#not when you talk about how it’s just been going downhill and getting worse and Dawntrail is an omen of the end and so on and so forth

[mimiyanna]

Don’t fuck with us FFXIV Fans- We don’t even like the game.

[rosicheeks]

Unfortunately relatable. I grew up in the church and have a lot of Christian trauma from that. I show up for special occasions for my parents… sometimes. But it’s uncomfortable from the moment I step through the door. Bigoted pastor, the self-righteousness disguising the prejudice, the political comments from the altar. Shots at young people left right and center as if the hell on earth wasn’t caused by the same older generation 90% of the congregation belongs to..

I miss being young in the choir and the youth groups and not struggling with it. It’s wild to look back at the younger version of me who was unshakeable in his faith and honestly just saddening.

I was texting my sister today about it and she said

“I 100% think ALL of us have a ton of religious trauma and everyone else in the family just doesn’t realize it cause they’re still drinking the kool-aid.”

I ran out of tag room and didn’t want to delete any 😭 seriously not lying I could write a book about all my thoughts and experiences

[demonpiratehuntress]

clowns

taglist - @kabloswrld

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

summary - clowns are terrifying, and your first encounter with one leaves you traumatised. lucky for you, you have a big strong swordsman as a boyfriend.

warnings - CLOWNS (yes they should ALWAYS be a warning and yes Buggy scares me), you and Zoro are/were both pirate hunters

a/n - i count myself lucky i don't have circuses where i live, because if i ever see a clown i will run the other way

Not only did you not expect to join a pirate crew, but you far from thought your first encounter as a "crew" would be facing your worst nightmare.

The minute you saw the bright red nose and funny make-up, you stiffened. Your eyes went wide and you became unresponsive, like you couldn't hear them talking or feel Zoro's subtle protective touches. You were too focused on the clown in front of you, terrified to your core.

"What's wrong with her?" Buggy noticed your stare, and waved his hand in front of your face. "Can she hear me?"

Zoro growled and put himself between you and the clown pirate, "Eyes on me, Binky." He knew that wasn't the clown's name, but Luffy's mistake would serve him well in getting Buggy's attention off you.

Sure enough, the clown scowled and looked at him, "Buggy! It's not that hard to remember!"

You were relieved that the clown was no longer focusing on you, but just the sight of him was rattling you to your core. While he was distracted, you took it as your opportunity to turn and run.

Now let it be said that you do not run easily from anything. You and Zoro were pirate hunters, or had been until you'd been roped into this, and you had faced some nasty, dangerous threats. You were hardened, and almost nothing shook you.

Except clowns.

Funny how the one thing you steered clear of found you first the moment you aligned yourself with others.

Before you could get far, some of his circus freaks grabbed you and brought you back. The clown was still talking about himself, but chuckled when his goons brought you back into the tent.

"What's wrong, pirate hunter?" He sneered. "Scared?"

"Hey!" Luffy beat Zoro this time, "Leave her alone."

And things went downhill from there.

You were, for some reason, separated from the group. So was Luffy, but that's because Buggy was interrogating him. Nami and Zoro had been escorted somewhere else, leaving you on your own in another side room, panicking and growing more and more nauseous. To make matters worse, Luffy started screaming from wherever he was.

A while later, the clown walked into your room.

Your eyes went wide, and you struggled against the rope holding you to the wooden beam.

"I'm surprised," he spoke, "You have a reputation that made even some of my men nervous. And yet...you can't even look me in the eye." He stopped right in front of you, "Why's that?"

You tried your best to look away, turning your head sideways and finding something else to focus on. You couldn't speak, and you were trembling. Nothing had ever shaken you like this, ever. But clowns for some reason...you couldn't handle them.

"Is it the nose?" He asked mockingly, although he sounded a bit annoyed at the mention of his large appendage again. He forced you to look at him, gripping your chin in his gloved hands. "Hmm?"

"Leave me alone," you managed to get out through gritted teeth.

"Your captain isn't being very cooperative," he ignored your request, "So I have a lot of time to spend here with you."

"Why me?" You tried to glare, but you knew you looked scared. Because you were.

"Fear is a good motivator for telling the truth," he finally let go of your chin, walking around you and sizing you up. "Your friends will be tough to convince, but you...you don't like clowns, right? I'll leave you alone if you tell me where the map is."

"Do your worst," you breathed out, a little shakily, but you were determined not to cave. Not for this idiot.

He growled, and in an instant he was in front of you again, holding a knife to your throat while putting his frightening face right up in yours, "Tell me where it is!"

The sound you let out was something between a squeak and a yelp, fear once again overcoming your body at the clown's proximity. It wasn't so much the knife pressed against your jugular, it was the fact that your worst fear was inches away from you. You clenched your fists, trying to control your shaking, but it didn't work. And he was amused by your terror.

"I'm going to check on your captain," he stepped back, "If he doesn't give me an answer, I'm coming right back here and I promise I'll leave a scar." Then he left, and you could breathe again.

But that's when the tears came.

You didn't really sob, you just stayed there crying silently. Your body trembled, mind numb with fear and shock. His face was burned into your mind, and shutting your eyes only made your panic worse.

That's how Zoro found you, tied up and shaking with glassy eyes.

"What did he do to you?" The swordsman asked when he cut you loose, grabbing and squeezing your arms gently. "(Name), what did he do?"

You just shook your head, unable to speak, and sought his comfort by burying your face in his neck and crying even more. The more you shook, the angrier he got. But he held you for as long as you needed, knowing Nami would be okay with finding Luffy on her own. You were Zoro's priority.

You finally let go a few minutes later, wiping your face, "Let's go help the others."

He nodded, guiding you out the room.

The trauma stuck with you for a few days after the three of you escaped him, evident one night when you woke up sweating and shaking. Zoro was a deep sleeper, but he had a sixth sense reserved just for you, so he was woken up by your outburst.

Zoro wasn't good with words, but he was definitely good at comforting you through actions. He never had to say anything, he just wrapped his strong arms around you and you were slowly soothed. You just had to lean against his chest, enveloped in his arms, and you would slowly calm down. His gentle kisses atop your head also helped, his affection never failing to get your mind off whatever was worrying you.

In Syrup Village, you spotted a poster of the clown pirate and started hyperventilating. Zoro immediately turned you away from it and cupped your cheeks in his hands, making you look at him.

"Hey, focus on me," he told you, "Just me. I'm here. You're fine." He used a gentle, soft tone, one reserved just for you.

You tried to breathe, eyes locked on his face, concentrating on his warm brown ones that held so much concern for you. The eyes that always comforted you with just a look. Slowly your breathing evened out, and Zoro embraced you, this time not caring that you were in public.

"You're okay."

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, "Thanks, Zoro."

He just nodded, giving you one last forehead kiss, "If we ever see him again, I'm going to cut him up and throw him in the ocean."

You managed a weak smile, grateful to have such a protective boyfriend. His actions always proved how devoted he was, even if they were a little violent. You wouldn't have it any other way.

"You do that."

[itsharleystuff]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐌Í𝐀 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a major fight between the two of you, a month goes by in which you give each other the silent treatment, figuring out if you should start seeing different people. However, Javier has a problem: he can’t get his dick hard for anyone that isn’t you. So, when he sees how easily you can move on from him, he gets awfully jealous.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, possessive/jealous behavior, unprotected sex, p in v, cuffs, slight dirty talk, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’, pet names (sweetheart, corazón, cariño, hermosa, etc.), praise kink, come eating, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), mentions of drugs, smoking, a bit of angst, very little plot (mostly filth), weirdly structured plot. I think that’s it.

— a/n: there’s some phrases and words in Spanish, some are translated and some aren’t. Let me know if translations are needed :)

No use of y/n.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Javier Peña has never been a jealous man.

It's simply never been in his nature, not even when he was a child playing around with toys that he loved to share. And nowadays? Well, he had other stuff in mind that didn't leave any room for those pedestrian feelings.

As of now, he -supposedly- didn't have anything to be worried about. Specially not women.

Everyone knew he fucked hookers so good that they'd spill all their secrets in his ear, and that he was attractive enough to leave a bar with company just after a couple of minutes from arriving there. But to anyone observant, it was obvious how bad he had it for you.

Still, that didn't stop him from being an asshole.

You remember the last time you two spoke and how it turned out to be a fucking disaster: basically, he didn't like the idea of exclusivity because it involved feelings that he wasn't ready to admit, so you had called him a slut (along with many other insults) and he'd said that you were childish and sensitive. So naturally, everything went downhill after that fight.

Currently, things were pretty tense with Javier, even at work. But things just got worse when the Colombian police sent you onto an undercover mission, nothing really extravagant but still quite dangerous. And apparently, the DEA knew nothing about it.

The task was rather simple: you'd go to one of Medellin's busiest nightclubs and find out if there was a cocaine distribution line working there. The problem was what the agent had overheard from Carrillo. Not only did he knew now that you were at the place, but he also had word that one of the cartel's most wanted sicarios was about to be there too. And knowing the Coronel as well as he did, you were right in the middle of a crossfire. He arrived at the club earlier than any of them, hoping to find you quickly and draw you out before the asset came in.

But, oh hell.

What he saw the minute he stepped in almost made him lose his shit.

⩇⩇:⩇⩇

You had no business being in there this late. You'd already passed down all the information needed to your boss and now you were just waiting for the cartel's member to arrive so you could call Carrillo and let him finish the job.

But in the meantime, you decided to at least try and have some fun. After everything that went on with Peña, you felt like you deserved a distraction.

The music was loud, reggaetón reverberating in your body as you danced, eyes wide awake in case the target decided to show up. The stranger you were dancing with had his hands all over your body, holding you close to him while you moved in synch. He was handsome in a boyish way, and a bit clumsy, but good enough to take your mind off from the irritating DEA agent. At least for now.

To be honest, you didn't lack any attention at the moment. Both men and women would come up to you, hoping to get a piece of what you had to offer. It came without saying that everything about you tonight resulted appealing to the kind of people that frequented the place, being an undercover assignment you did your best to blend in. And it seemed to work out wonderfully. The flashy makeup and short dress that only accentuated your figure made you stand out amongst the rest; nevertheless, what really attracted everyone's gaze wasn't any of that, but the confidence with which you'd walk around the place like you owned it.

"¿Qué tal si nos vamos pa' un lugar más oscurito, mamacita?" (How about we go to a more private place?) The guy, whose name you didn't even know, proposed. And though the idea sounded nice, your job wasn't quite finished.

"Not yet, papi. Dame un par de canciones más." (Let's dance a bit more). He hummed in response, his hands traveling from your lower back to grab your ass firmly.

"Usted manda." (You call the shots). The answer made you smile cheekily as you lean in to him, hoping to connect his lips with yours.

However, you definitely didn't expect to be abruptly pulled back with force instead, ripping you apart from the man's hold.

"What the hell..." you start to complain and twist in the strangers grasp, who started to drag you out the dance floor and keeping your wrists behind your back.

"Hombre, ¿pero qué diablo' le pasa?" (What's wrong with you, man?). Asked your poor companion, glancing over at the guy that took you away from him.

But you knew exactly who he was even before he spoke. You'd recognize that musky cologne anywhere, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. Damn, even your body recognized him so well that the way his fingertips dig on your skin flooded your mind with memories from the past.

"Peña." You mutter through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn your head towards him.

"It's agent Peña to you, sweetheart." He snarls, completely blowing off anyone that would try to get in his way to lug you outside.

A new, fueled up rage crept up your spine while he harshly pulls you to te entrance, right were you see the colonel's target going in.

"Let go of me, mierda!" You struggle against him, not wanting to actually put on a fight but just make him reason. "I have a fucking job to do, so let go of me or..."

"Or what?" Javier spins you around carelessly, leaving your face so close to his that your breaths merged with each other's, chest pressed against your own as he keeps you still, his hands gripping you so hard that it would certainly leave bruises.

"I need to call Carrillo. I'm working, even if you don't believe it." You tell him, letting your racing heartbeat start to settle.

The man's eyes were dark, covered by a shadow of anger that matched his stern expression. He was always handsome, but whenever he'd get mad, Javi was hot. Although it was unusual for you to see him like this, him being always attentive and careful, though still very passionate. He would never explode, not even when the stress and tension became too much to handle. But then, you realize...

"No way..." you scoff, keeping direct eye contact. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

His reaction is immediate, turning your body again and flushing your face against the trunk of his jeep Cherokee, bending you over the car. You gasp audibly, feeling the cold metal under your cheek and his body towering upon you while he holds you down by the back of your neck. Javier's lips brush the top of your ear when he leans down to you.

"The fuck do I need to be jealous about, cariño?" He whispers lowly, his hot breath giving you goosebumps and making your knees tremble. "Eres mía, you've always been."

Ah, fuck.

Despite all the shit that you went through with him, the effect he had on you remained the same. No matter what, the agent was aware of it, conscious of how you'd always melt under his touch, he just knew all your sweet spots by core memory and what'll have you squirming underneath him. Yeah, even if your mind tried it's best to erase Peña, your body would always betray you.

"You lost your chance." You mutter in a bittersweet tone. "Now get the hell off me so I can finish my task."

He doesn't instantly let go, but eventually loosens the grip on your nape. Though right when you thought he'd actually let you free, there's a cold metallic sensation brushing on your wrist and you suddenly can't move your arms from your back. The motherfucker had just cuffed you.

"Malparido, hijo de..." You ramble, straightening your back to glance at him in exasperation.

"Don't move." He growls, opening the driver's door and taking his radio out. The agent starts to talk through it, but you're way too outraged as to pay any attention, your vision going red when you catch your name, the words 'Carrillo', 'sicario' and the place were you're at, figuring out that he's doing the part of the job that corresponded to you.

