agreed, looking back up to see him stood up from the ground with stitch in hand.

“i’ma rent out a locker to keep this guy inside of and then head to the bathroom,” he told you.

“okay, i’ll be here,” you nodded.

whenever you were out with anyone, you always thought it was common courtesy not to reply to texts that weren’t urgent. you never wanted to make anyone in your life feel like your focus wasn’t on them while you were spending time together. that being said, you hadn’t thoroughly gone through your notification center since you were at the mall. since miles was gone for a little, you thought it was a good time to deliver a few textbacks, because you knew that after tonight, you wouldn’t have any energy to do so until the next day.

you didn’t have any notifications from the calculus group chat, no surprise there. you had an older one from your mom from before you checked in, but she was just sending a tiktok. the next one down was tiesha and then adana. a pit formed in your stomach and you nervously chewed on the inside of your cheek. despite the uneasy feeling you had, you opened tiesha’s text first.

tiesha💞: [name] (5:46pm) tiesha💞: miles is your boyfriend?? (5:46pm)

‘not this again’ you thought.

you didn’t know what you were expecting the text to say, but it wasn’t that. this wasn’t a topic you wanted to circle back on, given everyone’s initial reactions. and you thought she knew—you thought everyone knew. maybe you weren’t as close with tiesha as you thought you were. or any of those girls.

you: yes... i’ve said this before (7:34pm)

you: literally with him rn. why? what’s the problem? (7:35pm)

your brows were knitted together as you anticipated a reply, your fingers drawing circles in midair just centimeters above the keyboard. you were biting the left side of your lip and your teeth were close to piercing the skin. tiesha's response came quick despite your late reply.

tiesha 💞: miles morales? the one i told you i like?? (7:36pm)

you read the text and had to do a double-take. your stomach dropped all over again. you had an exceptional memory. tiesha had never mentioned miles to you, like, ever. she hadn't mentioned any crush of hers to you at all. you just assumed she wasn't interested in dating.

you: i don’t remember you saying anything about like any miles.. but yeah he’s my boyfriend. (7:36pm) you: he has been for months now. i told y’all this, so idk why you were acting all confused @ the mall. (7:37pm)

tiesha 💞: if we knew then why would we be acting confused? 😐 (7:37pm)

you narrowed your eyes at the screen. you could tell her tone was meant to be harsh.

you: i don’t know, tiesha. (7:38pm) you: maybe for the same reason y’all were acting confused when you found me by myself at the spot that we agreed to meet at tday?? 🤦‍♀️ (7:38pm)

tiesha 💞: we said you could come hang w us (7:39pm) tiesha 💞: you’re the one who left (7:39pm)

you released an exasperated sigh as you read her response. you thought back to what the lady who watched stitch for you told you earlier. you couldn’t stick around these girls for any longer. they weren’t the people you wanted to make memories with. perhaps they were nothing more than a much needed lesson. you partially learned how to socialize, but you also needed to learn how to stand up for yourself. you were growing up. nobody else was going to do it for you.

you: i left bc you guys were acting weird towards me (7:40pm) you: idk what the deal is, but if there’s a problem you need to be straight up about it. (7:40pm) you: we all agreed to meet at the food court, but i opened ig to see y’all posing in a mirror while i’m sitting alone. why’d you even invite me atp?? (7:40pm)

tiesha 💞: i thought adana was lying when she said you got with miles, behind my back but ig she was right. (7:40pm) tiesha 💞: you weird af for that. you know i like him (7:41pm)

you: fym bro.. ??? 😭 i literally did not (7:41pm) you: and either way, he’s BEEN my boyfriend (7:42pm)

tiesha 💞: yk you only got w him to tick me off 🖕 (7:42pm)

you: ok wtv. (7:44pm) you: you guys showed me what kind of people you really are, so best believe i’m not sticking around anyway. you can tell that to eb else.(7:45pm) you: and i don't know what you thought you were doing. miles has been MY boyfriend for almost over a year now. he’ll continue to be my boyfriend for years to come, thanks. (7:47pm)

you didn't hesitate to leave the group chat and block those girls everywhere. they didn’t get to have access to you anymore. it felt like weight was lifted off your shoulders and you silently celebrated in your head. you were still in public and didn’t want to draw attention to you because you were cheering about cutting people off. at least you were free from the burden, even if you had a few less friends now.

“ready to go to the ferris wheel?”

you glanced up from your phone to see miles towering over you, both of hands in the pockets of his green puffer. you smiled big. this was the last thing on your checklist, and the thing you’d been looking forward to since you set foot on fair grounds.

“duh,” you giggled, reaching your arm out so miles could pull you up. after he did, you brushed off your outfit and cleared your throat. “so, do we know which way it is?”

“nope,” miles answered. “we’ll just start walking and hope we come across a map, or something.”

you raised and eyebrow and smirked. “so like we’ve been doing this whole time?”

“like we’ve been doing this whole time,” he echoed.

“i guess it makes it more adventurous,” you decided as you two began to walk away from the grass. you clasped your hand with his. “plus, i can tell you what happened with tiesha while you were in the bathroom while we look for it.”

miles’ eyebrows elevated. “something happened?”

“yep,” you shake your head in annoyance. “tiesha had a crush on you or something. apparently, she didn’t know we were together, so she thinks i got with you just to spite her.”

“how wouldn’t she know?”

“that’s what gets me!” you pointed your index at miles’ chest and tilted your head back in irritation. “i told her and the other three, so i don’t know why they were acting clueless! plus, she swears up and down i knew she liked you. that girl never said a word.”

“from everything you’ve told me today… it sounds like they just don’t like you,” he frowned, speaking in a way that told you he was trying not to hurt your feelings.

“they don’t,” you sighed, tilting your head up slightly. “that’s why we’re not friends anymore. i told tiesha to tell everyone else we won't be talking anymore.”

"really? are you okay?"

you reluctantly nodded. "yeah, i think i'm okay." you were telling the truth. in the moment, you were okay. maybe it'd bother you later, but all that mattered was that it wasn't bothering you now.

miles’ expression softened in relief. “that’s good. i’m glad you’re learning not to take b.s.”

you covered your mouth and snickered when you heard "b.s." for whatever reason, you thought it was humourous coming out of miles' mouth.

“no, really,” miles insisted anyway. “i’m proud of you.”

you didn’t ask for confirmation because you believed him even if you found the delivery funny. “thank you, miles.”

he smiled and pulled you closer, planting a kiss on your forehead. you grinned and pressed your ear against his arm. you made sure to take in and appreciate each and every step you took forward with your lovely boyfriend. you were cherishing a memory that wasn’t one yet, but tonight felt far too special not to. you absorbed everything to the scenery and the moonlight to the warmth that clinging to miles' arm gave you.

as if it was looking for you two and not the other way around, you and miles found your way to the ferris wheel without even having to seek out direction. surprisingly, the queue wasn’t at all demanding. when you got closer to the front of the line, you thought of something. you needed something to remember your favorite memory by, anyway.

“we should take a picture in front of the wheel,” you suggested to your boyfriend. “we can ask someone to do it for us.”

“bet,” miles pulled his phone out of his back pocket of his jeans.

he turned around and kindly asked a random girl standing in line behind you two if she could take the photo for you. she thankfully agreed and miles swiped to the camera app and handed her his cell. you two backed up a bit and the girl told you where to stand so that the photo would look better. you took a few pictures standing in front of the wheel side by side, miles’ arm around your shoulders. you two were hugging in one of the shots and he was kissing your forehead in the other.

after those pictures, you took miles’ arm and made him face a different direction. now your shoulders were to the camera lens and the ferris wheel. you snaked your arms around his neck and he instinctively placed his arms around your waist. this was one of your favorite poses, miles knew what to do by now.

you glanced down at your feet and took a step closer to miles so the distance you two wouldn’t look awkward. you lifted your head back up to meet his gaze. the boy was looking at you and you could’ve sworn you saw hearts forming in his eyes. he wasn’t just looking at you, he was admiring you. there was a difference, and you could tell.

but it’s not like you weren’t doing the same.

you whispered loud enough for only miles to hear. “i love you."

“i love you more."

you shifted onto your toes and miles slightly leaned down to reach you. your lips connected effortlessly, your eyes fluttering closed in unison. the ferris wheel lights glimmered behind you two as miles deepened the kiss. you mindlessly lifted your hands to his cheek, your thumbs gently caressing his soft, warm skin.

“got it!” the girl taking the photo called out.

you and miles slowly withdrew your bodies apart and she approached you two, handing miles the phone. you both thanked the girl and got back in line. your gaze was fixed on the structure above you. all you could think about was how pretty the sky was bound look from all the way up there.

you excitedly entered the cabin when it was finally you and miles’ turn. the designated employee shut the door and your eyes immediately glued themselves to the window. you were just barely going up, and you already had a better view of the fair and all of the lights.

“you seeing this, miles?” you questioned without even daring to rip your eyes away from the window.

“i am,” he smiled. your reaction to the view made him happier than any angle of the world around him ever could.

as you ascended higher up, you focused more on what was above ground rather than on it. the luminous stars painted the night sky like white spatters of paint would paint a black canvas. they glittered brightly above you while the ferris wheel slowly spun.

you turned your head back to miles to smile at him, but he beat you to it. you felt like the luckiest girl alive. you were thankful to have at least one person who was true to you. that alone was more than enough. 

miles was more than enough.

the moonshine illuminated your beguiling features as you admired its fullness and its beauty. your head was rested on miles’ shoulder and his arm was sitting around your waist, the other one holding your hand in his lap. you knew you’d look back on this and recall that you never took this day or the feeling that came with it for granted, not once.

this felt so right—you didn’t know how to explain it. tonight was perfect and you would never change a thing. everything was how it should be. you were where you should be, you could feel it. this felt right in your soul.

maybe this was it. maybe this is what everyone was talking about.

maybe intuition is real.

❤︎₊ ⊹ bonus:

you and miles had concluded your fair date and were back at his place. you were going to stay for a while before returning to your own. your head was on his shoulder and your legs were curled up in the opposite direction. his hand was evolved in yours, as yours was in his. miles' mom was home and you definitely didn't want to give her the wrong idea by appearing exceedingly handsy.

“i had fun,” you gloated on the day you'd just had as miles browsed through netflix on the tv.

“are you sure? you seemed pretty over it when i beat you at basketball.”

you tongue clicked. "very funny, morales." you thought for a moment. “and thanks for taking me out, by the way. i know you were probably tired from having to fight all morning,” you exhaled.

“it’s no problem,” miles insisted, though you could tell he looked tired. “tomorrow’s sunday, i’ll get some sleep then.”

you both turned your heads when you heard the sound of a door being opened echoed through the hallway followed by rhythmic footsteps. even though you and miles both knew the footsteps belonged to rio, the hallway was dark, so neither you or him could see her until she stepped into the living room. her hair was down instead of being braided or put into a ponytail like it usually was. she was trying to slide a hoop into the earring hole in one of her ears. she was in one of her fancier outfits.

"jeez, you kids been on the couch all day?"

“we went to the fair,” miles replied, a smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

“oh really? explains the oversized oso on your bed. papa, didn’t you use to watch that one show… what was it called? spy oso?”

“special agent oso, mami,” miles corrected her, a hint of embarrassment fermenting in his voice. his teeth were clenched and his eyebrows were furrowed. “and that’s stitch, not a bear.”

you were stifling a laugh, one of your hands shielding the grin on your mouth while the other clutched your stomach. rio didn’t see, but miles did and he rolled his eyes at you.

“i left the snacks in your room, i’ll be right back," you told miles before you got up and disappeared down the hall.

“stitch? what’s a—” rio stopped herself and shook her head. “actually, never mind. how was the fair?”

miles answered her anyway. “it’s an alien, mom. from lilo and stitch. and the fair was good, we had a lot of fun. i can show you pictures later.”

“good,” rio smiled but then broke into a whisper. “miles, mejor la llevas a casa. don’t let that girl wander around all by herself at night.”

“alright, alright,” he put his hands up in defense. “you know i always take her home, calmáte.”

“alright, then. just making sure," rio retorted. "anyway, i’m in a hurry, i’m going to meet your dad, his coworker, and his coworker's wife somewhere. comportarse,” rio cautioned in a stern tone of voice, walking over to the couch and planting a kiss on her son’s cheek.

“i will,” miles promised as his mom hastily walked to the front door.

“tell [name] i’ll see her soon,” rio called out to miles before shutting the door.

a few moments later, you emerged from the shadows that lurked in the hall and took your seat next to miles on the couch. you scooted closer to him and pulled the blanket over both of your legs, handing him his bag of chips then opening your own. he hadn’t chosen something for you guys to watch yet.

“where’d your mom go?” you inquired, looking around.

“somewhere with dad,” miles answered, shrugging his shoulders at the same time. “she told me to say she’ll see you soon though.”

“aww,” you grinned. you really did love rio. you had to stop yourself from chuckling when you recalled her bringing up one of the shows miles used to watch as a kid. as hilarious as you found the whole thing, you held in your laugh anyway. you refocused your attention to the tv on the other side of the coffee table. it didn't take you long to realize that your beloved boyfriend still had yet to choose a movie to watch or a show to binge.

“what should we watch tonight?... homecoming?”

“jesus, no,” miles frantically shook his head, waving his arms around in a panic.

you were referring to beyoncé's 2018 coachella headlining performance movie. you’d made the boy watch the film with you more times than he could count on you two's twenty fingers combined. miles knew the name's every song being performed, the lyrics, and what order they were performed in. he had almost memorized all of the dance breaks, but not willingly. he swore that the word “homecoming” alone triggered some kind of ptsd. miles knew you too well. he was well aware that the renaissance movie would be a homecoming repeat, but maybe ten times worse. he'd been mentally preparing for that as well.

“booooo, you’re boring,” you frowned.

“thanksgiving is coming up, how about that one charlie brown movie?”

“only if we can binge christmas movies after.”

“deal.”

maybemymali ©

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[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

helloo! idk if youre taking requests, but if you do i was thinking of revenge era gee with fem reader who is also a well know singer. like shes on tour and does some festival mcr is playing at and shes really mainstream so the guys dont have high expectations on her music but then they watch her play and they're like "fuck, she actually does know what shes doing" and somehow her and gee exchange numbers and start texting all day long bc theyre both on tour

idk if this makes any sense tbh.

i saw one picture of ts on the red tour that looks like if it was taken with a shitty flip phone and thought of this somehow

anyway, feel free to ignore this and have a good day :D

Title: Happily Ever Accident

A/N: Hey y'all I know it's been actually forever but I saw this in my inbox and thought it was cute so managed to somehow write this amidst midterms season. Idk how but it happened. It's also not thoroughly proof-read because tbh I'm tried and lazy right now. But here's some content for y'all for once. Also, side note, but as I was writing this I was visioning reader as a Sabrina Carpenter-esc figure. Just in the sense of popularity, stage presence, etc. Pairing: Gerard Way (circa mid-2005) x F!PopStar!Reader Word count: 7,978 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of insecurity

Low expectations. The constant standard he had set for almost every single festival his band was expected to play.

It wasn’t that Gerard didn’t like other people’s music, or festivals for that matter, but considering the label had cornered them into a small handful of non-genre restrictive ones he was annoyed. The culture, the vibes, the people- this was not his place. Not his band’s place, for that matter.

But commercialism was the name of the game, he had learned that early on. He was lucky enough the label had allowed their last album to be artistically driven by him, from songs and lyrics to the artwork on the cover. But there is always a quid-pro-quo in the entertainment industry. And playing at a mainstream festival was apparently one of them.

They wouldn’t have agreed to this had their last music video not gone over budget by a significant amount, and now they were paying the price. On top of that the label had encouraged them to be in public, watch other bands play from the VIP tents. Gerard narrowly lost his shit after trying time and time again explain that they needed time to prep for their show, get in the proper mindset, and that would take all the morning into late afternoon when they were finally on. The label exec begged to differ, giving no ultimatum.

“Fucking hell, if we have to listen to another fucking basic pop artist I’m going to lose my mind.” Frank sighed walking through the festival grounds. The group was by no means blending in, as three security guards stood around them and they could easily hear and see people left and right gawking at them as if they were circus animals.

“Good fucking luck with that.” Ray replied. He was never the sarcastic type, if anything he was the most mature and level-headed. So when he had enough, everyone knew it was bad.

“We have one more.” Gerard too sighed, sticking his hands aggressively in his jean pockets. “Then we’re off the fucking hook.” The group took sighs of relief out of sync.

“Who is it?” Frank asked, seeming halfway curious.

“Uh-“ Gerard stopped, checking his phone to see what their manager had texted them. “Great. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Fuck me.” Frank sighed. “My head is going to fucking explode. Listen, I like all music, but I cannot do this much commercial, manufactured pop.”

“I don’t know, her stuff doesn’t seem as bad as some of the others.” Mikey chimed in for the first time.

“How would you know? I’ve only heard her shit in Targets.” Frank speedily replied.

“Social media, I guess. Enough sound clips from her songs have blown up to make them pretty hard to miss.”

“I’m still keeping my expectations low.” Frank shrugged.

“It’s the last one, try to be somewhat positive.” Ray replied halfheartedly.

“We’re never going over budget on anything again.” Gerard quickly added, turning a corner to the next stage’s area. “I can’t fucking do this.”

She got nervous before shows. She was great at hiding it. But in the last few weeks every festival she was playing had crowds growing bigger and bigger. From what her manager had communicated to her approximately two minutes ago, she had the biggest recorded crowd so far for the second day.

Staring at herself in the mirror of the green room, she pushed every bad thought out of her mind. She even closed her eyes and imagined all the bad energy within her swooping out of her body in swirls of dust and being replaced with positive rays of sunshine. It might’ve been stupid, but it worked.

She opened her eyes, putting on her signature smile, looked herself up and down, reminded herself that she was incredibly sexy at the moment, and b-lined it for the door.

Anxiety be damned, her ambitions had gotten her this far and would get her further, she knew that much. She was happy at this point to be thrown into the group of “pop girlies” currently dominating the charts, because it meant she was catering to an already large fan base, and proving others wrong in their assumptions too.

Give a girl some platform boots, a tight outfit where the tops integrity around her chest was questionable, and a microphone- then you’ve got a pop star.

Gerard stood there amazed. He could not fucking believe it.

Three songs in and he was mesmerized. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked with her or himself. He was trying to rack his brain for reasons to not like this, and blank answers came up time and time again.

To begin with, her songs were substantially above average for pop. They had creative instrumentals, catchy sounds, and her lyrics were truly the star of the show.

But then he took into account her as a person. She was quite attractive, sure. He had seen her enough online and in magazines to see at least that much, but he was sure most of the male population and a decent amount of the female population also saw that. But here, in this light, in that tight little outfit that showed off all the right things just enough to give a good idea, but still leave a good amount to the imagination, he was falling head over heels.

He was almost flustered with her perfection in his eyes, having to catch himself to make sure wasn’t staring like a dog at a bone. After all, there were enough people around to know him and take photos, which would lead to massive and weird speculation online that he simply didn’t want to deal with.

And her stage presence was empowering. She was confident, not selfish. She was sexy as much as she was innocent. She was clear in her intentions and messages, just as much when she left some ideas not fully complete to leave people longing and wondering.