"You're sick, Peña." There's no reply to the snarky comment as he simply shoves you in the back of his truck, rather carefully, considering the situation.

You watch intently while he gets back on his seat, analyzing every detail about him. It wasn't anything special, you had seen him quite often at work after your fight, and nonetheless, now... Something seemed off.

Javier was wearing a red button shirt under his black leather jacket, from which he drew out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He appeared the same, however, you could sense the tension on his shoulders and back, the kind you'd help him deal with before, and it almost felt like he was holding back from doing something. Heck, you hated it. You completely despised arguing with him, being apart from the man almost made you physically unwell.

But that was the root of this whole problem. You were able to admit it; how much you liked him and didn't want anyone else. Him on the other hand, wasn't ready for all that. Although, despite him implying that he couldn't fully commit or correspond to your feelings... Right now, his actions were very contradicting.

Because Javier Peña never got jealous.

And yet, there he was.

Perhaps, if you spurred him on just enough and cornered him in a trap... Perhaps then, he'd be able to admit it. 

"So what now, agent?" You wonder, laying your back flat on the leather sit, feeling the coldness of the material on your exposed skin and trying to find a comfortable position. "You mind explaining yourself?"

He looks at you through the rear-view mirror, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. A challenging fire shines in your eyes when you lock glances with him. But he doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and getting the windows down before lighting up a cigarette.

"What about you, sweetheart?" He asks, the fag hanging from between his lips as he starts driving away from the club. "Care for elaborating on your actions?"

You snort, gaze diverting towards the window. "I was just killing time."

The streets of Medellin were loud and busy, specially on the weekends. But at the moment, the paths were dark and quiet, as if everyone knew that there was a storm coming and they had to stay out of the hood.

"So that's your idea of 'killing time'?" He comes again, tapping the cigar out his window to leave the ashes behind. "Letting random men grope you in those wrenched bars?" You grin, still defying him with your attitude. "And yet, I'm the slut..."

"You must certainly are, Peña." You reply condescendingly, watching the road. "When I was with you, that was it. No one else even crossed my mind. But then, you? How many other women did you have besides me?"

He grunts, taking a long drag without looking back in your direction. You recognize certain spots and locals, but none of them were anywhere close to your apartment. Instead of asking were he was taking you to, the idea you previously had lingers on your mind.

Red light.

"You know, ever since we... Well, ghosted each other. I've actually had tons of fun." His eyes darkened, but no matter all the warning signs he was sending with his body, you just couldn't hold back anymore, starting to play a game that might get out of control. "Actually, you know that guy working with the CIA? Balcázar?"

Javier looked so gorgeous while driving. His big hands over the lever and muscles flexing whenever he'd make sudden moves. Even now, tense as an arrow an white-knuckling the wheel at your words, he was the hottest man you'd seen.

"Shit, he’s good..." you purr, slightly arching your back so he'll get a better view of your breasts, barely contained in that tiny dress you were wearing. "I really miss him. Hated it when he went back to New York."

His stormy glare was on you, watching closely every single move you made. Your legs were briefly parted, just enough for him to peek a sight of your laced underwear. The agent's breathing became ragged and he had to try his best to stay concentrated.

"Careful, cariño." You hear him rasp out with a hint of danger. "You really don't want to go there."

Green light.

He puts the cigarette out and throws the tail away carelessly.

"Ay, Peña." Your voice goes an octave lower, licking your lips. "Don't act like you haven't been to every brothel in the city trying to fill in my spot."

The man huffs a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know what you're doing." You look at him through your lashes, faking innocence and confusion. "But if you really want me to say it, there hasn't been anyone else."

"Yeah, right..." That mocking tone was really getting on his nerves.

"Not even when we were together." Javi sulks out.

"Then why was it so difficult for you to be serious with me?" You question grimly. "Do you not like me?"

His eyes bore back into yours somberly, as if you'd just said the stupidest thing in the world despite the graveness in your voice and expression, lazily scanning you head to toe.

"Like you?" It sounded like he was struggling not to come off sardonic, cocking an eyebrow at you. "I can't believe you just asked me that."

You lean in towards him when he takes an unexpected turn, inhaling his particular scent mixed with the leather and smoke. Suddenly, he parks the car someplace dark and empty that resembled an abandoned gas station. Kind of creepy, but you recognized the area now. It was a neighborhood located a couple of blocks away from his apartment.

"Why?" You coo, taunting, patiently testing how much he'd spill. But Javier won't meet your glance, focused on the nothingness ahead of him.

"Because I can't even get my dick hard for any other women, for fucks sake!" He howls, rubbing his face with his palm, clearly pissed.

At first, you thought he must've been joking. But the way he said it came out so frustrated that it made it hard to believe he was lying. His bold statement gave you a rush of power, knowing that you had him in mind and body, the man that made every woman he acquainted feel like a schoolgirl crushing on a senior. You understood why he was so mad right now; it wasn't only cause he was jealous, but because he hated seeing that you could easily move on to the next man while he remained stuck.

Though it was a lie. You only responded to him and you wanted to prove him that. But Javier had to acknowledge the mistake he made.

"Perhaps you're just old." You teased, "Have you tried pills for that?"

His reaction was so unexpected that you had barely any time to process the circumstances. He got out the car and opened the passenger's seat, tugging at your arm to get you out the jeep apprehensively.

"Take a guess, sweetheart." He grits next to your ear, his chest pressed to your back.

"Fucking hell..." you mewl at the feeling of Javier's hard boner firm against your ass. His hands hold your waist for a second before manhandling you to the edge of the back passenger's seat, hunching down in front of you with both hands gently gripping the exposed flesh of your thighs and looking up at you with fiery eyes.

"If you want me to say it, fine." He bites, giving up. "I made a mistake. It was stupid." Then his tone denotes the way he's struggling to contain anger. "I can't bear it. Seeing you with other men... It drives me insane. I can't even think straight- shit, I almost blew a whole ass operation tonight just because I saw you dancing with that guy." You gulp, remembering how furious he was just a few moments ago. "But let's not fool ourselves, cariño. We both know you haven't slept with anyone else either."

How he figured that out was a mystery to you. Maybe he truly was a very good agent.

There isn't a retort in your behalf. What could you possibly say anyway? He had you figured out already, he always did.

Back in the day, when you first started working with him, Javier acted like a complete shithead. Him an Murphy would give you a hard time with the DEA, always getting in trouble, messing up your schedules and bribing confidential information out of you. That's how you grew closer to him. Peña used to invite you for dinner or beers as an apology, granted that he always looked forward to take you back to his apartment, of course. Except you had heard the rumors regarding his reputation, and that was a well in which you weren't particularly eager to fall in, specially since he was a coworker.

Yet, it was all in vain. How could you ever say no to him if he'd look at you with those sparkly, deep brown eyes that resembled a lost puppy? You fell for Javi's smug smirk, the groovy hair, plus that confident and bite-back attitude of his, knowing how it would eventually end. Even so, no one could really blame you. He acted different around you, people were able to tell, brighter, more open and honest.

"See, I'm sorry about what I said..." you start, but he cuts you off.

"Don't be. I deserved that shit." The man stands up, taking a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and going to take off the cuffs. "You should feel sorry for all those poor guys you toyed with while thinking about me the whole time."

You stretch your arms and massage your wrists, unwilling to meet his intense gaze, conscious that you'd fall for his charm immediately. He worked smarter, grabbing your chin to raise your face towards him.

"Did you enjoy it?" He hissed, fingertips digging on your jaw with moderate force. "Having other men grab your ass while everyone watches? Teasing the hell out of me in the office with those obscenely tight skirts and talking to Murphy as if I wasn't right beside him?" Your tongue darts out to lick your lower lip, not breaking eye contact. "Answer me, corazón."

"Yes," you respond cockily, "I enjoyed it." His face swiftly sobered, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "But I didn't think it had any effect on you, so it felt like a waste of time and effort."

Javier laughs huskily, bending forward. You close your eyes, thinking he's going in for a kiss, but instead his lips go to rest on your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and all the way down to the valley of your breasts. As of now, you're a panting mess, already turned on by his adamant behavior. The fact that you were finally getting to feel him like this after a month or so of completely ignoring each other... It felt divine.

Your tug at his shoulder as he keeps nibbling the sensitive skin. The agent knew your body better than anyone else ever could, he'd memorized all the spots that would have you moaning and squirming underneath him, which was the case just now.

"Javi..." you sigh, running your hand through his hair.

"You're such a fucking brat." He reflects, kneeling between your parted legs. "A month ago I was merely a ghost to you, a few minutes prior I was simply 'Peña'. But when my lips are on you I'm suddenly 'Javi'?" He boasts with a devilish grin. "How convenient..."

"Mmm..." he laughs gruffly at your loss of words, his fingers hooking your underwear beneath the dress and slowly pulling it down.

At this point you're so wet it's embarrassing. It was probably due to the lack of sex you've had recently, or perhaps you were really growing fond of this new phase of his and the idea of Javier being possessive over you.

"Don't you dare look away." He warns roughly, peeling the fabric off you with a tad of your help. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll only tell you this once."

You nod eagerly. "Javi, are we- are we going to do it here?" It wouldn't be a new thing, you've done similar stuff in the past, though never in such an open space, despite appearing deserted. "Your place is barely a few blocks away..." His lips graze the soft skin of your upper leg, the feeling of his mustache raising goosebumps on your body.

"Can't wait." He stated, voice tinted with lust whilst his palm caresses your calf. "Need you now."

Somehow that made the pit of your stomach feel warmer. The rush of excitement coming from that desire he had for you had gave a thrill of control, completely ignoring how he was the one in charge of this situation. Javier carefully slips your dress upwards, taking in every single reaction you had to his touch and cursing at the sight of your throbbing pussy. The heat of his breath against your exposed core only increased your arousal, seemingly encouraging him.

"Shit, this cunt really did miss me, huh?" You nod again, basking in the contact of his nose brushing your clit, sending shivers down your spine.

In spite of your low whimpers of need, he deliberately denied you of his touch were you most needed him, simply roaming his lips and fingers over your inner thighs and pubic bone. Desperate, you scratch his scalp softly, pulling a groan from him.

"Javi, please..." he was definitely going to make you beg for it, regardless of how much he wanted it too. 

"Did you let anyone else do this to you?"

"No." You breathe out.

"Good." His thumb suddenly falls on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You squeal from the spontaneousness of the action, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "This is mine." Then he slides down his finger to slightly part your swollen lips, coating it with your slick. "All mine."

"Sí, Javi."

"That's right, corazón." He murmurs, slipping two digits into you. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't ever think about anyone else." He sets a pace pretty quickly, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit all the right spots. "I'm the only man for you. Understand that?"

"Yes, shit-" you choke down a moan when he mildly pinches your nub. "You are."

He makes a satisfied noise before diving in your pussy, starting to lick and kiss your clit without pulling out his fingers, maintaining a relentless pace and rejoicing himself in the sounds he'd pull from you.

"Fuck, that's good..." you manage to say, knowing how he likes the praise, your hand messing up his hair.

Javier pulls away for a second, grabbing your thighs to part them further and place your legs over his shoulders eagerly, hungrily looking up at you. You arch your back, ever so responsive to him while struggling to maintain a hold of yourself.

"So pretty." He whispers, admiring how your chest goes up and down from your rag breathing, your face contorted by pleasure as his fingers disappear in your cunt, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the moans spilling from your lips making him painfully hard. "Toda mía."

Your legs were already shaking, your body being so sensitive and needy. Specially for him. Always for him. But it wasn't enough and you both knew that. Though before you can beg him for more, his mouth takes place were his digits used to be, eating you out as if you were his favorite meal, lapping you up kind of selfishly, almost like he did it for his own pleasure.

"Javi, that's-" you can't even form coherent sentences without being interrupted by your cries of pleasure. "Too fucking good."

His tongue is hot and soft between your folds, licking up your slit as he rubs tight circles on your clit, fucking you greedily and moaning graciously against your slickness. Also, the image of him between your legs was always a sight to see, adding to the pool of arousal. You start seeing white spots and the knot in your lower stomach starts to loosen as the orgasm approaches, gripping the leather seat as if your life depended on it. It's a good thing that he's holding you, cause in a matter of seconds your whole body starts to tremble and his name leaves your lips repeatedly.

"I can't- shit!" You pull his hair involuntarily and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your core and pushing you to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

You can't even finish speaking before you're coming undone in his mouth, feeling the hot waves of satisfaction wash over you. He doesn't pull away until you're practically whining from the overstimulation, trying to regain composure as he licks you clean. When he does, his eyes peer at you, intoxicated with desire as he starts to stand on his feet, towering over you.

"I missed that sweet taste of yours." He licks his glistening lips and you wish he'd finally kiss you. "Can't get enough of it."

Your hands reach his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he takes your wrists to stop you.

"What's wrong?" You question, genuinely confused.

"I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm doing this properly." He retorts. However, you're too turned on now to care about the place.

"Please Javi, let me do something for you." One thing that made him go stupidly insane for you was the way you were never coy when asking for his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes. As if having him on your throat gratified you. "I need you."

He almost caved in. Almost.

"Stop that or I'll cuff you again." He grumbles, only making you smile.

"Do it. I don't need hands, I can always take you in my mou-" Javier flips your body abruptly, pressing your face against the seat, and you can hear the familiar sound of metal clipping in.

"Such a greedy slut." He fixes your dress, not without subtly smacking your ass beforehand.

"Mm, can I at least get my panties back?" You ask in defeat, turning to face him, but he was already shutting the door.

"No." He quickly starts the car as you settle on the back, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and lips plump from biting them, eyes still sparkling from the high post-orgasm.

"Do you like me like this?" You wonder as he begins driving. "All fucked out, cuffed and ready for you to take?"

Peña doesn't answer immediately, not daring to look back at you but desperately wanting to do it.