Suddenly he understood all the teenage girls in the audience. She was fucking incredible.

“Told you.” Mikey said next to him with a smirk. It was hard for Gerard to look away from her, but he did. “Don’t always believe stereotypes man. You out of all people should know better.”

“That really wasn’t so bad after all.” Frank shrugged as the group walked back to their own green room, hidden in an array of tents set up on the edge of the festival grounds.

“Yeah, but standing in the heat for that long was exhausting.” Ray commented next, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He was always tense until they got all the equipment set up and knew everything was going to go right.

“I don’t know man, that last show kinda rocked.” Mikey responded. “Been trying to tell you guys that not all pop artists are that bad.”

“Well, a lot of them are.” Frank quickly rebutted. “However, you are right, that last one was incredible. I just thought having a girlfriend who obsesses over pop music had gotten to your head.” Mikey rolled his eyes.

Gerard was silent, partially because he didn’t really have anything to say, and partially because he was hanging on to the last show. He learned through years of art school and sketching under cubicle lights that some of the best art was clear as day yet still left you thinking. That was how he felt at the moment. Dwelling in the really astounding feeling he had.

She had single handedly proved a lot of his fallacies wrong. And he saw with his very eyes how she managed to go from half the crowd being into her to the master tools her voice and movement had that puppeteer the crowd like a pro. Who was he kidding though- she clearly was a pro.

Turning a corner he was so lost in his thoughts, his body in auto drive and his vision turned to the cement ground. He knew he needed to stop thinking soon, get in the right headspace for his own show- and then he bumped into something.

His body lost a bit of its control as his right arm collided with something a bit smaller than him. Suddenly he regained all his consciousness as his stabled his footing again, turning his body to see what it was.

And there, low and behold, in those damn platform boots and an oversized hoodie that went so far down her thighs it was a dress, was the very woman who had captured his mind just minutes ago. She was lingering within him, and now she was right here.

Fate works in strange ways.

“Shit, I’m so sorry-“ She began, regaining her own balance as she clearly took more of a hit than he did given that she was shorter and had boots that, despite looking like they weighed a ton, he doubted helped to ground her any more.

“No, that was my fault.” He quickly interrupted, growing embarrassed as she looked up and he realized he had managed to be rude to her in the last 30 seconds not once but twice. “I should’ve been looking out.”

“Me too.” She calmly replied with a small smile, handing this with so much grace and calmness compared to his internal panic.

This close she managed to look even better than on the screens. Photos and videos didn’t do her beauty justice. She looked almost like a doll- near perfect features, beautiful hair, and a smile that was so comforting and cute and graceful. Her makeup was almost as perfect as it was when she went on, but her mascara was ever so smeared around the corner of her eyes, her lipstick fading, and hell- his mind couldn’t help but wander to a place where he wondered what it would be like if he had put her in this state. And then he shut those thoughts up as quickly as they appeared, choosing instead to wonder how anyone could be more perfect.

“I um- I better get going and leave you guys to get to your show.” She quickly said, but froze up not even a moment later, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment of her own. “Shit that was weird wasn’t it? I don’t know you but- well I do, kinda, but like not personally. I mean knowing your music and band and-“ she stopped talking not knowing what to say, her body almost shrinking in a sense of even more embarrassment. “Fuck. I’m gonna shut up now.”

Gerard gave a chuckle and a smile of his own. He felt better now that both of them felt embarrassed.

“No, it’s okay.” He replied. “We’re just coming from your show, actually.” Somehow she froze even more. He could tell under that huge gray hoodie her muscles had tensed further.

“Oh, uh, I hope you enjoyed it.” She softly smiled, polite but seeming almost nervous. Why was he so bad about talking to women, especially pretty ones?

“It was phenomenal, actually.” He replied, nervous himself and instinctively rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands. There was already a thin layer of sweat connecting back there from standing in the heat for so long. But he didn’t care about that nor how he would survive the heat on his stage later- all he cared about right now was not completely fucking up this interaction with the woman in front of him.

“Are you just saying that to be nice?” She asked with a pouty lip as she clearly questioned the integrity of his response. He rapidly shook his head.

“No, of course not. I don’t lie- ever. If anything I went into the show not knowing much- not in a bad way, I mean kinda in an ignorant way if I’m being honest, and you just- fuck, man, the way you controlled that crowd was so exciting and empowering. It truly was incredible.”

Her face looked like a damn puppy dog begging for a treat. If he weren’t human he would have definitely melted by that look. Big eyes and a genuine smile, her cheeks big and emphasizing her reaction.

“That’s really sweet, thank you so much.” She replied, yet again with grace that he wished he had in these moments. “I um- while I would love to talk more I need to take a shower. I feel so sticky and just- gross. But it was really nice talking to you. And thanks so much for watching me, I really appreciate the feedback.”

His heart broke just a bit.

“Yeah, of course.” He replied, and before he could think he blurted out. “You’re more than welcome to come to ours as well, I mean I’m sure you have the artist VIP tent access, but if you wanna get closer I can definitely arrange a barricade pass for you.”

Her eyes lit up and glowed in a way he wished he could see every single day.

“That’s amazing!” She replied. “Would it be selfish to ask for one more too? My best friend is here and she likes you guys too-“

“Consider it done.” He smiled as she smiled back. “I’ll have my manager send them over to your trailer.”

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” She replied.

“It’s the least I can do. Returning the favor of watching your show and providing feedback.”

“Does that mean I need to take notes for yours and give them to you too?” She asked with a playful smile. Just now he noticed the water bottle in her hand with a straw as she took a sip and damn- he quickly erased all the dirty thoughts that rushed into his mind before it was too late.

“Only if you want to.” Where had this confidence in him come from? He didn’t even know. But right now it was working, and that was all that mattered. Yet again, his body thought before his mind as he said, “Give me your number and we can arrange a meetup. To, ya know, exchange notes and whatnot.”

She seemed flustered, but hid it well. However, the red blush growing on her cheeks and her face that froze yet again for a mere moment told him maybe she wasn’t all that good at this either. But hey, there was a learning opportunity for both of them, he supposed.

“Sure.” She said, as he grabbed his phone, handing it to her as she quickly typed it in.

Y/F/N Y/L/N it read on his screen, the line of numbers under it.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/F/N.” He smiled.

“You too-“ She said, but stopped herself. “I know your first name but I don’t want to say it before you do because that’s creepy.”

He let out a genuine laugh.

“Gerard.” He said.

“Gerard.” She replied. “I’ll see you later, Gerard.”

“So what you’re telling me is Gerard Way wants to fuck you?” Lacey asked her. But she supposed this is why people had best friends- to be both supportive, honest, and borderline crude all at the same time.

“I don’t know if he wants to fuck me-“

“He wants to ‘exchange notes’ on your shows? Code words for ‘come back to my trailer and let’s have sex’.” She said with confidence, sitting down and scrolling through her own phone as Y/F/N changed into a solid black hoodie and jeans to not make her presence obvious. Their show was not about her, and she hoped her presence wouldn’t make it about her.

“Well, I don’t just fuck guys. And I’ll be happy to tell him that if he tries. But he seemed very sweet, and all the interviews of him lean towards him being a very nice guy.” Y/F/N responded quickly, borderline defensive.

“Nice guys can have hookups too, ya know.” Lacey said. She wasn’t wrong, but Y/F/N swore this felt different.

“Regardless, that’s not happening with me.”

“Preach, sister.” Lacy said with a bit of pop in her voice. “If what you’re saying is true, it did sound like you have him wrapped around your finger.”

“We talked for like two minutes. I barely know him, he barely knows me.” Y/F/N rolled her eyes, expertly reapplying her lip gloss in a small mirror.

“Do you know that amount of men after your shows that would fall on their knees and beg for you?” Lacey asked, finally looking up from her phone to make eye contact in the mirror.

“Whatever.” Y/F/N sighed. “I’m just excited we have barricade to a My Chem show. How long have we been wanting to see them?”

“A solid year.” Lacey admitted, standing up to find her shoes. “I’m still not over Gerard Way wanting to fuck you, though.”

Y/F/N was sure rumors would be circulating by morning. As soon as she entered the VIP barricade area alongside Lacey, there was a sudden eruption of screams, and as she looked over a sea of phones were taking photos and videos of her. She gave a polite smile and wave before turning back around towards the stage, hoping as soon as the band got on the attention was going to divert away from her.

Damn her for thinking having a black hoodie on with the hood up would prevent this.

Within minutes though, as the lights on the stage went pitch black and screams from the entire crowd erupted she knew that finally she could just enjoy seeing a band she really liked play from right in front of her. Perks of being a pop star or whatever.

She had to admit that the in-person performance easily knocked any of the recorded ones she saw online out of the fucking park. And while Gerard Way had always been objectively attractive, and happened to be the skinny sad white boy that was her type for whatever reason, he looked really attractive in this light. Like a new skin of confidence took over him. Maybe it was the tight black skinny jeans or fake bullet proof vest with no shirt on under it that perfectly sculpted his lightly muscular arms- and damn the hands. Masculine hands were one of her weaknesses. And his very much fit into that category.

So did she have any notes after the show? No, actually. It was exactly what she had expected, but two fold. She was left amazed and energized as they walked off.

If he really wanted to compare notes with her he was going to be sorely disappointed in the lack of notes she had.

That night did not end with them sharing notes about the others show. Instead, it ended with them sitting on a grassy patch of the festival grounds when it emptied out talking about anything and everything. Gerard had quickly realized how multi-faceted of a person Y/F/N was. Every preconceived notion he had of her was torn down by her random knowledge about random things, her admissions to cringey teen phases she had, cute childhood stories, dichotomy of family and how difficult that could be to navigate.