"I do." He answers, eyes on the road. "I like you naked. And dressed too, specially with those pretty skirts. I like it when you tell me how your day was, or when you're reading quietly." His words make your heart flutter, blushing harder. "I like listening to your voice, and the way your gaze always seems interested whenever I talk about me. Shit, I even like you when you're ignoring me." You can almost hear his smile, if that made any sense. "I like you all the damn time, hermosa."

Honestly, you weren't expecting such a straightforward answer, finding yourself at loss of words. Nonetheless, you didn't need to say anything, cause sooner than expected you were being taken out of the truck, flashes of the building he resided in passed right in front of your eyes while he dragged you through the dark, silent halls.

"Javi..." despite having limited mobility, you lean towards him, whispering in his ear. "Please kiss me."

He laughs dryly at your plea and struggles to open the door. "You want that, huh? ¿Quieres que te bese?" Then he takes your arm to drag you in, closing the door behind him.

"Yes, mi amor. I missed you so fucking much." You stay close to him, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. His hand brushes the hair out of your face and he presses his lips to your temple.

"Hm, is that right?" He hums and you can feel it against your nose. "Didn't seem so."

You back off swiftly, keeping your eyes locked with his. "I'm sorry, Javier. I really am."

Something shifts in his gaze, a possessive, deep emotion takes over him and he decides to take you up on your previous proposition.

"Prove it." He commands, voice hoarse. "Show me how much you missed me." The idea of getting what you wanted pursed your lips in a mischievous smirk. "I'll kiss you afterwards if I'm convinced."

Instead of responding, you start peppering kisses all over his jaw and neck, going as far along his chest as the buttons of his shirt would allow you. He lazily unbuckles his belt and pants while you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, but doesn't bother to go any further. It was going to be difficult, though nothing you haven't done before, nearly forgetting the cuffs as you craved his taste.

You rub the side of your face on his stiff erection, feeling how hard and hot he was under the tight fabric of his jeans and a low groan scratches his throat. You mouth at it before taking the zip between your teeth and sliding it down, eyes peering up at him at the same time. Javier observes every move attentively, his cock twitching at the sight of your lust-drunken gaze, breath starting to become unsteady when you kiss and lick the head of his dick over the thin fabric of his boxers. You taste the precum throughout it, salty and good, before pulling down his underwear by lightly biting the elastic.

Your mouth waters at the view, jaw going slack even before taking him in your mouth. His girth slaps against his clothed belly, tip red and leaking, just as big as you remember. Shit, you really had missed him. Javier's hand tangles in your hair, running his fingers in between the locks lovingly. He gasps when you press your lips to the slit, kitten licking the top and starting to spread wet kisses all over his length, running your tongue along the shaft, his musky scent getting to your head quite fast. He loved how every time you were on your knees for him it felt like you adored him, as much as Javier did you.

And it was true. Knowing how good you made him feel satisfied your senses, every expression and single noise he'd make could turn you on and push you to edge so easily. The man was simply delightful.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” he sighs, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb when you finally suck him in. “That’s it, wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock. So pretty…”

He lets out a gruffly moan as you take him further, watching as he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, the sound so divine that it immediately makes your pussy clench around nothing. Javier is thick. And it’s always so hard to get him all in your mouth, but this time you make a double effort. You run your tongue against the veins on the underside of his dick, enjoying the weight of it in you, the taste and the admirable sight of him coming undone while he tries his best not to start fucking your face without warning, laying his palms flat on the wall behind you.

“Shit- that’s…” he grumbles, head spinning from pleasure, unable to make up any thought or manifest anything into words. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to provide more warmth.

You’re dripping, feeling the slick run down your thighs and the ache becoming unbearable. You squeeze your legs together in order to release some of that need, letting out a whine that vibrates through him and makes his hips jolt into your mouth.

“Fucking hell…” Javier’s hand snakes to the back of your neck, massaging the soft skin. “Does it turn you on to get me off like this, hermosa?”

You hum in response and the feeling sends him to oblivion, letting out a coarse moan that shocks another wave of hotness between your legs.

“What a nasty girl you are.” He mumbles breathily, “My girl.” He’s practically shaking at this point, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed against his pubic bone.

Air wasn’t a necessity at the moment, your ears ringing and the corners of your eyes watering. He warned you he was close but you didn’t back out, letting him hold you for support. He gasps out a raspy ‘fuck’ when he releases, hips stuttering and back arching slightly as his cum hits your tongue. You pull apart just enough to lap at the tip while he rides it out, feeling him throb in your mouth while you savor him until he’s completely spent, soft moans barely audible.

You wait until he opens his eyes again, brown gaze meeting yours between shaky breaths. “Will you uncuff me now, agent?”

He huffs a laugh, tugging himself back in his jeans before helping you get up and taking the metal cuffs off. For a second, none of you say a thing, simply staring back at each other with a swirl of emotions between you. But then he says your name, merely a whisper that makes you crumble.

“Don’t do that, Peña.” You scold, turning your back to him and walking towards the couch, taking a seat and listening to the leather crack under your weight.

“What do you mean?” He turns to you, hands on his hips, pants unbuttoned and hair messy.

“When you say my name like you need me and give me those puppy-dog eyes, I actually believe that you want me for anything other than sex.” He seems disappointed, mostly on himself. “So can we just fuck and get this over with?”

“Is that what you think I…?” Javier shakes his head and follows your direction, but only observes from above. “It’s not like that.”

You take off the heels, your feet starting to hurt. “Then how is it?”

His hand goes to your chin, urging you to look up at him. “I’m not good with this… I screwed up back in Texas and I did it again with you.” You gulp, your hands tightly gripping your knees. “I don’t know how to handle this sort of things, and it’s been a while since I felt like this for anyone…”

He takes the jacket off and sits on the edge of his coffee table in front of the sofa, cupping your face in his hands.

“All I know is that every time we’re together, nothing else matters. Things feel right. But when you’re not with me… Shit. Life becomes insufrible. I can’t sleep, can’t think, fuck, I can’t even have sex!” He looks genuinely irritated. “Everything’s about you when you’re away. And I can’t tolerate to see you with anyone else. It’s like someone just took a shot at me.”

You inhale sharply, taking his hand in yours without breaking eye contact. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve came back to you.”

“Precisely. I tried not to be selfish and let you go, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” He pouts, as if the mere thought made him sick. “And you deserve better.”

Inevitably, you roll your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Peña.” He furrows his brows at your reply, his palm falling from your cheek to his lap. “That’s crap! You think you know what’s best for me?”

“Well shit, I’m sorry for trying to look out for you.” Javier snarls back.

“I don’t need you to do that, you idiot.” You grab his jaw, taking him by surprise. “I know what I want and I was straightforward about it,” His heart starts thumping against his ribs. “So, if you want me, take me. Cause if you don’t… Someone else might.”

Your statement stirs his pot and his expression shifts. “Fuck no. You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how this is going to work.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a throaty growl and leans down towards you.

“Yeah.” His mustache tickles your upper lip when he crashes his lips to yours and you whine into his mouth.

It was desperate and demanding, ripping all the emotions from you. Javier tasted like cigarettes, a hint of mint and of you. And you tasted like tequila, honey and of him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it.

“Say you’re mine, corazón.” He mumbles when he pulls back for air, forehead pressed to yours. “I don’t care if you’re lying, I need to hear it.”

You take him by the collar of his shirt so that he’s sitting down next to you, snaking your hand to press the palm against his bare chest.

“Soy tuya, Javi.” You tell him, laying a small kiss to his lips. “I mean it.”

He smiles cheekily as he pulls you on top of him, spreading your knees to each side of his thighs, your dress slipping upwards. Javier tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers roam your face as if he wanted to memorize every edge of it by tact alone. His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip carefully, parting your lips briefly before going to kiss you again. This time he does it slowly, taking his time with your lips prior to sliding his tongue past your teeth and relishing on your taste, almost like he wanted to lose himself in you.

To him, the world meant nothing if you weren’t by his side. And now that you were here, he intended to make the most of it.

His hands are everywhere: your waist, hips, lower back and butt, grabbing every bit of your flesh that he could, keeping you close. So close that it almost seemed like he wished to merge into you. You made out for what it appeared to be hours, until the kisses got sloppier but never less passionate, and you started grinding against him. You hold his shoulders for support, creating that delicious friction between your naked cunt and his stiff boner tucked in his pants. He jolts his hips up, making you release a whimper in his mouth.

He backed off, his lips now scrape your jawline, neck and collarbones. You arch your back when his hand slithers to pull down the zipper of your dress, granting him a better view of your tits close to his face.

“My room?” He asks, biting your earlobe mildly.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Javi carries you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, still finding a way to keep his lips on you in the meantime. Clothes disappear in the blink of an eye and you sit at the end of the sheets to help him take off his pants, kissing his abdomen, your dress now discarded somewhere on the floor.

“Eres preciosa.” The way he says it makes you blush, skin burning under his chocolate gaze. “I’m all yours, mi amor.”

You bring his face close to yours, infatuated with his beauty. “All mine…”

“Yes, corazón.”

You lay down on the mattress, Javier starting to play with your hard nipples, nibbling at them, sucking and kissing with his attention focused on all your reactions. You’re so aroused that you’re quite literally dripping onto his sheets, legs trembling from every light stimulation and skin scorching from desire, already spurred on by the make out and giving him head.

“Please, Javi… I- need you inside.”

He wastes no time to compel, maneuvering a hand to your lower back and aligning himself to your entrance, keeping your legs spread. You feel him inside, splitting you open with no previous warning and the tight grip of your cunt feels like homecoming to him. You hold your breath until he bottoms out, enjoying the sweet stretch he provided. Then your whole body quivers, a sheen layer of sweat covering both his golden skin and yours, a couple of curly locks sticking to his temples from it.

You watch him from below through hooded eyes, every inch of him inside you making you feel so full and complete, the outline of his fingers dig in your waist to keep you angled. You bear down on his cock, enveloping him in the warm, welcoming grasp of your body. He holds your hand above your head and leans down to kiss you again, drowning his own moans in your mouth as he draws out slowly to set a pace with his hips, the wet sounds of you pussy and skin clapping against skin sending a thrill of excitement down his spine.

You get it then, as he pours out all sentiment into you, overcome by passion. He is yours. Even though he just said it, only now does it become evident to you. This is Javier’s way of proving it.

He grabs one of your thighs and lifts your knee to the crook of his elbow, the new angle spreading you further open and allowing him to hit deeper. The impact of his tip hitting every right spot relentlessly forces you to break apart from his lips, your head thrown back into his pillows while practically screaming for more, his face nuzzled in your chest as he melts into you.

“Shit baby, I won’t last.” He warns, sinking his teeth to leave a mark between your breasts. You can feel it too, hot shots of ecstasy creeping up the pit of your stomach every time his cock jumps inside you.

You tug at his hair, a strangled moan escaping his lips. “Do it in me- Please, fill me up.”

Your request sends him right to the edge, his thrusts becoming careless as he starts grinding into you, Javi’s fingers quickly finding your swollen clit. The sole touch made you writhe and reach your high in absolute bliss, clenching your walls around him and crying out from raw pleasure. He fucks you through it, overwhelmed by the sensation. You feel dizzy, barely conscious when he finds his own release, your name spilling from his lips like it was the only word he knew, coming in warm spurts inside you. His spend is dripping from your pussy and thighs when he pulls out and sits up to admire the absolute mess he just made of you.

“Well…” he says, guiding his finger to push his seed back into you, making you whine from the overstimulation. “Hope that made it clear.”

You smile, every muscle in your body weeping from exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll have to make you jealous more often.”

He groans in annoyance and you pull him back on top of you, spreading tender kisses all over his face, laughing in the meantime.

“Not funny.” He grumbles, despite the grin forming on his lips. Javier rolls to your side, coming to lay down next to you and immediately holding you against his sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you. “Stay with me.”

His plead is barely a murmur that filters through your ears and you’re too tired to figure out what those words actually mean. You simply let your eyelids drop and retort with a hardly audible ‘always’.

[ceresun]

hii queen i suck ass at creativity but i was wondering if u'd write some daeho hc's abt him and reader in the games tg? like maybe they dated before or smth but rekindle in the games? probably like angst ig or wtv 🙏

(i'm sorry i suck at writing requests 😣)

traces lost to time

pairing : kang daeho x gender neutral! reader

summary : Aware of those who had people they loved participating in these death games, he felt quite bad for them. But never once did he think he’d have to experience their reality of constant worry. At least not up until you show up.

extra : hai nonnie! thank you sososo much for the request :3!! ajebfkwbdka hopefully you like it!! I can feel like I wrote way more than just hcs but whatever.. daeho may be ooc ergh. this isn’t proofread and I’m bad at angst sorryz

⟢ A relationship with Daeho would have to be a strong one before he can think about someone in a romantic sense, so I see this being a childhood friends to lovers situation. Being this close with him means he’d naturally feel like he could tell you anything without any fear of judgement from you. Yet, this still didn’t stop him from keeping parts of himself hidden. This is genuinely one of the only reasons I can see a relationship with Daeho going downhill.

⟢ His father was always a traditional one. The constant reprimands of never being “a real man” and being too soft weren’t ones Daeho was unfamiliar with. Being childhood friends with him, you knew what his father was like. The younger you didn’t put much thought into his words, yet still comforted Daeho when he was visibly upset by his fathers words. But as you grew older and the times his father reprimanded him grew, you found it difficult to ignore how Daeho would get quieter and the way he’d try to stop his eyes from tearing up.

⟢ After his time in the marines, you couldn’t stop but notice the little difference in him. The way he’d tense up slightly when hearing a loud noise before going back to doing what he had been doing, or the way you’d wake up at random times in the night to hear his muffled cries, only stopping himself when he heard your shuffles. He had never been one to do those things, at least not before his time in the marines.

⟢ You, being Daeho’s closest friend and partner, would want to get him to open up with you about how he truly feels. Yet you’d only be faced with rejection. He didn’t necessarily mean to block you out, but he couldn’t stand to face you during this low period in his life. Thus causing you to leave.

⟢ At this point, Daeho kind of knew he had screwed up. It only hit him hard when he was able to regain some stability in his life. You were essentially his anchor yet he was still drifting and lost at sea. Following this, his life slowly starts getting worse and worse. He starts racking up a debt that he isn’t able to pay back. So, when a man comes up to him and offers him the ability to earn money while seemingly only having to play simple games, he takes him up on his offer.

⟢ It isn’t until everyone is waiting for the first game to start when he finally sees you. It’s been quite a while since he’s seen you, so he hesitates to come up and talk to you. It isn’t until he hears you talk to the woman next to you that he realizes it actually is you. He only gets to walk to where you stood before the games abruptly start. When people start getting killed, his first thought isn’t his safety, but instead yours. When gi-hun advises people to get behind those bigger than them he immediately pulls you behind him. It’s the first time you’ve seen him since you’d left, so seeing him shocked you quite a bit. As soon as you two cross that finish line he is all over you and making sure you weren’t hurt in any way. You have to practically yell at him to get his attention.

⟢ From there on, you’re not leaving his sight for even a second. Don't even think about trying to join a team without him because he will not let you. It’s not a want to have control over you but instead a fear of losing you that makes him like this. He tries his absolute hardest to make sure the both of you make it out of these games alive, yet it still wasn’t enough. During mingle, as soon as the number is called your group starts running towards a vacant room. In the midst of all the chaos, someone had pushed you out of the way in order to secure a spot themselves.

⟢ You had only a couple seconds left as you got up and ran towards the door. It wasn’t until the door had locked when Daeho realized you weren’t in the room with them. He didn’t exactly know what he felt at that moment. It was a big mix of anger, hurt, and emptiness. This would be one just one of the things that’d cause him to spiral. You best believe he is going insane on the person who had pushed you. He wouldn’t kill them, just beat them hard.

⟢ He’d ultimately be determined to make it out of the games alive for both of you. One of his biggest regrets is never really making up for what had happened between you two. He’ll never truly be able to get that closure. But there’s nothing he can do now.

© ceresun >ᴗ< -> my works are not to be translated or reposted without permission!

[steddiealltheway]

Steve cradles Eddie's face gently as he kisses him with a smile. "I missed you," he whispers between kisses.

"I missed you, too," Eddie says as he kisses a path across Steve's jaw.

Steve groans and thuds his head back against the wall of the Hawkins High School theater room. "Tell me again why we can't tell people yet."

Eddie laughs as he pulls away to look at him with a softness in his gaze. "You've already asked me this twice in the past five minutes."

"Because I want everyone to know about my amazing boyfriend. Robin's going to kill me when she finds out that I've been lying about my series of bad dates. And Dustin will kill both of us for keeping this a secret from him. You know how much he's been begging for us to hang out together."

Eddie sighs and hides his face in the crook of Steve's neck. "It's just not the right time yet." He lifts his head to meet Steves's gaze as he continues, "I just... I'm afraid Dustin or one of the guys will say something at school and accidentally out us. Plus, I want to tell everyone together. Not just you and not just me. Together, okay?"

Steve nods. He would do anything for Eddie. "Not even Robin? he asks.

"Not even Robin."

Steve sighs and nods. "Okay. I promise we'll tell everyone together."

Eddie smiles and leans in. "Seal it with a kiss?"

Steve laughs and wraps his arms around his shoulders. "One more then I have to drive Dustin home before he kills me."

One more kiss turns into two which turns into three until Steve finally breaks away with a big smile and says, "Okay, okay! I have to go!"

Eddie clings onto his hand as Steve tries to leave, and Steve can't help but linger a little longer. "When's your final campaign thing again?"

Eddie smiles. "Two weeks. Think you can make it that long without me?"

"No," Steve replies honestly and moves in closer to hug Eddie tightly. His heart thuds in his chest, and for some reason, he feels like this may be one of the last moments the two of them will get. He tries to shake away the feeling but Eddie must notice.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, concern heavy in his tone as he pulls Steve in closer.

Steve only squeezes him tighter.

"We'll tell them together eventually, okay? Not apart."

Steve nods and breaks the hug, kissing Eddie deeply before he steps back, fingers trailing down Eddie's arms to his hands until they slip away. "Together and not apart. Got it. And hey, two weeks."

"Two weeks," Eddie says with a big smile. "But you better call."

Steve scoffs, "You act like I wouldn't."

Eddie pulls his hair in front of his face, failing to hide the blush on his face. Steve finds it entirely adorable. He walks away and pushes the door slightly open, trying to ignore the sense of impending doom he feels. He pauses in the doorway and turns around. "You know I love you, right?"

Eddie freezes momentarily in confusion, only having heard the phrase a few times. He nods. "I love you, too," he replies a bit breathlessly.

Steve nods before walking out the door, waggling his fingers at Eddie in the way that always makes him laugh. "I'll call you later."

And he does call him later. In fact, Steve can't go a single night without hearing Eddie's voice before he goes to bed, which makes it worse when he doesn't hear from him two weeks later after Lucas's game and their brief fight about how Eddie should've changed the date of the final D&D session.

Only, Steve didn't realize there was more to Eddie missing his call other than their fight.

Things only continue to go downhill after that as the impending doom finally comes.

With the world coming to an end, Steve doesn't really get the chance to talk things through with Eddie, and they both know now is not the time to reveal their secret relationship.

Steve reluctantly agrees to the plan to face Vecna, separating him and Eddie temporarily, but it seems like the best choice to ensure Eddie will stay safe.

But when he hears Dustin's screams as they leave the Creel house, Steve knows that he thought wrong.

And as he drags Eddie's lifeless body out of the Upside Down, he tries as hard as he can to hold his tears back. Because his reaction wouldn't make sense to anyone. And he promised him. They would tell everyone about their relationship together, not apart.

So, Steve waits until everyone leaves him alone, none of them knowing that he's lost the love of his life, and he lets himself finally break. "Together and not apart," Steve sobs, "We were supposed to be together and never apart."

And Steve will never know that Eddie, with his dying breath, tried as hard as he could to tell Dustin that Steve could tell everyone, but he never got the words out.

[motherlvr]

hi:D can you do miles!42 with a reader who doesn't really like getting told "watch who ur talking to" or smth bc most fics abt miles!42 is like that and nooo i won't ever let a man say that to me😭 and they like, know how to defend themself so they're pretty independent if thats alr ofc!

ngl i loved writing this, tysm for the req!

wc: 2.1k

pairing: E-42 Miles Morales x Strong, Independent! f! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of rivalry tbh, cursing, Miles is mean in this one, but gets character development, reader knows how to fight, baddie ong, reader doesn't take miles' bs

------------

"You gotta be shitting me." Mumbling under your breath, your eye involuntarily twitched. You glared at Miles like it was his fault for putting you in this situation.

Your glare was reciprocated as he said, "I ain't happy about it either, princesa." You hated when he called you that. It rolled off his tongue with such distaste. "Yeah? Glad we got that in common then." You snipped, irritated.

Miles Gonzalo Morales was a dick. To put it kindly.

He was a stuck-up, close-minded dick. It's like his sole purpose in life was to irk you. The two of you have never been on good terms. He tested your patience every waking moment.

But unfortunately for both of you, your Spanish teacher paired you up as partners for a major project. It would count for a good portion of your grade, so not doing it wasn't an option for you. You had less than two weeks to finish the project, and you weren't going to waste it.

You'd much prefer to do the project alone. One thing you've learned is: if you want something done correctly, do it yourself. And to never put it solely in the hands of a man. But the project was a requirement for the class, so you had no place to argue about it.

Thankfully, today was just a planning day. So it wouldn't be as painful, you hoped.

You showed him a plan you had thought about within only a few minutes and asked, "Thoughts?" He took a short glance at it and told you, "That's trash." A vein almost popped out of your head. You snapped, "You got any better ideas then?"

"Yea, anythin' other than that." He told you mindlessly. You had half a mind to make his braided head become real familiar with the cold surface of his desk. Around ten minutes later, he had finally come up with something. It wasn't that great, but at least he was semi-cooperative. You took one look at his plan and decided to turn the tables on him. You said, "You couldn't have come up with anything better? Shit's worse than my idea."

You could see him grip his pencil just a bit tighter, no doubt irritated by now. "Nah, watch your mouth." He told you, and you were unsure of how serious he was being. "Watch my mouth? You needa watch how when you turn around, one of your precious braids will be gone." You said as you made a snipping motion with your fingers. He protectively grabbed onto his braids, "Yo chill, ma."

As Spanish class progressed, everything only went downhill from there. He always seemed to hate every idea you had or had something to say. He groaned, "Woman, I swear. Your ideas are shit." Your former hopes of a peaceful partnership were long gone.

His choice of words alone irked you as you replied, "See, that's what you're not gonna call me. And if we're gonna be partners, you need to act decent for once. Get it together, Morales." You set clear boundaries as you pointed a finger at him. Surprisingly, he obliged. He looked like he made a revelation as he shook his head. "Nah, you right. That was outta line." The moment was oddly tranquil until he opened his mouth again. "I meant: I swear, your ideas are fucking terrible."

From that point further, the hopes of having a normal, mature, conversation were fleeting. The majority of the class was spent bickering rather than working on the task at hand.

You were one of the very few people that tested him. You gave him a challenge, while most people wouldn't utter a single complaint.

Eventually, at the end of the class, the two of you finally landed on an idea to carry out. A true miracle.

The next week in Spanish class passed and the days were cutting it closer and closer to the deadline. But there was still much work to be done. So, begrudgingly, you both had to work on it out of school. After Spanish, you were packing up your things when you asked him, "My place or yours?" His response was immediate. "My place. I'll give you my address. Come over after school, 'ight?" He said, writing down his address and handing it to you.

You accepted it and said, "Alright. Are your parents good with me coming over?" You questioned if he even had the decency to check first. Although you couldn't stand him most of the time, you didn't want to intrude on his family. He shrugged it off, "Yeah my ma's good with it. Already told her."

He wasn't about to tell you that his mother demanded the project was done at his house so she could keep a keen eye on the both of you.

You were dreading the final bell of the day. Spending more time than legally required with Miles wasn't your ideal image of fun. As the school day ended, you walked over to Miles' house.

Knocking on the door, it was soon opened by no one other than Miles' mother. She was expecting you, as a smile adorned her face. You greeted her, "¡Hola, Señora Morales! Gracias por invitarme a tu casa." (Hi, Mrs. Morales! Thank you for inviting me to your house.)

She widened her eyes at you, "¡Claro! ¿Cómo estás?" (of course, how are you?) She asked you with a sweet smile. You replied and reciprocated a smile, "Bien, ¿usted?" (good, you?) To which she responded, "Muy bien, gracias." (very good, thank you) As you put down your things, you noticed Miles was standing only a few feet away. His mother pulled Miles to the side and whispered, "She speaks Spanish, I like her." Not wanting to give away that she was a loud whisperer, you concealed a small laugh. It's a wonder how Miles turned out like that. His mother's wonderful. You knew she raised him better.

After his mother was done speaking to him, Miles led you to his room. His mother called out, "¡Deja la puerta abierta!" (leave the door open!) "Si, mami." He said back in an unusually nice tone.

You previously believed Miles Morales was a universal dick. But you soon realized you were somewhat wrong. He was a dick. To everyone except his mother, it seemed.

As you both settled down to start working on the project, you grinned at him like you had just found out a Federal-level secret. "You're such a momma's boy." You said.

His head whipped to you like you knew something you shouldn't. "No one would believe you." He said. You teased, "Oh, everyone would. Trust."

This was the most civil conversation the both of you have ever held within your whole history of knowing Miles. The afternoon was sprinkled with light-hearted jokes here and there, and it wasn't as painful as you initially believed. Needless to say, being forcibly confined in a space with Miles went much smoother than you could've ever anticipated. The project was progressing for once. And so was your relationship with Miles.

A few days later, you were in a better mood than regular. Within the past few days, Miles has been more tolerable. Maybe even likable. Apparently, you were in too good of a mood. You must've appeared too approachable today.

As you were walking in the hallways of school to your next class, a guy you didn't recognize slung an arm around your shoulders and said, "Hey, what's good jit?" You immediately pushed his arm off. He reeked of an excessive usage of cologne. You winced at his stench. "Don't call me that." You assertively said. But he only took it as a challenge. He said with a wink, "You tryna play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along."

"I'm not 'playing hard to get'," You mocked with air quotations. Dumbing it down, you continued, "I don't want you." Could a girl make it any more obvious?

Your words went straight over his oversized head. He said with a disgusting smirk, "I can change your mind." Your face visibly grimaced at his desperate attempt, "Not even baby Jesus could change my mind."

He was starting to get agitated at this point, "Nah, why you trippin', girl?" he said. You immediately retorted, "Why can't you take a damn hint?"

"C'mon, I know you want me. Gimme a chance." He said. You were sick and tired of this interaction, so you just decided to walk away. Turning your back, you tried to escape this conversation. But he grabbed your hand to prevent you from leaving. "Aye, where you goin'?"

You tried to be patient. And where did patience get you? Nowhere. In your mind, this guy was way too testosterone-deficient to be talking tough to you. There was nothing worse than a teenage boy. More importantly, a boy that didn't know what 'no' means.

And in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded throughout the hallway.

He looked like he was about to start crying. Holding his cheek in pain, he sneered, "Fuck you, bitch. You ain't shit anyway. I ain't even want you." But as you tried to walk away once again, he placed a tight grip on your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.