She was fucking perfect inside and out. And he knew he couldn’t lose her.

In an assertive nature he decided to text her more through the next week. She was on tour in one town, and he was in another. But that didn’t matter. Every other day, or three days apart maximum, they would call from their hotel rooms, or from outside his bus, and talk. About everything. Their days, their histories. What they ate, what they did or didn’t like, who they saw, where they were next, what they wanted to do, asking the other about cool things to do in the city they were in for that day.

And finally, a little less than two weeks after they met, they had that talk.

“So what are we?” She asked over the phone, sitting on her bed and nervously picking at her brightly colored nails. She needed to know before she got too attached and her heart broken further down the line when she was way deeper in than she was now. Not that rejection now wouldn’t hurt- she was trying to save herself from more potential hurt later.

“Seeing each other?” He asked. “I mean, no pressure- we can always take it slower.“

“I would like for us to be ‘seeing each other’.” She replied with a smile growing on her face.

“Great, then we’re seeing each other.” He decided, she could hear the small smile in his own voice despite not seeing him.

“We have a four day break coming up.” He mentioned on a call. A few weeks had blown by, and things felt very normal between them given how abnormal their situation was.

“Okay.” She replied simply, wanting him to go on.

“I want to come see you, if that’s okay.”

“Okay.” She replied again, not hesitant- but a mixture of excited and logistically starting to play a mind puzzle about how this was going to work.

“Just okay?” He asked, now sounding more hesitant himself but equally as confused.

“No, I just mean- like, yes, please come, I really want to see you, but if people see us together again, I think it will kinda be obvious. I- it’s not that I don’t want to show you off, but I kinda like the direction we’re going in now. I don’t want public speculation or opinion to fuck that up.”

Even in a fucking baseball cap and sunglasses at her show, people would grow suspicious of that figure in the secluded family/friends area. They would equally as quickly figure out, judging by the firestorm online caused by her presence at their show the night they met, who it was. And then they would be official without actually saying anything. Just by being together.

She wouldn’t mind being official to the public, eventually. But she wanted more time to have just them to herself.

“I can stand off to the side behind the stage.” He offered.

“Your view is gonna suck.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay then.” She replied affirmatively.

“Okay?” He asked for clarification.

“Yes, okay.” She softly smiled with a giggle. “Come to the shows, I even have a hotel room booked one of the nights.”

“Oh fancy.” He replied with a chuckle. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

She shouldn’t have been nervous. He had seen her perform before.

Well once- the first time they met, and then twice on TV in the last few weeks since her career had managed to blow up even further. But this felt different. It was different.

She knew he could now have expectations of her. What if he didn’t like something, or got the ick from the way she danced or what if she fucked up? What if she tripped on stage for the first time or bumped into something or forgot a lyric or her voice went out-

“On in two.” She heard one of the stage techs say, peeking their head through her green room door. As if one queue, she heard a roar of screams from the direction of the stage, queueing that her little intro video had started. Despite still playing smaller venues, at least ones smaller than arenas, her label had actually been willing to put quite the production into her tour after realizing that her stage presence and personality was one of the things that charmed audiences so much.

She gave herself one final look over in the mirror. Her opening outfit was standard- a body con number decked out in black sequence with red accents and her infamous knee high boots that were plain leather, but that she had begun to notice were also being worn more commonly by fans to her shows. It was one of those trademark things that made her feel more like the pop star she was growing to be. At least the headlines called her that.

Taking her hands, she fluffed out her hair a bit more giving her light waves more volume, dropping them, closing her eyes, and reopening them in her stage persona.

She walked out of the door beginning her strut with the sense of confidence she only gained to this level when she knew she was going to be on stage. As she approached side stage, her bedazzled microphone with her initials on it in small rhinestones at the bottom was waiting for her with one of the stage assistance. She gave him a small smile and nod as a thank you, taking it delicately and wrapping her hand around it firmly.

Her in-ear monitored queued up with her sound guy, Jeremy, who gave her the 20 second warning. She allowed herself one final deep breath, realizing this was her time to shine. Even if he was here for the first time watching her as the guy she was seeing, and just generally in a new light, she recalled meeting him for the first time after a show, figuring if she could impress him once maybe she could do it again.

After all, the version of herself that managed to get his attention in the first place was the one who was about to step into the spotlight in a mere three seconds.

Sweaty, hot, tired, worn, happy. The best ways to describe how she felt almost every night coming off stage.

She felt great about this show. The crowds she was dealing with were getting better at each stop, she figured it was venues being sold out and her rapid growth as an artist that was to thank for their enthusiasm and their increased screaming of her own lyrics back to her.

But what made this show so special was seeing him in one of the boxes up and over from the crowd. He kept a low profile with a plain t-shirt and baseball cap, standing next to Lacey through the entire duration, but the occasional eye contact they made was what kept her going.

He was always at least smiling at her. If not he was beaming, or nodding, swaying to the music, and her favorite was when he was so focused on just her that she caught his lower lip being bitten, his eyes glued straight onto her. She knew she always had most if not all of the crowd in a trance- but tonight his attention was the one she really wanted.

She giggled at something her manager had said as they walked through the back hallways of the venue, sipping on her bottled water through a straw and trying to regain as much hydration and energy as possible. As the turned a corner toward the green room, she paused and gave a big toothy smile as she saw him at the end of the hallway.

There was Gerard, still in his relatively incognito outfit, and a full smile as their eyes met. As fast as she could manage to run in her boots, she made her way down the hall and collided with his torso, breaking out into a fit of giggles as he hugged her back.

“Did you like it?” She asked first, letting her chin fall on his chest as she looked up at him with big doe eyes hoping for a good answer.

“You fucking killed it.” He said affirmatively with a smile, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “You’re absolutely insane out there. Such a natural- fuck, I wish I had half the confidence and ability you do when I’m on stage.”

“Oh stop it!” She playfully and lightly hit his shoulder as she backed away to walk back to her room with him. In the process he swiftly grabbed her hand in his, intertwining their fingers which made her smile even more. “Don’t give yourself any less credit- you’re a fucking beast on stage.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the head.

“But nothing like you.” He replied, holding the door open for her as they entered back in so she could change.

She quickly and stealthily changed into a shirt and sweatpants, sitting down to take her makeup off, or at least that’s what she would typically do. But as she sat and looked at herself in the vanity mirror, catching a glimpse of him in the back scrolling on his phone, she wasn’t so sure she felt all that confident with him in person without all of this on.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, catching her in a trance. Damn, why did he have to be so good on picking up these things?

“Nothing.” She said with a soft smile. His body language with a raised eyebrow implied he definitely did not believe that. “I just- should I take my makeup off?” She asked turning to him. He gave her an even more confused look.

“Is it what you normally do?” He asked and she nodded. “Then yeah, take your makeup off.” She didn’t move, still staring at him. “Baby, what’s wrong- actually?” She groaned.

“It’s so stupid.” She admitted, now looking away from him. “I just- I don’t want you to like, I don’t know, not like me without this on.”

He looked a bit shocked and confused at look, but it quickly melted into sympathy.

“Sweetheart, take your makeup off.” He requited with a sweet tone. “I promise you, I will not view you any differently without makeup on. That is such a minor thing. And I’m not with you for your looks- I mean, you are fucking gorgeous- but that’s with or without makeup.”

“Fine.” She replied, grabbing some of her cotton pads and makeup remover, then going to town on delicately running them over her skin and cleaning everything off.

Once she was done, only a few minutes later, she grabbed her bag and regular shoes, slipping them on and getting up to approach him where he leaned next to the door. As soon as she was a few inches from him, he delicately took her face in his hands.

“See, just as gorgeous as always.” He softly smiled, giving her a soft and passionate kiss. She offered a sheepish smile and a growing blush on her cheeks.

“Thank you.” She nervously replied. “We gotta go though- I’m fucking starving.”

“Holy shit.” She said, taking another forkful of pasta and placing it into her mouth. “This is so fucking good.”

“Mhm.” He nodded in agreement taking a bite of his own. It was nice to have some company to actually eat with, and not just pull out her laptop to watch a show or call her parents who were halfway across the country. Now, she had her boyfriend laid across the bed sideways in front of her as she sat criss cross at the head.

“You want a bite?” She asked. He looked at her skeptical for a moment before nodding, allowing her to grab another few pieces, giving them to him.

“Well, shit.” He sighed with a smile. “That is fucking amazing.” She nodded in agreement. There was a brief moment of silence that followed.

“I hate that we have to go back to being, like- normal.” She said. It was one of those thoughts that just spilled out without her even thinking.

“Hm?” He asked, looking up with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Ya know, like being apart for so long.” She said with a tight smile. “We’ve barely spent any time together in person but every time we do I want to spend more and more- and we can’t.” He sighed, putting his fork down in his container.

“I know, baby.” He softly said, taking his now free hand and placing it on her bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. “But it’s only another month- then we’re on break and I’ll come be with you as long as you want.”

“Gee, you should get a break.” She said with a serious face. “You need to go home and settle for a few weeks and be with your family and friends there who you haven’t seen in fucking forever.” He shrugged.

“I’ve had all the time in the world to make relationships with them- I want to continue to build ours, and if that means going on tour with you than so be it.” He replied with confidence.

“Even if we do that people will speculate and- we would have to go public.” She explained.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, but,” She took a moment to think, making eye contact with him again as his eyes begged hers for answers. “I don’t want to keep you or us a secret. I would love to show and brag about my super cool, super talented, super hot boyfriend to the world, but I want to keep it private.” He smiled lightly and nodded.

“Then let’s do it.” He said, affirmatively. “We’ll take it at your pace. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

He had been on tour with her for a full week. And it was becoming unbearable how many things were circulating around.

It started at the first show he came to- a solid handful of people had noticed him and put a name to the face, despite his attempt to remain to himself. A small firestorm erupted online over the alleged rumors. The headlines abusing taboos and cliches of the “pop princess and rockstar” trope that made people go crazy.

Then he actually began coming on tour. She wasn’t sure she had been happier on any other leg of it, until he was there to watch every show, and take her out when she had breaks to his favorite spots in each city, and then end the night in her queen sized “suite” on the back of her bus if you could even call it that. She had even bought more storage bins for under the bed to make room for his things.

But people didn’t need to see all the stolen and sudden kissed, or hysterical fits of laughter, or constant touching that were soft reminders of the other. They didn’t need to know about all the photos they had taken of each other, or the memories made, or the lyrics and words that began filling her songbook as she wrote almost exclusively now about him. At least yet.

But on day nine of them being on her tour together, she couldn’t take the speculation anymore. She couldn’t ignore all the photos taken of him at her shows, or the videos that replayed her not-so-obvious smiles and slow hip movements while making direct eye contact with him. In all fairness, she wasn’t trying to hide it.

People could see moments and snippets of their love. But she wouldn’t let them see the whole thing.

“What d’you think?” She asked, the back of her head leaning against his shoulder as they both looked at her phone. It was a simple story draft for her Instagram of the two of them just a few nights ago walking into a gas station. Not the most romantic thing, but her makeup artist had managed to catch it at one of their stops late at night.

The lighting was perfect and almost vintage aesthetic, offering a slight blur to the photo. It was the two of them holding hands as they walked in, both with hoodies and sweatpants on. Only half her face was shown, brightly smiling up at him, and only the back of his head was shown as a mop of slightly messy slightly put-together black hair.

“I love it.” He said with a small smile, giving her a kiss on the top of the head. In the bottom corner she had just put a small black heart, meant to be a small clue.

“Okay,” She smiled. “I think I’m gonna post it.” She said, looking up at him. “You okay with this?”

“Of course.” He genuinely smiled back. “I don’t mind at all.”

Before she could second guess she hit the post button, immediately turning off her phone and throwing it to the edge of the bed.

“It’s done.” She said with big eyes and a giddy tone. “Like, we’ve confirmed.”

“Mhm,” He nodded with a small chuckle, “We have confirmed.” He leaned down to give her a soft kiss, not even a few seconds later his phone buzzed.

He reached over to grab it, smiling at the screen, and showing her.

I was wondering when you guys were gonna post something. Mikey had sent. It’s been fucking long enough.

She should’ve stopped staring after a few seconds, but she couldn’t help it. She rarely felt this confident in herself, but just as quickly as the adrenaline boost of self love hit her, the sobering of imperfections came knocking too.

Dressed in a long green strapless dress that was built to just fit her, she looked and felt like a Barbie. Her makeup team had really done quite an impressive and good number on her face, exemplifying all her good features perfectly, and covering up or minimizing the ones she didn’t like so much. Her hair hung in a low, sleek pony tail against her back, her nails for once long with extensions that would be removed for sure in the next two to three days.

“You’re absolutely perfect, ya know that?” She heard him, turning around to find her boyfriend with a big smile as one of his hands placed itself lightly on the small of her back. She softly smiled up at him, and he swore his heart skipped a beat and nearly sent him into cardiac arrest the way her big eyes stared right into his.

“Not necessarily, but thank you.” She responded in a small voice. She always got nervous before events- he learned that quickly after having to be on text and call standby as she repeated her own self-doubts while spiraling about things going wrong. No one would have ever known- her presence on carpets, stages, and everything in between was flawless.

And now here they stood for the first time together doing this. Him in a traditional and well-fit suit, her in the dress that would put anyone else wearing the color green to shame. He gave her one good look up and down (what was realistically the dozenth already), relishing in the fact that he was merely an accessory to her- and was blessed to be one at that.

There were already rumors circulating everywhere about the potential for them to show up together tonight. It was the ideal place to hard launch, and after dating for just over six months it finally felt like a good time to let the world see them together in all their glory. She was feeling more confident in him, and he was honestly just along for the ride- a very happy passenger too.

“How do we act?” She asked next, his hand still sat on her back as she leaned more into him so their bodies were no more than two inches apart.

“Like how we normally act.” He replied confidently. “I’m not sure anyone will be genuinely surprised- people have been expecting this.”

“When people set expectations about things they don’t know, it typically doesn’t work out the way they want.” She replied quickly.

He knew better than to ruin her hair or makeup, but at this moment he couldn’t see her for that, so he leaned in without hesitation and gave her a soft kiss as an attempt to calm her nerves.

“We’re not here to appease to anyone’s wants or expectations of us.” He explained in a tone just above a whisper, as if they weren’t the only two people in the room. “We’re here to be with each other- not to explain us.”

It was a relative blur, and she thanked the blinding lights of paparazzi that overtook her vision and senses as soon as they took a single step onto the carpet together. She had never heard the two of their names meshed together so many times in such a short period of time. It felt weird to hear them coming out together from other people’s mouths- but it also felt reaffirming.

His hand had initially snuck around her back, resting itself on the other side of her waist and pulling her close to him. The slight warmth from his body made her feel okay, an emotion she typically had to forcefully place at bay here but was tamed solely by him.

They gradually moved their way down at the instruction of the event staff, and narrowly at the last stop he leaned in to whisper to her, hiding his lips behind the back of her head to not let anyone get a chance to overhear what he was going to say.

“I think I have a new appreciation for my name when it’s next to yours.” He said with a small smile, pulling away and looking down at her.

She couldn’t help herself but to break out into a bigger smile, one that wasn’t posed for the cameras but more authentic. She usually hated her full smile, the cheekiness and roundness of her face making the pictures look unbearable to her, but in that moment it didn’t matter. She playfully nudged him a bit as he resumed his position with his arm around her waist, but this time she placed her hand on his chest, angling herself towards him.

He authentically smiled, not expecting it, and had to resist the urge running deep within him to kiss her. But no one here deserved to see that part of them- no one here deserved to know her like he did.

“New album stuff?” He asked, walking over to the living room with a “new” cup of coffee in his hands (this was his third refill in the last two hours). She nodded from where she sat on the floor, back against the bottom of the vintage arm chair she fell in love with and insisted on having to decorate their new place. Their place.

Gerard had always respected her boundaries with her music. She was being incredibly secretive about her upcoming project- despite it essentially being finished from what he had gathered- but he also knew incredibly well how labels worked. And despite both of them being in the industry, her upcoming album was expected to be gigantic. Both in the reception of it and in the work itself.

“They just began pressing all the vinyls.” She smiled up at him.

“When are you gonna see it?” He asked back, sitting down on the couch and leaning over the coffee table to grab his sketch book and pencils again.

“Hopefully within two weeks.” She shrugged. “That’s if everything goes right. Not that I think it won’t- there’s just… a lot.” He looked up for his eyes to meet her, giving her a sympathetic look and nod.

“Regardless of how it goes, you have worked your ass off for this.” He explained. “Critics will always say shit because they’re jaded and subjective. Most of them haven’t even made music. And your fans are gonna love anything you put out.” She softly smiled back.

“Thanks.” She said. “I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

“Don’t you have the entire record on your computer?” He asked, eyeing the laptop that sat in her lap. She rolled her eyes.

“It’s not that simple.” She replied, closing it and getting up. “Besides, I want it to be a surprise.” She finished, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“So are you flattered or what?” Their manager approached where he sat on the bus. He was so lost in the trance of finding the necklace that she had been dying to get for ages online as a surprise album release gift that he didn’t hear a thing.

“Hm?” He asked looking up at him.

“You’re the muse for the number one song on Billboard right now.” His manager replied with a small smile, arms crossed over each other.

“Right.” He awkwardly responded.

He was, indeed, the quite obvious muse for her first single, which happened to somehow skyrocket on the charts as soon as it released and within a few days was impossible not to hear. Whether it be radio, playlists, grocery stores, social media- the damn song was everywhere.

By no means was he upset, he just wasn’t expecting it. He was actively figuring out how to deal with the amount of empty and comical threats he got from fan accounts saying they were fully prepared to fight him if it meant even a shot at being with her. Also, while he had approved of the lyrics she had showed him (well, specifically the incredibly, borderline obvious, suggestive ones) it still made him feel a blush grow on his face when he heard them over and over again.

And the fucking cherry on top was the music video. At this point, he had seen her in many different ways, doing many different things (if you catch the drift) but as soon as he watched it he felt like he was falling for her all over again, ten-fold this time. It also made him begin to seriously question why the fuck you were with him, and simultaneously wonder if all the manifesting bull shit the merch girl was telling them about was something he should look into given that he needed some form of magic to get someone so out of his league.

“Good luck when the album drops, man.” His manager smiled, “Can’t wait to see all the teenage girls that want to band together and fight you.”

Gerard didn’t drink anymore and hadn’t for a while. But he did stare with a smile as she took a shot of tequila and her face immediately grew into a sour and twisted expression.

“Fuck that was worse than I remember.” She said through a small cough, grabbing the water by her and downing a chunk of it.

The low-key album release party was being held at their place. It was primarily close friends, the one producer she worked with on the record and her engineer, then the band as well as some of Gerard’s friends. Despite it being small, the place was buzzing under the dimmed lighting as there was consistently multiple conversations happening in the background, solid laughter mixed in too, and her album playing track by track in order softly in the background.

She sat on the floor, back against the couch, in a simple shirt and jeans, him right behind and next to her sat on the couch. She wasn’t drunk, but was definitely tipsy as she laid her head on his jean clad knee. He looked down at her with a smile, running a hand through her loose hair.