Miles was skipping class and wandering in the hallways when he saw you. From your body language, he could tell you were uncomfortable. His eyes glanced toward the guy's grip on your shoulder, and Miles suddenly understood the situation. He could see where this was heading. Or at least, he believed he did. Miles was about to intervene when within the blink of an eye, you had flipped the guy on his back and onto the floor.

You told the boy on the floor, "Don't try that shit again. With me or any other woman, got it?" Groaning in agony, the guy whimpered in response, and you took it as a 'yes'.

The guy was no André the Giant, but it impressed the hell out of Miles nonetheless. Since when could you do that? He questioned himself. Miles had to prevent his jaw from dropping. He was suddenly glad he never pushed you that far. You walked away unbothered as if nothing had happened. He gained a newfound respect for you. But that would have to stay unspoken.

Once Spanish class rolled around, you realized it was the second to last day you had to finish the project, so you were working extra diligently in Spanish class. You told Miles, "Alright, I finished decorating it. What do you think?" showing him the project. Not that you cared what he thought, but it would make this whole process much easier if he wouldn't shit on your every move. You've had your daily dose of asshole for the day. Almost an overdose, really.

A few moments passed by where he stared at the project, and then back to you. Fully expecting Miles to be his usual asshole self, you said, "Spit it out. What is it?" You waved your hand in front of his face. He swatted your hand away and replied, "I ain't gonna hold you, it's a pretty solid project so far."

You raised a brow at him, and suspiciously asked, "Really?" This was the first time he didn't have any retort to say. "Yeah, I think you're great, ma." He said. You cheekily grinned at him as he tried to correct himself, "I meant, great at the project. Yeah. The project." He almost stumbled on his words. He never did that. He was always collected. What was up with him? It was definitely a sudden change, but you weren't complaining.

There was only a small portion of the project left to do by the end of the class, so Miles suggested finishing it at his house.

This time after school, the both of you walked together to his house. As you worked on the project in his room, you noticed he wasn't getting much done. It seemed like he was in his head, whatever goes on in there. As you glanced up, he locked eyes with you. You hadn't a clue what he was thinking.

You originally would've preferred to do the project yourself, but if you had to have a partner, you believed the work should be divided equally. You weren't going to carry the whole project on your back.

"Why're you slacking, Miles? Our time is limited, y'know." "Ion know. Mind's elsewhere." He shrugged. It was subtle, but you noticed his glance travel to your lips. You grinned and took the opportunity to tease, "What, you want a kiss or somethin'?" You said it mainly as a joke. Sure, maybe you liked the way he gave you a challenge everyday. You wouldn't blatantly admit it, but it was refreshing to be with someone that actually cared about their work. But much to your surprise, he ran his hand over the back of his braids and said. "Shi, maybe it would motivate me. You feel me?"

Not expecting him to agree, you said, "I mean, alright. If you get off your ass, maybe I'll give you one." You tried to say as casually as you could. But you couldn't deny the fact that you were growing fond of him. You were internally conflicted as you wanted to hate him, but couldn't. In reality, it was far from hate.

Miles couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment his detest for you faded away and was replaced with something different. An emotion he rarely felt. Seeing you singlehandedly take on a guy was only fueling it for him. He quickly started working harder on his part. You mentally praised yourself. After a few silent moments, he spoke up, "Yo, I'm basically finished."

He was bullshitting, and you knew it. As you looked at his part of the project, he still had a good chunk to finish. But you caved and moved closer to him. Holding a hand to his face, you peppered a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely avoiding his mouth.

As usual, he had something to say, "Don't play, mami." He resisted the urge to press his lips to yours until they were numb. You simply smiled at him and replied, "Yeah? Keep workin' and you'll earn a real one."

Immediately, Miles got right back to working on his part of the project without another complaint. You've never seen him work so studiously.

Pleased to say, with your motivation, Miles was more productive that day than all the other days combined.

------------

taglist! please lmk if u want to be added 🫶

@l5byrinth @iamspooderman

[serxinns]

Harsh words from a beloved friend

Forgotten reader au scenario

Btw this was inspired by this post right here, and the concept and AU are NOT mine. They belong to @lovelybrooke . If you want to know more about the AU and support the creator, please do. They need all the love for their hard work!

WARNING! Before you read this fic includes: violence towards the reader, bullying, infantilization towards the reader, xenophobia? (I think idk), yandere behaviors, manipulation, gaslighting, and other topics that I may have forgotten that are probably triggering as well read at your own risk

A/n: whew, it's done finally. I hope you like it, everyone! Please tell me if I did represent infantilization inappropriately or not accurately in the comments. Constructive criticism is allowed. Also, if anyone can tell me what the headboard represents, it means you get your request written next!

You were lying in your bed relieved at last after barely surviving another harsh day at UA ever since the teachers and your classmates found out about you and Shigaraki's relationship for things have been going crazy and downhill, Aizawa would always have a strange expression on his face as if he was ashamed of himself and pitying you, it felt strange and discomforting like he NOW realized his actions which ticked you off a little but you brushed it pretending to be nonchalant about it

Next was your former friend Izuku, ever since he heard the news he and his gang would make constant checks on you which was very unnecessary in your opinion, izuku would purposely get in the middle of you and Neito's conversation, asking about your concerns and try to get you to spill out how you currently feel in his intention to try to be a better friend again by comforting you in his imagination to your luck tho Neito would shoo him off before he could even continue and quickly drag you away which you thanked him for.

But Bakugo and his friends were the worst. If not worse hell. Every time you walk into the class, they start to give you piercing glares as if they intentionally want to make you tense up. Their words have been becoming harsher during training but you tried to ignore them until they started using physical threats under a ruse as "jokes" Honestly you were scared for your safety so you tried to avoid them as much as possible, begging either Neito or Shinso to assist you while dismissing their questions or concerns, not even thinking what could happen if you were to ever run into them alone

Whenever you are, you repeatedly check your surroundings, making sure nobody is following you, making sure the coast is clear enough to make a run for it in your dorms and locking it.

You were beginning to be more skittish and more anxious about your surroundings always getting started by every single touch on the shoulder or when your friends tried to get your attention, whenever they asked about your sudden behavior you quickly pushed it to the side or made excuses

One day you decided to eat lunch with Tamaki since Hitoshi and Neito were busy with training and stuff, the two of you didn't talk much when eating together but you were comfortable with his presence enough to make some small talk here or there then continued eating, as you were enjoying your lunch Tamaki spoke something out the blue "y/n..are you ok?" You stopped eating and looked up at him "Of course I am why wouldn't I be" Tamaki hesitated a bit but he continued "Y-you're acting all skittish all of a sudden whenever we talk you feel like someone or something is watching you please I'm your friend you can tell me anything-" "I'm fine Tamaki I promise you dont need to be asking me" Tamaki was taken aback at your quick response you noticed his guilty expression and took a deep breath

"I-I'm sorry I'm just stressed from all the tests and stuff you know hero stuff can be stressful" A chuckle left your mouth as you took another bite "Oh alright if you say so but if anything bothers you dont be afraid to c-come to me alright" you sighed in relief happy that Tamaki believed you so the Two if you continued with your lunch hang out

But that was so far from the truth

Tamaki knows when something is wrong especially when it comes to the people he cares deeply about, for example, he knows when Mirio is faking a smile or when he senses Neijire feeling uncomfortable or how Kirishima tries to stay determined even tho he can hear the slight tremble and stutter in his voice, and this time he now sees it more Cleary as he sees you slowly taking a bite out your food sweating in fear and your fingers twitch a bit it's so clear that you're nervous about something so why not tell him?

He swore to this day that he'd find out about whoever is causing you this, and he would protect you from them; for now, he just needs to keep a close eye on you from a distance...

When the two of you finished lunch, Tamaki offered to walk you to the class which you accepted as two if you walked towards your class in a comfortable silent, as you made it to the door you waved farewell to Tamaki and made it to your seat

As the class carried on and everyone was writing down notes for the next test, you couldn't help but feel some glares in you. Of course, you knew who they were, but you felt a particular glare, a glare that made your spine curl up. You wanted to ignore the feeling, but it just wouldn't go away, curious but scared you grabbed a mirror/glasses (just any object that fits with a mirror) faced towards you, and slowly rotated it to see a reflection of a couple of your classmates

It seemed fine everyone was either focused on their notes reading or doing whatever until it hit Kirishima... you jumped when his eyes were staring directly at the back of your head intensely his teeth almost showing as if he was gonna rip you apart after class, your heart rate was now increasing you tried to steady your breathing to cover up the fear and confusion, why was he looking at you like..wait of course you know why but why does it feel like he's gonna do something to me...

You looked around to see something or someone to save you from this situation until you remember you do not have anyone in this class to rely on and Neito and Shinso were extra busy, as the class bell rang everyone got up to their seats including Kirishima he began slowly walking towards you with a dangerous glint in his eyes you stood still shaking a bit in your seat trying your best to avoid contact he was inches away from your desk

As he was about to take another step, a sickly sweet voice came out of the blue and blocked your view between Kirishima and you. "Why don't we go to the library for tutoring? We haven't done it in a while, plus I'll help you improve!" You looked up that the black ponytail girl momo was it? The two of you would do tutoring together at the beginning when she began to "forget" them and just stop hosting and inviting you all together

You didn't like her sessions at all now that you remember she would always treat you like some sort of baby early on as if she was holding an animal picture book and pointing out all the animals and mimicking the noises you were so glad Kendo and teru eventually teached you

But it seemed like you didn't have a choice, but you would rather go with a ponytail than wanna know that guard dog would do; all you had to do was zone out of Momo's lessons and wait until it got dark to make an excuse to meet up with Kendo, perfect plan right?

The library would've been peacefully quiet if it weren't for Momo constantly getting your attention to look at some words that you already knew and then talk to you slowly so you could "understand" better you muster up a smile at best to reassure her that you were listening when in your mind you wanted to leave as fast as possible and meet up with Kendo

As the clock finally gave you mercy and struck 5pm, you hurriedly made an excuse to end today's session. "Oh man, momo, I think the tutoring session is up. Gotta leave!" You quickly got up, pulled in the chairs, and were about to walk out. "So soon? We just got started! Plus, I can do 2 more hours-" "Oh I would love to but I'm meeting up with Kendo and I don't wanna be a bad friend and ditch her" You didn't see Momo's cheery expression fall as you were too busy packing up and heading out the library "I'll see ya later!" You bid her as the door slammed shut the library became quiet once again with only the ponytail girl's blood boiling trying to keep her cool with a tight lip smile as she waved

You pull out your phone quickly texting her that you are coming which she replies with a smiley face emoji you chuckle texting her some memes and pictures as the two of you are spamming each other's memes back and forth you don't notice how much trouble you'll be in

As you accidentally bump into someone, you quickly backed away for a split second and apologized. You took your eyes out of your phone for a second to see who you bumped into to give them a proper apology and saw..

Oh no...

Kirishima

"You.." you mentally cussed as you backed away from him cautiously. "Oh uh hey-" "Don't 'hey' me, you traitor, you, Mole!" His anger was building up as he stomped towards you and pushed you on the ground; you could barely comprehend what the hell he was talking about and why he pushed you. "What-" "You sympathizer, you traitor. I don't even know how a villain like you could still be in this school!" His words are full of venom" "I know we were a bit harsh to you, but outing us out to the most dangerous fucking villain?! What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"I didn't know he was a villain nor did I know his name!? It's not like I knew he played video games!" "Again with these weak excuses, it was so obvious he was Shigaraki!" "Maybe I would've known I had friends and not be bullied by some blonde brute and his lapdogs!" Kirishima turned to you now with a more angry expression as if he was offended without a moment he grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and lifted you to his level

"You have no right to call us that when you're a simple Mole to a dangerous villain who is trying to kill us all!" He molded his other hand into a fist and reeled it back you bit his hand as hard as you could to make him let go but he bit his tongue and endured the pain even when his hand drew blood

As he was about to land a punch, a sudden tentacle came shooting out of nowhere toward Kirishima's free hand restraining it "Kirishima" The red hair froze at the familiarity of who that voice was, he slowly turned to see where the voice came from and only stopped mid way when he saw the indigo hair male, Tamaki his eyes glared at Kirishima in disappointment and betrayal, Kirishima quickly dropped you as you landed with a harsh thud, rude.

"T-Tamaki senpai!!, it's not what it is-" "insulting your classmate and was about to punch them? Yeah, seems how it exactly is." his words were cut off as he walked past him and toward you, gently helping you up and getting on your feet. "Are you okay? He didn't leave any bruises or marks on you, did he?" You shook your head, still in shock about Tamakis sudden behavior, as Kirishima's anger grew at the sight of the person he grew respect for that he looked up to! Is defending you?! He couldn't stand it

"Why are you defending them you don't know how much danger they put us through!" As Tamaki looked back at the boy with a serious expression," And, do you think bullying and degrading them is any better? This isn't something a hero should do, Kirishima. Have you ever thought about what they feel about it or if they intentionally wanted to?" Kirishima paused for a moment and didn't utter anything, only just avoiding his gaze. "I thought you were better than this, Kirishima; what happened to you being the "manliest hero in the hero alliance?" Was that all a ruse?" "N-no tamaki senpai it no-"

"I don't want you anywhere near me or them I don't respect someone who bullies others"

Those words shattered Kirishima as he looked in disbelief. His thoughts became a blur as he saw his mentor, his friend, leaving with his hands protectively around you, getting far away from him... was he the problem all this time?

Was he actually a lapdog?..

...