“I love you so much.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for being such an incredible muse.”

He had been complimented plenty of times by critics, reporters, fans- but nothing even came remotely close to that comment.

“Baby, this is all you.” He insisted with a smile back. “We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t so damn incredible at everything you do.”

She sighed happily, closing her eyes for a moment.

“I’m so fucking glad you bumped into me.” She said. “I was so pissed at first and so tired and hot and sweaty- I thank the universe everyday for making that happen.”

“I do too, sweetheart.” He said, letting his smile melt into a sincere and content one. It only felt right. “I do too.”

[cryingisnecessaryfanfics]

PART TWO

Its 2am have more scar headcannons/imagines

Characters: Razor(platonic), Kaeya, Xiao, Tighnari

Sorry these are probs subpar cuz my writing style varies depending on the bpd mood lmao. Bear with the redundancy of these, there are only so many ways to write the same action.

If youre the anon who sent me an ask im replying to your ask with the inverse you talked about. Stay tuned <3 (its probably gonna take another 6 months but welp)

Not spell checked or proof read sorry lol

Razor (platonic)

Wolf boy has a lot of scars as we can all tell. I feel like he probably doesnt get the point of lotion. Probably says it smells bad, like chemicals. His scars are all really improperly healed. Probably has keloid scars (overproduction of scar tissue). The sheer size of the ones on his arms lead me to believe he never got stitches or bandages of any sort, which makes sense considering his story. Regardless, that shit looks painful lmao. (Lighthearted imagine to start us off)

“Razor!” You yell, damn that kid was way faster than you. You nearly trip over a log as you run after him.

“Razor, stop running dammit.” You continue to shout after him, hoping anything you say might just make him slow down. Lord knows you could never catch up to him.

“It's just lotion. It'll make you feel better!” Your lungs start to sting from the chase and your legs drag behind you. You stop to catch your breath and Razor slows down in front of you.

He approaches you slowly like he's afraid you’ll catch him if he gets too close. “Smells bad,” he says and you all but roll your eyes.

“Sometimes things that are good for us smell bad.” You explain. Razor waits for your breathing to even out before he gets within arms reach of you.

“Like soap?” He says and you laugh at the memory of trying to get him to wash himself with soap instead of the occasional dip in the river.

“Yes, like soap.” You sigh and he frowns. Tentatively he holds out his arm, he looks at you expectantly.

“Finally.” You say under your breath and open the bottle of lotion. You can practically feel Razor's eyes watch your hands cautiously. He doesn't move as you spread some against the skin of his arm.

“Cold.” He comments and you huff a little laugh.

“See.” You say when you finish. “Feels better right?”

Razor finally relaxes and smiles at you. “Yes.”

You're just glad he stopped running.

Kaeya

Not gonna go the obvious way and say his eyepatch because I'm different lmao. I think his knuckles are scarred. I think kaeya seems like the type to cope with his feelings through violence. I think kaeya probably hates himself. When everything gets to be too much he just starts coming out swinging. The kind of person who punches a wall without really thinking about it. But yeah I think he used his fists too much when he was younger and now he wears the fingerless gloves to protect/cover the scars. (Sorry if this is weird or seems ooc, it just makes sense to me idk why)

You first see them when he gets the new outfit in sumeru. Everyone around you seems to disregard them, or maybe just not notice. But you can sense the way he subtly hides the scars, the way he walks with a hand behind his back, one covering the other. Its easy to not notice if you arent always watching closely. Maybe the only reason you noticed was because you seemed to always be staring at him. Kaeya catches you looking more than once and in typical kaeya fashion he deflects with flirting or jokes.

Later, when youve returned home to mondstat you ask him about it and he explains after some persistence.

“Its nothing to be shameful of.” You murmur, a hand holding his, looking at the dry scar tissue.

“Its one thing to have scars from braving a battle, a complete other thing to have them from your own stupidity.” He looks away from you and the eye you can see seems far away. Like he’s recalling something from his past.

“But it wasnt stupid, it was a way to cope. How can anyone think of something like that as not brave?” He doesnt answer you, only frowns slightly, a face youve never seen him make. “Do you atleast take care of them?”

He still doesnt respond. You sigh, exasperated, and pull out your endless bag of goods to find a lotion to help with the dryness.

“What are you doing?” He asks, and you all but cringe at the thought of him not knowing you have to moisturize scars.

“I’m helping you.” You half expect him to make a witty comment but the situation proves to be too heavy and he goes back to staying silent. The whole act goes without words, you spread the lotion over his knuckles, rub it in gently. He doesnt say anything until you slide his gloves back on.

“Thank you.” He says and before you can say anything back he adds, “For your actions and your words.”

You press a kiss to one of his gloved hands. “Your welcome.” You thnk you see his cheeks tint the slightest shade of red before hes back to normal again.

“And here I thought I was the romantic.”

Xiao

I always liked the images of the karmic binds/shackles so I like to imagine his wrists are scarred from straining(?) those too much. I mean considering Xiao is an Adeptus physical wounds wouldn't leave a scar so maybe these more mental-type wounds would. Like the more karmic debt he has the worse the scars get in condition, the less debt the more they fade. Maybe the lotion helps soothe the debt more than anything. Maybe the act of something so comforting and intimate with you lessens the pain. Food for thought I guess.

Every morning, at dawn, Xiao enters a room in Wangshu Inn so his lover can put lotion on his scars. This morning is no different.

“Good morning, Xiao.” You say like always, same pretty smile on your face every day.

“Morning,” Xiao mumbles and frowns as if this isn't his favorite part of the day. He avoids your eyes as he takes off his gloves. As many times as youve seen his wrists, he still gets insecure about them. It's no secret Xiao hates being vulnerable, even around his most trusted companion.

“I saw zhongli yesterday.” You say quietly as he sits down on the bed next to you, lotion in hand. “He was with that harbinger.”

“Tch. Useless scum.” Xiao comments and you laugh.

“He seemed happy, Xiao. Try to be tolerant of his friend.” Xiao just rolls his eyes and rests his arm in your hand. You continue to talk about your day as you open the bottle of lotion and start to spread it out against his wrist.

Xiao stays quiet during this, as he always does. You think he must enjoy your voice because he's always been intent on listening to you speak even if he usually prefers silence. He absorbs your words so soaked in affection and the ache in his body seems to lessen. Pain becomes distant, horrible and intense feelings become easier to push away.

It's over before he realizes it, you've put the lotion away simply holding his hand now, savoring the feeling of his skin against yours. He leans against you and you hum in content.

Maybe this is healing for the both of you. Mutual comfort.

Tighnari

I know a lot of people like the idea of him having scars from getting struck by lightning so i'm just gonna play off of that. Lighting very rarely leaves scars but the scars it does leave are burns. The electricity also causes nerve damage so you'd have to be very gentle and careful when handling tighnari’s scars. They're probably on his neck/back so itd take a lot of trust for him to let you see him so vulnerable. He probably already has lotion he puts on himself but its very hard to reach your own back so eventually he asks you for help.

You've seen him put lotion on his scars many times, watched him wince at the pain of it. You refrain from asking him if he wants your help. Tighnari is independent, he doesn't need anyone's help. But maybe itd be less painful if he didn't have to strain his muscles to reach the scars.

He doesn't say much when he asks the first time. Just tells you to be careful. He starts to list the ingredients of the lotion he's made. How he found it, what the weather was like that day.

No matter how gentle you were he’d still pause in the middle of sentences, and with his back to you, you never saw his winces but you knew they were there.

“Okay,” you say when you've finished and you know he's relieved it's over even if it was a more pleasant experience than him doing it himself.

But he thanks you anyway, and he’ll ask you to do it again the next day.

[imhidingfromschool]

Professor- Nanami

WC: 3,329

TW: uhhhh n/sfw? use of words like doll and good girl? idk, kinda public, prof/student relationship

AN: This was a request I did on my wattpad, it isn’t proof read 😋

His warm hand slides up my shirt, warming my icy skin. I can barely hold in a moan as he grinds against my throbbing heat. His gentle eyes stare at me with such love that I can't help but give myself to him.

"[Y/N]?? Hello are you with us [Y/N]?" Your teacher Nanami Kento calls out, snapping you from your not so innocent day dream.

Your face burns red, no way you just had some weird sex fantasy about your teacher...mid-class?! You stand up from your seat and grab your text book, preparing to read.

"No, no need to read [Y/N], you just seemed...distracted. I have a low tolerance for daydreamers." He says causing your blush to deepen. You immediately sit back down, hearing some of your classmates snicker.

When the bell finally rings you begin to pack up your bag. Of course with your shitty luck you spill your pencil case and end up staying later than your other classmates.

Finally when you get your stuff together you head towards the door. You can't even make eye contact with your teacher, the embarrassment is too much to bare.

"Wait [Y/N] come here for a moment please." You hear Mr. Nanami call out. You stop in your tracks and slowly turn around. You mentally prepared yourself for the scolding you were about to receive.

"Yes sir?" You ask, still avoiding eye contact with him.

"I was just wondering if everything's alright? You've seem to be spacing out more and more often in class. I'm just worried about you." He says while placing a gentle hand onto your shoulder.

Honestly you were shocked, Nanami Kento was famous for his harsh punishments. You once heard a rumor that he kicked a student out of his class for dropping a pencil!

You stare into his warm eyes, they're so different from his normal piercingly cold ones. Fuck, this man has no idea what he's doing to you. If it wasn't so taboo you would have already made a move. You're both adults so what does it matter?

No! That's only the horny talking, you know you can't hit on your teacher! You think to yourself, trying to snap yourself out of your lewd thoughts.