"Thanks back there you didn't have to." He stopped at his track and smiled. "No, It's fine. You weren't in the wrong anyway he was. Don't feel guilty for something you did that wasn't in your control." You looked up at him, surprised."You're not mad at me? even when I became a...mole?" That's when Tamaki embraced you with a warm hug "Of course not, even when you make a dangerous mistake like that it was the villain's fault for trying to get in your head and manipulate you but you stood strong and made the right choice by informing the teachers therefore you're not a traitor nor a Mole in my perspective"

Your eyes brimmed with tears with his words, "Thank you, thank you," as you hugged him back a little tighter. Was your luck finally turning around? Maybe not, but slowly, but at least you had more people who didn't see you as a nuisance, a child, or any traitor. It felt nice that you were treated as a human being Even if it was temporary.

A sudden buzz on your phone caught your attention, and it was still snuggled in your pocket. As you pick it up, you see a bunch of missed calls and messages from Shinso, Neito, and Kendo, all spamming concerns about your safety or if they needed to come. "Oh shit! I gotta run my friends are worried for me and Tamaki thank you I'm sure you're gonna be a great hero one day as you gave him one last hug before running off looking for you're friends before they hunt someone down to find you

Timeskip

The next day was a regular day as usual you went into class avoided everyone as possible (mostly Izuku and his gang) sat down at the back of the class and started the school day as you were doodling down stuff you noticed how dull and quiet Kirishima became when he usually would go to mina as they chat each other's ears off all-day but instead he stayed where he was and just looked down at his desk mina came over looking concern for him

"Hey Kirishima you ok man" The bubbly teen hit him on his shoulder playfully but he all did was look at her, nod, and go back to what he was doing which made the hair girl awkward and murmur an "ok" and sat back down when the teacher came in to start the lesson

Even at training, Kirishima didn't utter a single word to you or his friends. Even when they were teasing you, he just looked away. "Hehe, yeah, they're so weak, right? Kirishima, cmon say something!" His other friend Denki kept pressuring him poking his shoulder and urging him to speak but all smack his hand away and walked back leaving his friends in shock and disappointment

Even at lunch, he wasn't even interacting with anyone, just playing with his food as he barely ate. Everyone sat in silence and stared at him until his best friend finally spoke up, "The hell is up with your shitty hair?" He was then ignored as the red hair kept poking with his food staring down at it, making the blonde more irritated. He snatched his tray away and put it far from the table "Are you ignoring me?" Kirishima finally looked up at him with an annoyed expression "I just said millions of times I'm fine blasty so can I please have my food back" bakugo slammed his hand down hard infront of him

"Like hell you are! You've been acting quiet for the whole damn day! And It's getting pretty damn annoying, so spit it out. God damnit, I'm tired of this childish shit" "Kacchan chillout, . Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?" Denki butted him, trying to de-escalate the situation "he's right. What if he's having a bad day today? Or recently but he's right Kirishima we're all worried for you so please stop ignoring us and tell us" Everyone at the table joined him questioning and pressuring him to speak

He covered his ears not wanting to hear more without glancing a final Time at Tamaki and you talking and smiling at each other laughing tears began to brim his eyes as he got up from his seat and quickly ran out leaving his group and even Katsuki speechless

As he made it to the bathroom, he locked himself in there and took a deep breath. He then lifted his head and stared at the mirror, his reflection. "Why, just why did he have to go side with them fuck.." tears slide across his cheeks and fall through the sink he wanted to be angry at you so bad wanted to pin the blame on you or something to make him feel like he was in the right but the memories the flashbacks of how he and his friends mistreated you keep flooding back into his mind making him frustrated and yet gulity..?

Is he feeling guilty? For himself, no... for you, but how?! You're supposed to be the bad guy, not him. Why is he feeling remorse for you out of all people? Why does he suddenly feel like he wants to go on your knees and apologize it was supposed to be the opposite it's such a headache honestly and he couldn't make it stop he wants to stop thinking altogether

A knock at the door startled him and snapped him out of his thoughts. "Uh hey, is the bathroom available he stared at the door for a moment until he spoke up, clearing his throat, "Uh yeah, sorry! I'll unlock it!"

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

SKZ in a fist fight

Chan

This man is cruel and ON ONE. I’m talking during fights this man is doing anything. Scratching, stomping, strangling. Ain’t no shame in his game. Though he will feel guilty after he won’t during. He said “I want this to hurt.” And it did. He also is constantly changing. Like oh he realizes you have pocket sand? Bet. He got something for you. He said “embrace the process” and did.

Minho

Minho is the type who doesn’t fight. He calls the cops. Like I got “Fight who?🤨” vibes. You’re not worth it. You’ll never be worth it. He’s fighting nobody because Korea’s laws are shit and even if it’s self defense he can go to jail so quick. With that being said the verbal beating you’ll get will probably be worse than anyone’s fists could dish out.

Changbin

Changbin does not fight one on one. He gets his friends to jump you. And then he’s like “Oh wow guys you really stuck up for me!” All excited and stuff as if he didn’t call his whole friend group to beat on this one person.

Hyunjin

Me and my friend talk about him and Han (at least predebut) ALL THE TIME. Now…NOWADAYS Hyunjin is more conscious. He won’t fight you because if his career goes downhill for it he’ll crash out. He’s like “We’re adults. We’re mature. Why fight?” HOWEVER. Pre scandal Hyunjin was a CRASH. OUT. (The cards and his natal chart have both spoken.) I’m talking you’re running ones with everyone he knows if you’re running ones with Hyunjin. Verbal, physical, whatever ones you can run you’re running when it comes to him. And he enjoys it. He gets mad and he gets mad quick. And he’s probably been in plenty of fights because Temper + Side Eye = Someone’s swinging and it’s 50/50. But yeah now he’s chilled out he’s not fighting anything.

Jisung

SPEAKING of Han. Another one who calls his friends to fight you cause he knows he can’t fight. But he calls his friends then runs to the hills to get out of there. And there’s absolutely ZERO shame in his game. Then he’ll spread the video like he did sumn and lie about the entire situation like “Yeah I beat them up.” No you didn’t? Predebut Han would’ve probably had a stroke if someone tried to actually fight him though. He knows he can’t fight and it stresses him out even thinking of having to fight someone.

Felix

Felix is beating the breaks off you, whoever tries to step in, AND your mama for good measure (not literally.) everyone in the general vicinity can get some. He’s fighting you, your friends, whoever tries to hold him back, anyone watching who’s talking too much, AND the camera man if someone’s recording just to prove the camera man isn’t invincible. (Kinda exaggerating.) don’t be fooled by his general Felix-ness Felix gets DOWN.

Seungmin

Before I even pulled a card I immediately got “Peasants 🙄” he’s not fighting you. I’m literally getting “I know my worth.” He knows he’s better than you so why fight? You can fight his friends instead if you really wanna run a fade. But no one’s getting hands on him. And if they do, trust they’ll go bankrupt with the amount of lawsuits he’s filing. And honestly he’s so real for that.

Jeongin

He doesn’t fight. Point blank period. He’s tried once and he got beat so bad he’s scarred for life. If someone tries to fight him he’s RUNNING, hiding, calling the cops, calling his friends, calling their MAMA he doesn’t care as long as he gets out of an ass whooping. And he has absolutely zero shame in his game. And if worse comes to worse he has pocket sand, zero morals, the mentality to fight the dirtiest of dirty and PTSD.

As a group

This is how this goes. You start trying to beat on Jeongin, next thing you know Felix starts swinging and Seungmin’s on the phone with his lawyer, Minho’s recording because he’s just like that, Han is cheering Felix on in the background, Hyunjin is pulling that “Oh we’re adults we’re mature stop fighting.” Then he gets hit and he starts crashing out and he’s definitely like that feral fighter. I’m talking biting, scratching, grabbing your hair and your neck or whatever he could find, kneeing the balls. At least Felix sticks to punching, kicking, he’ll grab you maybe stomp you but Hyunjin just does whatever. Then Chan comes up and starts swinging like his life depends on it because he’s protective of the kids, Changbin is having his Y/N moment in the back like “Guys…This isn’t like you 🥹” even though he’s low key enjoying the drama.

It’s just a mess. A funny mess, but still a mess.

Also, Jeongin probably throws the pocket sand at some point during this fight just to help them.

[gh0stly-mp3]

hello

Can I ask about the blue lock characters, since the reader is male or gn is the boyfriend of the blue lock's characters, the important thing is that the reader is suffering from a serious illness in his body, and he did not tell your boyfriend about his illness, I want specific characters such as (Snuffy, Lavinho, and Chris Noa and Baro, Shoei and Kaiser, Julian and Shido, Sae and Oliver, and Otoya and Karasu)

Since you suggested several characters, I chose a few from these options, so I made the master strikers (might do a part 2 cause I really liked writing it)

your not alone -> bllk drabbles

master strikers x male!reader

synopsis: your boyfriend finds out that you have a severe illness and didn't tell them

tags: bllk drabbles, master strikers, angst w comfort, sick reader, male reader

warnings: manga spoilers, hurt/angst, severe illness mention, blood mention (in noa's), drugs/medicine mention (in lavinho's)

characters: master strikers :D

masterlist.

Noel Noa

You didn't want to disturb Noa; he was always busy with too much to handle, and you didn’t want to be a burden. But Noa is a very observant man, and he slowly started realizing that something wasn’t right. However, he decided to wait for you to tell him because he hated overstepping.

Neither of you talked about how your health was getting worse day by day, but Noa was becoming more and more worried about you.

Everything went downhill one day when you were watching TV with Noa and suddenly started feeling dizzy. You went to the kitchen to grab some water when you began coughing uncontrollably. Then, you saw red.

Noa went after you and saw the floor covered in blood, you holding on to the sink while more blood dripped from your mouth. Noa immediately went into full protective mode. He grabbed you and rushed you to the hospital as fast as he could while talking to you to make sure you stayed conscious.

After you were taken care of, Noa grabbed your hand tightly. You could see that he had cried. He looked you in the eyes and said: "Never do that again, please. I want to know everything, so I can take care of you..." - You nodded.

He was your boyfriend, and you would never be a burden to him. After that day, he drove you to all your medical appointments, made sure you took your meds, and ensured you had a healthy diet.

Chris Prince

You knew Chris would find out sooner or later; he loved taking care of you, especially when it came to your health, and eventually, he would notice that you couldn't do the things you once could.

It happened on a quiet afternoon when you were trying to make lunch. The simple task of chopping vegetables felt like climbing a mountain, and your hands shook with every cut. You were hoping he wouldn’t notice, but as he walked into the kitchen, his eyes immediately locked on you, concern furrowing his brows.

“Hey, are you okay?” - Chris asked, stepping closer.

“Yeah, just a bit tired.” - You tried to brush it off with a smile.

He raised an eyebrow. - “Tired? You look like you're about to pass out.” - He gently took the knife from your hand, his grip firm but tender. - “Sit down. What’s going on?”

You felt the familiar pang of guilt in your chest. Chris had always been the one to take care of you, not the other way around. And here you were, hiding something so big from him. - “I… I didn’t want to worry you,” - You murmured, your voice shaking. - “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Chris knelt in front of you, his hand lifting your chin so you’d look at him. - “You’re never a burden to me. You’re my everything, my sweet boyfriend.” - His voice was soft but full of urgency. - “What’s really going on?”

You sighed, unable to hold back anymore. - “I’ve been feeling worse, Chris. I'm ill... And I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes… I didn’t want you to worry.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, processing the words, before his arms wrapped around you tightly. - “Don’t you ever hide something like that from me again. I’m here, okay? We’ll get through this together.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of everything you’d kept hidden finally crashing down. - "I’m so fucking scared" - You whispered.

“I know” - He whispered back, holding you even tighter. - “But you don’t have to be. Not while I’m here.”

Lavinho

Lavinho was oblivious. He always thought that if you had something going on, you'd tell him immediately. So he was absolutely confused when he opened your drawer and found a bunch of medicine. For a moment, Lavinho thought you were selling drugs, but then he saw the prescriptions.

His heart sank, and in that instant, the past few weeks replayed in his head. He remembered how you started skipping practices, how you’d look exhausted after simple tasks, how your usual energy seemed to fade. You've been distant in a way that didn’t fit with the rhythm you two always shared, especially when it came to soccer.

His mind raced, panic setting in as he stood there, staring at the bottles. He wanted to believe there was an explanation — some innocent reason for all of this — but doubts crept in.

You're his boyfriend. His soccer duo. His best friend. You wouldn’t hide something like this from him, would you?

The sound of the front door opening broke his spiraling thoughts. He quickly stuffed the bottles back into the drawer, his heart pounding in his chest. You walked into the room, looking surprised to see him standing there, a mix of curiosity and concern in your eyes.

“Hey, what’s up, babe?” - You asked casually, though there was an edge to your tone that made Lavinho’s stomach tighten.

He swallowed hard, trying to sound normal. - “Porra [fuck]... I... uh, I was looking for something and... I found meds... Ai caralho [oh fuck]. - He ran his hand through his hair. - "Please tell me what's going on?”

For a second, you froze. Then, you let out a quiet sigh and sat down on the bed, not meeting his gaze.

“I'm sorry Lavi, I didn’t want you to worry” - You said with a shaky voice. - “I’ve been dealing with something, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I’m fine, really.”

Lavinho’s chest tightened. - "You’re shure?" - His voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear that had built up in him. - "Don’t lie to me, please."

You hesitated, finally looking up at him, the vulnerability in your eyes more than he could bear. - “Alright... I’m ill, Lavi. It’s been affecting me more than I thought. The medicine helps, but… I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

Without thinking, he crossed the room and sat next to you, taking your hand in his. - “You’re my partner” - He said, his voice steady despite the storm in his chest. - “We face everything together, 'kay? You should’ve told me. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever this is, we’ll get through it. But you can’t keep this from me. Not when it’s hurting you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself lean on him. Lavinho pulled you close. - “You’re everything. And we’ll figure this out, together.”

Julian Loki

Julian was always busy, flying everywhere. You two had hard times scheduling to see each other, and you wanted to tell him about your illness face to face, so he wouldn't freak out.

Eventualy, he was able to visit you for 3 days, and when he saw how exsausted you looked, he was shocked. He immediatly knew something was wrong, but he waited for the best moment to talk to you about it.

When you two were alone, cuddling on the couch, Loki brought it up gently. - "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"What do you mean?" - You asked, nervous that he had noticed something. You didn't want your first day together to be ruined by the news of your illness.

"You don't seem well, mon chéri." - He replied in his smooth voice while gently caressing your back. - "Please, tell me if something is wrong. I’m here for you."

These simple words made you break down in tears. How could he know you so well? Loki knew exactly how to approach you in a way that made you feel comfortable and loved.

When you finally calmed down, you vomited all the agony you had been feeling in the past few weeks in a messy ramble. Loki listened to you carefully as you told him about the diagnosis, the doctor visits, the constant anxiety, and how afraid you were to tell him.

He held you in silence for a while, gently caressing your back. "I'm here now. We'll get through this together, mon chéri."

Marc Snuffy

You were really scared to trigger Snuffy due to his past experience with losing someone, and he had an important match coming up and you were scared he wouldn't do that good if he knew it.

You told yourself that once he came back home you'd tell him. You didn't. He was so happy and cute you didn't want him to worry about your situation, you clould handle it.

You couldn't, not by yourself. But the weight of your fear kept growing heavier each day. One night, after Snuffy had returned from training, you were sitting together on the couch, watching a movie. He was laughing, his voice warm and comforting, but you were quiet, really quiet.

He paused, noticing the shift in your demeanor. - "Hey, what's wrong, amore?" - Snuffy asked gently, his gaze soft with concern.

"I..." you whispered, choking on the words. Your vision blurred as your chest tightened, and before you could say anything more, everything went black.

Snuffy rushed to you immediately, his arms supporting you as you slumped against him. His voice was calm and reassuring, his hands gently brushing your hair away from your face.

"Hey, hey, it's okay" - he murmured. - "You're safe. I’ve got you. I'm here"

When your vision was back to normal, Snuffy was right there, his worried eyes studying you. - "I'm sorry" - You mumbled, feeling a pang of guilt.

"Don't apologize. Just tell me what's happening" - He said softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek. Then, you told him everything from the start, and when you finished talking he kissed your forehead gently.

"You don't have to carry this alone. We’re a team, remember? Let me help you through this." - You nodded, feeling the weight slowly lift as Snuffy held you close, knowing that with him, you'd be okay.

[pamwritessometimes]

The Great Invasion: Chapter 2

Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: In a world turned upside down, where monsters hunt and hunters are the prey, Y/N must choose: follow the new rules to stay alive or join a rogue band of hunters determined to reclaim power and change the game for good.

General warnings: dark themes, gore, kind of apocalyptic vibes, language.

Chapter warnings: slight sexual innuendos, depression, ridiculous ghost talk, having dark flashbacks

Theme song of the chapter: Don't Ask Me No Questions by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Set after season 15.

Somewhat canon-divergent.

Catch up on Chapter 1 here

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: I Just Want A Little Peace Of Mind

This was… not as nice as the Mandarin Oriental. In fact, everything felt outdated and dusty, and the black satin pajama set you were kidnapped in didn’t help you feel any better — it just reminded you of the rapid downhill ride your life was taking. It was something you thought wasn’t even possible:

Everything to get worse.

The room that Castiel guy led you to was smaller than the bathroom of your last suite. While you were used to these kinds of digs back when you were a hunter, being the legendary champion of the First and Second Hunter Games had spoiled you with the perks of luxury. 

And not to mention that with that, you got another room that wasn’t quite yours.

Before you slammed the door in his face, Castiel mentioned that this room was one of the last available in the bunker. Apparently, they’d tried to clean it out, but some things from the previous owner stuck around thanks to the lack of storage space elsewhere.

A bunker. You were stuck in a goddamn bunker.

What a twist! Not only were you trapped in a completely unfamiliar place with strange people and the ex-Queen of Hell, but now you were a hunted target. Barbas wasn’t the type to let things slide.

It had been a couple of days now since you arrived, you assumed. You could hear chatter and occasional movements from other parts of the building, which you figured must be the other hunters Rowena had mentioned.

But somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the sturdy walls of your room. You didn’t want to face anyone out there, knowing they’d remind you of how you ended up here in the first place, something you never even wanted.

After a day or two of letting your anger fester, you decided enough was enough. Truth be told, boredom was starting to take over. The room didn’t offer much in the way of entertainment. You could work out — a habit that seemed to stick with you even after your captivity…though, to you, this also felt like captivity. 

Still, that didn’t exactly fill up the day.

So, you decided to search the room. Castiel’s words about a previous owner stuck with you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to them. Maybe sifting through the remnants of their stuff would give you some answers… and it might keep you busy for a bit, too.

Boredom and a healthy dose of curiosity got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were rooting through the various storage boxes you’d found tucked away in the corner of the room. They were a mix of old files, random junk, and a few forgotten knick-knacks that looked like they hadn’t seen the light of day in years. You came across a huge stash of R rated magazines, too.

Great.

Then, you stumbled across a stash of clothes that definitely screamed menswear, which now wasn’t much of a surprise to you: old tees, button-ups, and pajama pants that looked like they’d been on a permanent sabbatical from their glory days. Still, they fit the bunker aesthetic far better than your matching set, which was starting to feel like a bit much for this apocalypse-chic vibe. With a reluctant sigh and a ‘why the hell not?’ shrug, you decided to give it a go.

lThe pants were a nonstarter; they dragged behind you like a sad and worn wedding train, so you stuck with your own. But the flannel? Now that was a surprise. It hung loosely on you, the sleeves comically long, but there was something almost charming about it. And nothing a little roll-up sleeve couldn’t fix. The fabric was soft from years of wear, frayed at the cuffs in a way that made it feel like it had lived a hundred lives before landing on your shoulders.

What really sold you, though, was the smell. Despite their worn appearance, the clothes carried a faint, lingering fragrance, woodsy, warm, and somehow very comforting. Whatever its origin, it was soothing enough in this apocalyptic time to convince you the flannel was a keeper.

After your little bunker chic makeover moment, one box caught your eye. It was a bit more organized than the rest, filled with neatly stacked tape cassettes. Most of them were unlabeled, but one tape stood out. The label on it read: 

Dean’s Car Shaking Traxx

Well, that was… something.

Curious, you pried the tape from its resting place and noticed something odd as well: a tape player sitting smugly at the bottom of the box. A little old-fashioned, sure, but it was there. And, lo and behold, there was a set of headphones too, though slightly frayed at the edges but still in one piece. 

They both seemed to be in working condition.

You hadn’t heard any music in what felt like forever, not since Hell decided to make Earth its vacation spot. What was the last time you actually listened to songs for the sheer enjoyment of it? Probably it was with your dad before the Invasion. He used to take you out to concerts, your favorite bands, his favorite bands, on weekends. That tradition started when you turned sixteen, and he surprised you with tickets to an Aerosmith show. It became a regular thing, a tradition you kept up for years until—

You shook the thought away, eager for something that would make you feel normal, even if it was just for a few minutes. 

You plugged in the tape, set the headphones over your ears, and hit play.

“Well, Dean, please don’t be a country guy” you muttered, glancing down at the flannel you were wearing.

The first few chords kicked in, and you couldn’t help but smile.

CCR. 

Up Around The Bend.

You leaned back and thought the tape was crackling slightly, it didn’t matter and you didn’t care. For a moment, you could almost pretend the world hadn’t turned upside down and fish yourself a little piece of peace.

Castiel walked up and down the hallway, clearly waiting for someone. Every now and then, he'd glance at the different rooms and areas in the bunker.

The library was full of hunters, some reading lore books, others chatting casually. A few stayed in their rooms, likely dealing with their own thoughts — that he understood. None of them signed up for this. Others were at the shooting range, either to train for whatever came next or to numb their nerves about the whole situation, the sound of gunshots a clear indicator of it.

He had been running the bunker alone for what felt like ages. Jack was supposed to be back by now, and yet here he was, walking holes into the floor of the building. If he were human, his feet would’ve been screaming by now.

Suddenly, he froze. A familiar voice hit his ears coming from the hall from the west side of the building.

“No, no, explain it to me again” Dean’s voice rang out, equal parts frustrated and confused. “What do you mean Hell invaded Earth? How the hell does that even happen? And where the hell was Rowena—?”

Another voice, Jack’s this time, came. “I told you, Dean. Demons came up earthside, unleashing every monster they could find.”

"When did that even happen?” Sam asked, the confusion clear in his voice.

Castiel took a deep breath and started walking towards them, dreading two facts: one, it’d been Jack knows how long since he met the Winchesters; and two, it seems Kid God didn’t brief them in entirely.

It wasn’t necessarily the reunion he once hoped for.

He rounded the corner, and there they were. Dean, leaning against a table, rubbing his face as if he could somehow erase the last few hours from his brain. Sam, on the other hand, was pacing the room like a human tornado, clearly trying to solve a puzzle that was missing half its pieces and the other half was written in hieroglyphics.

Both of them looked… well, confused and mildly pissed, to put it lightly. But honestly, who wouldn’t be? Their perpetual, much-deserved heavenly nap had been rudely interrupted by yet another apocalypse. They’d dealt with more end-of-the-world scenarios than any human ever should, and now, it seemed they couldn’t even catch a break in the afterlife.

But the second they saw their long-time-no-see friend, everything seemed to stop. Time hung for a beat.

Dean blinked as he caught the eyes of the blue-eyed angel.

"Cas?" his voice cracked slightly, his lips twitching into a genuine smile.

Sam’s face softened too, once he glanced at his old friend.

Dean took a step forward, pulling him into a tight hug. Then, Sam wrapped his arms around both of them, the three of them standing there for a moment in a rare moment of peace. Like the world wasn’t crumbling outside, like there wasn’t a bloody, chaotic mess waiting to tear them apart.

Castiel smiled, a strange nostalgia creeping through his perpetual mind. 

Yet, he cleared his throat as he reluctantly pulled away. "It’s good to see you again, too" His gaze flicked from Dean to Sam. "Though I wish it was in a better situation. I'm sorry we had to interrupt your Heaven. But the world... it’s in chaos. Hell’s on Earth, literally."

Dean pulled back slightly, his grin fading into a more serious expression. "Yeah, I figured this wasn’t gonna be all hugs and ‘how’s afterlife’. Can’t even let a guy rest in goddamn peace."

Then, Jack turned to Cas. “Was everything alright while I was gone?”

The angel nodded, then added, “Rowena’s back as well.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “She brought her, too.”

Jack's smile widened a little as he processed the news. 

“That’s good” He then turned to Sam and Dean with a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Come on. I want you to meet everyone here.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “Everyone?” he echoed, sharing a quick glance with Dean before the two followed Jack toward the war room.

As they entered the room, the on-going conversation quieted and was replaced by the weight of at least a couple dozen curious stares, all pointing to their direction. Hunters of all kinds were scattered around the room. Some were fairly young, almost teens, a few of them older, battle-worn and their expressions ranged from intrigued to wary, all fixed on the newcomers.

Dean furrowed his brows, his gaze sweeping the crowd. Despite the enormous size of the bunker, the room suddenly felt suffocatingly small. It reminded him of the time they offered their home to the refugees from Apocalypse World — except now, it wasn’t just a handful of people.  This was at least three times that number, maybe more.

He glanced and Sam and then muttered, “Guess we missed the memo about this place turning into Grand Central Hunter Station.”

Sam pointed a glare at him, then turned to Jack. “So… what are we facing here, again?”

Guns N’ Roses blasted through your headphones, drowning out every thought except the music. You made it your mission to listen to every cassette tape you found in the boxes. By the time you hit cassette number three’s flip side, the music was doing its job at making you feel a bit calmer a little too well. Your eyelids got heavier with every riff and before you knew it, you’d dozed off against the headboard. 

The music was loud enough to block out the creak of the door opening, but not the voice that followed.

“Why’s there a chick in my room?” a gruff voice demanded. A pause. Then louder, like the words were physically offensive: “Listening to my damn tapes? Wearing my damn clothes?”

Maybe that last part didn’t bother him as much as the rest, though he wasn’t about to admit it. He was too busy scowling and reminding himself that this room, his room, was supposed to be his sanctuary. Instead, here you were, in his flannel, looking entirely too cozy and he woudln't admit it out loud, but also borderline irresistible for someone squatting in his space.

Or was this Jack’s way of saying, Sorry I yanked you out of Heaven, but hey, thanks for agreeing to help me clean up yet another apocalyptic mess!?

Because if so—

But before Dean could spiral further, you jolted awake at his raised tone. Your heart pounded as your survival instincts kicked in. Adrenaline surged and without fully registering who or what you were looking at, you lunged your fists.

“Whoa!” Dean yelped, stumbling back as your fist connected with his chest. He rubbed the spot but barely flinched, barely feeling anything. It was more the act that bothered him. “What the hell was that for?”

Your breath hitched as you glared at him, still half-asleep and wildly defensive. “Who the hell are you, and why are you in my room?”

“Your room?!” Dean repeated, incredulous. “Lady, this is my—” He didn’t finish before you aimed a swift kick at his shin.

Dean sighed, though it was clear he wasn’t actually hurt. “Okay, seriously, what is your deal?”

“My deal?!” You shot back, breathless and still glaring. “You’re the one creeping around in my room, touching my tapes!”

Dean stopped mid-reach for his cassette player, looking at you with a frown.