"Ah I'm sorry sir, recently my parents have been going through a divorce and things have just been weird. Especially with my father, we've never been especially close." You say to him, technically it wasn't a lie, you and your father had always had a...strained relationship to say the least.

"Okay, just let me know if you need anything." He says and you quickly thank him before scurrying out of the room.

Your friend is waiting for you outside with a smirk plastered across her face.

"So how was getting chewed out by the infamous Nanami Kento. I'm sure that crushed your little crush on him." She says with a wink that causes your blush to return.

You made the mistake of telling your friend about your crush on your Professor. She constantly teases you about it.

"Actually he was super sweet and understanding. He said that I could go to him if I needed anything." You say with a soft smile, thinking back on his warm touch.

Later that night when you finally get to your dorm your friend plops right down onto her bed and passes out.

You envied her carefree nature, she was naturally so smart. You sat down at your desk and opened your textbook to your assigned homework. You sighed, your one little not so innocent day dream set you back way farther than you thought.

You were already struggling but now it felt like everything was in a different language! Nothing was making sense and your grades were already slipping.

You tapped your head against your desk, you needed to start getting more serious. Grades would be sent home soon and your dad would not be okay with any of these.

Slowly you open your lap top and start your intense study session. You watch several youtube videos and read several articles. After all of that you still felt like you only understood a fraction of the lesson.

Unfortunately the sun had already begun to rise. Panic immediately sets in as you realize you went the whole night without sleeping.

The next few weeks are a blur of trying to improve your grades but miserably failing. You try to ask your roommate for help but she's terrible at explaining.

"Just do it! I don't get what you don't understand [Y/N], just go through these four steps!" She insists but it never gets through your thick skull.

Finally the day has arrived, the day you have been dreading for the last few weeks. The day that your grades get released to your parents.

You knew your mother wouldn't care, she was always so supportive. She knew you were doing your best and that was enough for her.

On the other hand your father was cruel, always has been and probably always will be. He would send you harsh messages, and scream at you for the slightest failures. If it wasn't first then it was last to him.

Shockingly enough it had been two days since grades had been released and nothing. No messages, missed calls, or even voicemails. Maybe he had missed it, either way you were relieved. Until it happened.

DING

Your phone lights up with a message from none other than your father. You stare down in horror, you know the worst is about to happen.

[Daughter],

I'm not just disgusted; I'm questioning how someone I raised could sink so low. You've not only let me down; you've shattered any pride I had in being your parent. It's shameful to be associated with the poor decisions you're making. Your recent behavior is beyond disappointing; it's utterly shameful. Your choices not only reflect a profound lack of character but also make me question the values I thought I had instilled in you. Frankly, associating with someone displaying such a flagrant disregard for decency is nothing short of humiliating.

Revulsion,

[Your Father]

You stare down at the message in shock, he didn't even bother to use your name. You quickly run into a nearby classroom, trying to hide the tears that have begun to well up in your eyes.

You collapse, leaning against the wall and falling to the floor. Tears begin to pour out of your eyes as you reread the message. After that paragraph he continued to send more harsh messages, messages that you couldn't even repeat out loud.

CLICK

Your eyes shoot up to the door to your left. You thought you had stumbled into an unused classroom but you realized a little too late that you're in your math professors room.

"[Y/N]?" You hear a familiar voice call out. Your eyes widen in horror, it's Mr. Nanami.

Quickly you scramble to your feet. You try to wipe away your tears but there's no hiding the red rim around your eyes and puffy face.

"Ah I'm sorry, I didn't realize this was your classroom Sir." You say with a quick bow, swiftly walking towards the door.

"Wait-" He says, grabbing your wrist gently and spinning you around. You fall forward into his chest from the quick movement.

Your face irrupts into flames from the close proximity and you slowly take a step back. His face is unreadable and the two of you just stand there in silence for a moment.

Finally he breaks the silence."Are you okay?" He says slowly reaching for your face, rubbing a stray tear away with his thumb. Your eyes widen in shock, the man in front of you who is known for being cruel is being so unbelievably gentle.

"Mr. Nanami-"

DING

That one noise was enough to send you reeling. It was like you lost all control of your body as the grief washed back over you. Your head falls against his chest and he quickly wraps his arms around you.

"[Y/N] what's going on? Talk to me please." He says while rubbing circles into your back. It takes you a second to catch your breath and realize who arms you're in.

"Omg I'm sniff so sorry Mr. sniff Nanami!" You speak out between sobs, trying to pull yourself together.

"Don't worry [Y/N] you're safe, let it out." He says, pulling you back into the safety of his arms. You sob into his arms while he gently caresses your hair, the size difference between you two being incredibly present.

"Good girl, just like that." The innocent words caused your face to engulf into flames, your tears beginning to slow.

Eventually your sob comes to a complete stop and you slowly step away, begrudgingly leaving the warmth of his arms.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Nanami it's just some family issues, I really shouldn't have reacted like this, I'm so sorry." You begin to apologize profusely, embarrassment kicking in.

"It's really no problem [Y/N], I'm here whenever you need." He says with the softest smile ever. Your heart nearly skips a beat before you scurry away.

Over the next couple of weeks you avoid Nanami like the plague. Quickly leaving class as soon as the bell rings. The embarrassment from your pathetic actions have truly stared to get to you.

Unfortunately today you couldn't rush out as fast as usual. You were taking a math exam when the bell rang, and you hadn't finished.

"Ah, sorry, Mr. Nanami I didn't finish." You say with an adorable pout.

"I'm staying after school today, if you'd like the come finish it later." He says, glancing up from his desk briefly to address you.

"That would be great, thank you Mr. Nanami!" You say with an enthusiastic smile, trying to ignore your pounding heart.

Finally the time has come, your last period has ended and it's time to head back to your math room.

Your heart is practically leaping out of your chest, just you and Nanami, alone together. Considering the fact that there's also a near by basketball game the school will be practically empty.

knock knock

"Hello Professor? It's me [Y/N], I'm here to finish my test." You say sheepishly, the door slowly opens and you're met with Nanami gazing down at you.

The two of you just stare at each other for a long moment before Nanami clears his throat, stepping aside. You thank him before heading inside and sitting at your usual desk.

He gives you your test back and the two of you sit in comfortable silence as you work through the unanswered questions.

"Shit" You huff under your breath. You couldn't remember the equation you had to use for this specific word problem.

The way it was worded was similar to another equation. You knew it wasn't that but you just couldn't for the life of you remember what it was.

"Hm?" Nanami hums out, standing over your shoulder, watching your struggle against mathematics. You startle slightly, you hadn't even heard him stand up.

"Use the Pendulum Formula." He whispers as if someone else was in the room, someone waiting to bust through the door and yell at him for giving away answers.

You look over your shoulder, making eye contact with him. He was so close you could practically feel his breath on your face.

The tension was so thick you could practically taste it. His eyes on your lips and yours on his, you knew it was wrong, but was it really that bad?

Within seconds his lips are attached on yours. Your arms fly up, desperately grabbing at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

You don't even notice as he picks you up off of your chair, seating you on his desk. Your to focused on him, and the taste of his sweet lips.

Neither of you could get enough, your legs wrapping around his waist, him grinding against your clothed pussy.

Begrudgingly the two of you pull apart, gasping for air. His head falls onto your shoulder, arms tightening around your figure, you were so small compared to him, practically caged between his arms.

"W..We should stop." He huffs out, but you knew that was the last thing he wanted, you could tell from the large bulge rubbing against your inner thighs. He wanted this just as badly, if not more than you did.

"I know, but I really don't want to." You say, tightening your grip on his hair and pulling him back into a sloppy kiss.

His hands roam your body, sliding his warm hands under your shirt, sending shivers down your spine.

His hands take little time making their way up to your breasts, pulling your bra down but not off. Leaving your breasts exposed to the cold air, your nipples immediately hardening.

You don't just sit there idly while he toys with you, you're making quick work of his belt. Quickly undoing it and unzipping his pants.

You slide your hand inside, against his clothed heat, still being protected by his underwear.

The two of you pull away from each other once more, though this time it's for the sole purpose of undressing. Immediately you reach for the hem of your shirt, yanking it up and over, leaving your perky nipples on complete display.

He groans at the sight, barely being able to focus on the small buttons that line his shirt. You take pity on the man and help him out.

Your breath nearly gets stuck in your throat as you watch him take off his shirt, teasingly slow. His chiseled body on complete display all for you.

Gently he clears his desk, gently pushing you down on the now cleared area. He hovers over you, so large you can't even tell that he's still standing.

He starts with your lips leaving feather light kisses down to your jaw, your throat, and your collarbone. When he gets to your breasts he pauses for a moment before kitten licking your right nipple.

Your legs squeeze around his waist at the feeling, letting out a moan that sounded more like a squeak. His right hand comes up, sliding across your thigh all the way up to your left nipple, making sure it's receiving the same attention.

It was heavenly, but it wasn't what you wanted, no needed what you needed was him, all of him.

"P-Please Nanami, I w-wanna feel you." You barely manage to squeak out, moaning in between syllables.

He unlatches from your chest with a pop before moving back up to kiss you. The kiss only momentarily distracted you from his quick fingers.

You felt your belt loosen and your pants unbutton and in what felt like a mere second you were just in your panties.

He pulls back to take a look at you, completely flushed with you bra unceremoniously pull down, your arm placed on your forehead and you pretty pink panties with a noticeable wet spot.

Fuck he could almost cum just from the sight of you. You watch his every move, desperate for him to touch you, anywhere at this point.

He wanted to take his time, he wanted to make love to you, show you that he really did care about you and this wasn't just some one night stand, but after seeing you so desperate for him he knew that'd have to wait for another day.

Swiftly he slides his underwear down, allowing his dick to spring free, practically slapping his stomach. The tip was flushed red, precum practically drowning out.

Carefully and slowly he aligns himself with your entrance, practically teasing you as he slides himself through your folds a few times, mixing both of your fluids together, creating plenty of slick.

You reach up, wrapping you arms around his neck, pulling him down into a passionate kiss as he slowly, painstakingly slowly enters you.

The two of you pant and mewl into the kiss, both completely blissed out from the feeling. Your warm velvety walls are sucking him in so nicely, you're so fucking tight he can barely handle it, and fuck he fills you up so nicely, the stretch feeling more pleasurable than you could've imagined.

The two of you take a moment to catch your breath before he begins to move, but it's not enough. He's going to slow, to sensual, what you need is for him to fuck you, have you seeing stars.

"M-More, fffffuckkk, Nanami harder please." You moan out, squeezing around him.

"F-Fuck, whatever you say Doll." He says and the nickname only causes your heart to flutter and your pussy to beg for more.

Oh and does he deliver. He grabs either side of your hips, holding you securely in place as he pounds into you. When he finds your prostate he practically abuses the squishy area.

He's groaning and huffing above you, trying his absolute hardest to hold out, to not cum on the spot from your warm walls.

As he feels his release approaching one of his hands snake down to rub at your throbbing flit. Your legs wrap around him, somehow even tighter as you let out a whiny moan, pleasure hitting you.

"F-Fuck, I'm almost there." He groans out and he can tell you are too, he can tell by the pulsations, your pussy practically sucking him in deeper.

Without any warning he pulls out and you whine, your hole grasping at nothing. The empty feeling making you whine out in disagreement.

He doesn't make you wait long though, plunging two fingers inside of you. Mercilessly fingering you and practically abusing your clit with his skilled younger.

He has you cumming in mere minutes, but the two of you aren't done yet, no he still hasn't cum. Without even letting you catch your breath after you intense orgasm he pulls your practically limp body off of his desk and onto the floor.

You sit down, staring at him with glazed eyes. Your mouth practically watering at the sight of his dick, it's practically crying for your help.

You spare little time, wrapping your soft delicate fingers around the base and gently licking the tip. He groans, "fuck please, don't tease me."

You smile at his politeness and decide to listen, taking him in your mouth. He's huge and you're practically choking but it's exhilarating. Your heart is racing and your pussy is dripping from excitement.

Your hollowing your cheeks, humming on his dick, swirling your tongue around the tip. You're giving this man the sloppiest fucking head ever and he's enjoying every minute.

Gently intertwining his fingers into your hair and practically fucking your throat with his cock. "Fuck just like that, who's my good girl? You're doing so good for me baby."

When he starts to twitch in the back of your throat you know he's close. That only encourages you to speed up, bobbing your head up and down, staring up at him through tears, not breaking eye contact for even a second.

That was the last straw, he felt something snap and he was gone, shooting warm streams of milky white cum down your throat. You're practically choking on his cock but that doesn't stop him from holding you in place.

"You can take it for me, I know you can, you take me so well princess." He groans out as you work him through his orgasm.

Finally he releases your hair and you slide him out of your throat with a pop. Quickly he leans down to pull you up and into a tight hug.

You return without hesitation, leaning your head on his chest, but he wasn't done. No this was just the beginning.

He gives you a moment to regain your composure before he's bending you over his desk, ass out and ready to be fucked.

[dekusleftsock]

Y’all reading the newest chapter scans is like whiplash

I forgot how unhinged he can be, and tbh how much more unhinged he’s currently being.

Anyway Izuku is my favorite character so, sorry y’all, I know everyone is excited about Katsuki

However. Everyone else can talk about Katsuki. I live on my scraps.

Love how Shigaraki tries to get a dig at Izuku about Katsuki like how Monoma did when he unlocked blackwhip, so his immediate reaction is diverge diverge diverge.

Talk about repressed but this is a whole new level.

And his eye bags, they just make him look so exhausted.

I said this before but the chapter after Katsuki woke up Izuku looked relieved to me yes, but also… very scared. Very afraid of Katsuki’s well being.

Especially since, if we compare what Katsuki is doing now (using the pain as an extension of his quirk), you could EASILY COMPARE to when Izuku unlocked danger sense with shigaraki. How concerned and afraid Katsuki was in those chapters.

The thing is though, Katsuki was honest. He was honest that Izuku shouldn’t be doing this on his own, he’s being honest now—“I’m Kacchan of the Bakugou’s!”

He knows how he’s feeling and he’s letting himself feel it.

Somehow, Izuku still isn’t.

Hell, when afo ignores Katsuki, what he does is laugh about how much pain he’s in, but that it’s the key.

Let’s compare how Katsuki is using pain to how Izuku is using pain with danger sense. Let us not forget, danger sense is a physically taxing quirk, much like the rest of ofa. It causes a migraine when in any immediate danger.

Idk about y’all, but I get migraines so bad sometimes I vomit from the buildup of pressure. I can’t focus on anything. I just cant really imagine Izuku using danger sense that well in a fight… yet he does.

And, what exactly is danger sense for? To get out of danger? Maybe to avoid the danger? Ofa is an extension of Izuku’s inner turmoil, every single quirk exhibits this, and it would make so. Much. Sense. For danger sense to mimic his avoidance of emotions and vulnerability.

Katsuki’s quirk as it is now uses pain in a very odd way to me—he doesn’t try to use it to exit himself from the danger or pain, but actively searches for it. The pain is the key.

Danger sense is also a relatively self serving quirk, only really useable for himself. And for him to reference danger sense of all his quirks rn, it would make sense since…

Izuku has been self serving and avoidant since before even this fight. Hell, before even the war arc. Maybe this has gone on his entire life.

I want to hit him so bad for this y’all don’t GET IT.

And, just so we all know, he did this in 348 too. When confronted with emotional conversations, his first thought will always be “but how’s the fastest way I can win this fight?”

MY PROOF YALL IM SO DONE WITH THIS DUDE

“You see I have never once thought about hurting the people I care about like that!” Okay maybe be less boring

HM I WONDER WHY

THATS SO CRAZY DEKU

YOU TELL ME

WHY IS THE GIRL WHO YOU REJECTED AND THEN SAID THAT HER WAY OF LOVING IS SOMETHING YOU COULD NEVER DO TO OTHER PEOPLE (ALSO IMPLYING JUDGEMENT IN THIS STATEMENT), SAD RIGHT NOW?

LETS USE SOME COMMON SENSE PLEASE

I’m hyped for when Izuku is forced to be honest y’all don’t understand. It’s gonna be an angst fest and it’s gonna be romantic and I literally can’t see it not heading down the “explicitly canonical” path.

[hardbeingcasual]

NEVER BEEN WORSE! / PETER PARKER

♪ DELICATE, TAYLOR SWIFT / MARVEL MASTERLIST / MASTERLIST

pairings. mcu! peter parker x reader

warnings. mentions of wounds idk

summary. peter isn’t so good at keeping secrets from you.

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Peter Parker was not good at secrets, but he was good at hiding his web slinging identity didn’t he?

Or so he thought.

He had no idea you have known about his secret identity for weeks. Every time he had shown up to class, he had an extra bruise under his eye. He just blamed it on him being clumsy, which you believed for a while.

That’s until Peter showed up one day with cuts allover his face, your suspicions started to increase.

Then you caught onto his act. Why was his skin all scraped and bloody all the time? Every time you guys had plans did he ended up making some lame excuse. You thought he wanted nothing to do with you, you thought he didn’t want to he your friend anymore.

But you connected the dots, him acting suspicious and sneaking off, whenever you went over to his Aunt Mays he was never there. Both him and Ned acting weird whenever you walk over to them mid conversation, it made so much sense.

Currently you were in your room, at your desk with Peter next to you, you were both studying for a test in a few but if you were being completely honest you weren’t studying at all, you were clicking your pen constantly which raised Peter’s suspicion.

“You okay?” He asks, eyeing you carefully.

You don’t reply, but you drop your pen onto your desk and spin your chair round to look at him. “Were ever going to tell me?” You question.

“…Tell you what?”

You lean closer to him, to whisper so your parents didn’t overhear your conversation. “That you’re Spider-Man.”

Peter started stuttering at your words, “What? I’m not Spider-Man, what makes you think that?”

“The sneaking off, the bruises, the cuts and scratches you always have on your cheekbones. I notice every detail about you, even if it’s the tiniest thing.” You confess, your eyes never leaving his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to get hurt, I don’t want anything happening to you if I told you.” He apologises, running his hands through his hair as he stands up, you following after him.

You hesitate for a moment before placing your hands on both of his cheeks, Peter’s hands going to your shoulders. “The only thing thats hurting me is you keeping secrets from me.”

“I’m sor—” You shake your head, stopping him from apologising.

“Don’t apologise.”

“Sor- I almost done it there again.” He laughs making you join him. Too caught up in the moment you both never realised how closer to eachother you got. You could feel his breath on your face making your face flush the colour of his Spider-Man suit.

“Can I—” You never let him finish his sentence again, nodding quickly.

Peter captures your lips with his, you swore you felt a surge of electric glide from his mouth into yours. Its slow, but passionate. He’s patient with you, one of his hands moving to your waist and one of your hands moving to his neck.

You both pulled apart catching your breath as you leaned your forehead against his, making him wince.

You panic slightly, “Whats wrong?”

You move the hair from his forehead, seeing a purple bruise on his forehead. “It’s okay.” He tries to assure you.

You kiss the part of the temple where he had the bruise, making him smile at you. It’s like his pain went away.

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#NOTES even she (me) was weirded tf out 😭😭😭😭😭 / not proof read i’m 2 tired to read over it , it is 4:30 am