“Touching your—?” Dean sputtered, clearly at a loss. “This is literally my room, and you’re wearing my—”

Before things escalated further and you could throw another useless punch in his direction, a firm hand landed on your shoulder.

“Y/N” Castiel’s voice cut in, calm and steady. “This is Dean Winchester. He is, technically, the original owner of this room... and much of what’s in it.”

Your brain paused mid-comeback. You glanced at the man, Dean, then down at the flannel you were wearing, and finally at the stack of tapes you’d been working through.

Wait. This guy made those awesome tapes? This is the guy whose flannel I’m wearing?

Dean didn’t miss the realization dawning on your face.

“Yeah” he said dryly, crossing his arms. “That’s my flannel. And my tapes. And my room.”

Castiel sighed, already sensing the incoming argument. “Dean” he said flatly. “you died.”

Dean turned to him. “Yeah, well, guess what, Cas? I’m back.”

“Technically…”

Dean’s frown deepened. “What?”

“Technically” Castiel continued, “you’re not back in the way you used to be. You’re a spirit now, Dean. You don’t need sleep, which means you don’t need a room.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “‘Scuse me?”

You finally found your voice again, snapping your attention to Castiel. “Wait, wait, what the hell do you mean he died?”

“Y/N—” Castiel started, but you weren’t done.

“No, seriously, what the hell?” you repeated, panic and confusion rising. “Are you saying he’s a ghost? Or, like, a demon or something? How the hell did he even get in here?”

“He is not a demon” Castiel said, cutting you off. “And he’s here because Jack brought him back.”

“Am I supposed to know who this Jack guy is? And why are you saying he ‘brought him back’ like that’s supposed to make this sound less insane?”

Dean threw his hands up in the air, clearly done with you, starting to pace the room. "Great. How is she supposed to be a part of this team if she doesn’t even know who Jack is? Does she even know our lore?” He shot a glance at Castiel, as if begging for some backup, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Do you know my lore?” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How about the fact that I literally crawled out of the deepest pits of demon's hell just to survive, and now I'm stuck in this insane supernatural soap opera? Pretty sure I didn’t sign up for this mess.”

Dean stopped pacing and turned to face you. “Listen, princess, I’m not exactly thrilled about this either, but guess what? The world’s ending. Again. And we don’t have time for your pity party.”

“Oh, princess? Real original, flannel boy” you fired back, stepping even closer, toe-to-toe now. “You think you’re so high and mighty because you’ve been doing this longer? Look where it got you! And mewsflash: your tapes aren’t that good.”

Alright, that last part was just you being pity.

Dean gasped like you’d just kicked his puppy. “Not that good?!”

“That’s right, you heard it.”

“You’ve got a big mouth, you know that?”

“And you’ve got a big ego” you snapped back, your pulse inexplicably speeding up as you met his fiery gaze. Up close, you could see the freckles dusted across his face and the slight dots in his green irises, and the way his upper lip curved into a perfect cupid bow. You weren’t sure if you wanted to smack him or just—

“Enough” Castiel interjected, his tone like a bucket of ice cold water thrown on fire. He stepped between the two of you, looking like a frustrated parent breaking up a sibling fight.

Dean and you both took a step back, muttering under your breaths.

“Y/N” Castiel began, his blue eyes meeting yours, his voice calm but firm. “You need to understand. Jack isn’t just anyone. He… well…Jack is… essentially God. Or, at least, the closest thing to God we have now.”

You blinked at him while his words were bouncing around your brain like pinballs. “Wait, what?”

“He’s God” Dean said bluntly, clearly enjoying your disbelief. “The big man upstairs took early retirement for being a shithead, and Jack stepped in to take over. He’s the one keeping this whole crapshow from falling apart.” Dean then leaned toward Castiel, loudly whispering, “So, I’m guessing she also doesn’t know he’s Lucifer’s kid?”

Your eyes shot to Castiel, disbelief written all over your face. “Lucifer’s kid?”

Cas nodded.

“Let me just repeat: wait, WHAT?” You threw your hands up, pacing a small, frustrated circle before spinning back to face them. “So, let me get this straight. Ghost-boy over here” you jabbed a finger at Dean, “is somehow back because the world’s new Devil-God hybrid thought it was a good idea?”

Dean crossed his arms and looked rrather affronted. “Ghost-boy? Seriously?”

“Jack’s not the devil” Castiel said, voice steady and soothing like he was talking to a toddler. “Far from it. He’s actually the one who fixed what Chuck, uh, the former god, broke.”

You let out a slow, sarcastic chuckle. “Oh, sure. The perfect way to fix God’s mess: The Devil’s spawn. Makes total sense.”

Dean let out an exasperated groan. “Alright, you are just impossible.”

“And you are dead” you shot back. “So maybe take a seat, Flannel Casper.”

Dean let out a dry laugh, the kind that oozed disbelief. “Flannel Casper? Oh, that’s real funny. Guess what, sweetheart? This ain’t your room. It’s mine. You’re the squatter wearing my shirt.”

You shot him a glare, tugging the oversized shirt tighter around you. “Well, maybe you should’ve labeled it before you kicked the bucket, Flannel Casper.”

“I swear, if you call me that one more time—”

“What? You gonna haunt me harder?”

“I’m resurrected, not haunting” Dean corrected. “And as much as I’m loving this little spat, Cas is right. Jack’s the real deal. He’s a kid with God-level powers trying to fix what’s broken. Cut him some slack.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving Dean an unimpressed look. “And how’s that working out? Because from where I’m standing, the world’s still a total dumpster fire.”

Castiel sighed deeply, his expression softening a little, clearly happy Dean is at least trying to calm you down now. “We know. We all know. But that’s why we’re here, trying to fix it.” He gave a quick glance toward Dean before turning back to you. “Look, we’re not asking you to like it. Just to… cooperate.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “There’s a meeting tonight at six in the war room. It’s just down the hall.We’d like you to join us.”

He then glanced at Dean and nodded toward the door, silently asking him to lead himself out and let you weigh his words. He sighed, but complied nevertheless.

You narrowed your eyes at his back as he left, but you had to admit, something about the whole situation made you curious. You glanced at Castiel, who was still standing there, his expression unreadable.

“Do we really have God in this bunker?” you asked, finally breaking the silence.

Cas nodded slowly. “Yes. Jack’s on our side. In fact, he’s the one who organized this.”

Your gaze fell to the floor, shaking your head slightly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me" you mumbled in disbelief.

"Believe me, I'm bad at kidding."

He then turned to leave but paused at the door.

“We’ll be in the war room at six. Think about it.”

And with that, he was gone. You leaned back against the door, arms crossed, your mind a whirlwind of frustration, disbelief, and a healthy dose of curiosity.

God-level powers. Devil’s kid. The Great Invasion. It all felt like you were stuck in the worst kind of fever dream. You couldn't decide if you wanted to scream, cry, or run. Or maybe all three.

By six p.m., the war room was packed. Well, almost packed.

You, of course, were missing.

It was the first official meeting for the hunters living in the bunker. Some had been here for over a year, while others had only recently joined. They’d all arrived, courtesy of Castiel, Jack, or whatever angel Jack had managed to charm into playing cosmic Uber. Some unlucky souls, like you, were recruited, or more like brought here without their consent by Rowena. At first, the whole thing had been met with skepticism. And who could blame them? An underground bunker full of demon traps seemed too good to be true. But, given that hunters were now the ones being hunted, this was their best shot at survival.

And now, with you and the Winchesters finally being dragged into the fold, the recruitment process was officially over. They’d rounded up every hunter in sight. The team was complete and now, it was time to figure out what the hell came next.

But none of that really mattered to you. You were currently in your room, headphones in, pretending that a meeting about saving the world was the last thing on your to-do list. Who needs that noise when you could be busy being a reluctant background character in their season finale of Apocalypse: Part 230?

You leaned back in your chair, giving the ceiling a long, judgmental stare. Maybe you’d just sleep through the whole thing. It’s not like you were going to be much help. And honestly, your bed was giving off some serious come lay down and avoid your responsibilities vibes. A good ten hours of sleep sounded like just the thing to get you through the next apocalypse.

Your body, however, had other ideas. Four days of solid room service (courtesy of mystery snack fairy) had only fueled your inner hermit, and the clock on your nightstand didn’t lie: you were starving. You had no intention of facing the others, though.

So, for now, you'd been making it work. Snacks magically appeared at your door. Just a knock, and then bam. A tray of food, like some weird, celestial version of Grubhub. You’d never figured out who was behind it, but you were grateful, even if you missed Rommer's presence sometimes and the meals he brought.

Today, however, there was no knock. No food. No magical snack delivery.

You glanced at the clock again. Six ten.

Your stomach grumbled in protest. Fine. Maybe you’d have to venture out and loot some food yourself. At least with everyone at that meeting Castiel was blabbering about, you might have a shot at swiping something before anyone noticed.

You sighed, dramatically flopping your feet onto the cold concrete floor and headed out of the room.

“This place is like a goddamn maze” you muttered as you wandered down the hallway.

You’d been wandering for what felt like hours, but only was probably a solid five minutes, trying to remember whether you’d just passed the same door for the third time or if you’d entered some cruel parallel dimension where all hallways looked suspiciously identical. At the end of your latest path, you spotted one lonely doorway, and figured, why not?

You stepped into the threshold, but then froze.

And you’d probably still be standing there, wondering what cruel joke the universe had played on you, if not for the fact that what you found on the other side was, well... a bit of a shock.

The room in front of you was packed.

Your eyes scanned the scene: hunters of all shapes, sizes, and moods. Some looked like they had been at it for decades, their faces as hard as their weapons. Others looked more like they were holding on to whatever shred of humanity was left in a world gone to hell. 

So I guess I found the war room, you thought sarcastically.

Your brain had no idea what to do with this. This was the first time you’d stepped out of your room. This was the first time you were actually face-to-face with any of them. Well, all of them.

They were looking back at you, and that, for some reason, scared the shit out of you.

“Is that—” A voice whispered from across the room.

“What the hell is she doing here?” another one piped up, followed by a chuckle laced with disbelief.

“She can’t kiss demons’ asses out of death here” someone else muttered.

Well, isn’t that just peachy? Your reputation had clearly made the rounds before you even had the chance to make an entrance. Perfect.

You had this gut feeling, the kind that whispered, Stay in your room. Don’t go. It’s not worth it. And damn, how you wished you’d listened to it. But hunger had a way of overriding any form of common sense, and now here you were, in the lion’s den.

You clenched your jaw, every fiber of your being screaming at you to turn around and retreat back to your room, where the worst you’d have to face was your own reflection. But instead, you planted your feet firmly in place, squared your shoulders and made an unspoken promise to yourself that you were not going to let their words get to you. You were better than that, right?

Or at the very least you could look like you didn’t care.

The whispers grew louder, the judgment palpable as more people recognized you. A few hunters exchanged glances so loud, they might as well have been shouting.

“She’s gonna get us all killed.”

“Should’ve left her out there where she belongs.”

Nice. A real welcoming crowd.

Dean, sitting at the table and clearly having a moment of ‘where the hell did all this drama come from,’ glanced over at you. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he somehow saw through the tough act you were putting on. Beneath all that bravado, he could see the raw and jagged edges of hurt just begging to break free.

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, Dean couldn’t help himself. He turned to Castiel with a mischievous smirk, his voice was dripping with curiosity about you. 

"So, room squatter’s real popular here, huh? What’d they mean she can’t kiss demons’ asses out here?"

“It’s… complicated” the angel replied, just realizing Dean is still a bit behind on this whole story. “She, uh, she won the Hunter Games twice.”

Dean squinted, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Wait, that teen novel from the 2010s? With the guy with the bread name?”

Cas rolled his eyes with a quiet, almost exasperated sigh. “No. Not that. It’s a game demons set up for hunters they capture. They… They fight for their lives in an arena against monsters. And she was very favored by the monster crowd.”

Dean’s face contorted, his brain clearly still struggling to process the concept of Hunter Games, but he kept his mouth shut. His attention shifted back to you, standing there like a lion tamer on the edge of snapping.

Stubborn. Broken. Probably both at once.

It finally clicked. You weren’t just some random face in the room. You’d been through hell. Literally. No wonder the anger radiated off you like a force field. You’d been fighting demons for who knows how long. And now, here you were, in a room full of strangers judging you without even trying to understand you.

You opened your mouth to say something about maybe just finding the kitchen (if this place even had one), but before you could get the words out, you were cut off.

“Welcome! You can take a seat, if you’d like to” Jack offered you an encouraging nod.

For a split second, you froze, staring at the guy like you were trying to solve a riddle. Was this guy, with the warm smile and the kind eyes, really God and Lucifer’s kid? 

And if this kid was truly God… Should you bow? Kneel? Say Hallelujah? Maybe throw in a spontaneous hymn for good measure? You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for meeting a divine offspring, but your instincts were telling you that flinging yourself on the floor wasn’t exactly the best approach.

So, you did the only reasonable thing. You followed his simple instructions.

Your feet felt like lead as you stepped into the room, the stares burning into your back even without you actually seeing them. You spotted an empty chair near the edge of the group, far enough from the center of attention but close enough to hear whatever grand plan they were about to lay out.

As you slid into the chair, someone across the table muttered just loud enough to be heard “Hope she doesn’t screw things up.”

Without missing a beat, you shot back.

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave the screwing up to you.”

A few hunters snickered, and the guy who’d spoken, Joe as you later learned, glared at you like he was about to unleash some righteous indignation but ultimately decided against it.

Smart choice.

Dean leaned toward Sam with a smirk. “Feisty. I like it.”

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered under his breath, “Can we focus, please? Wait…” His eyes narrowed as he glanced at you. “Is that your shirt she’s wearing?”

Dean grinned like a kid caught stealing cookies. “Hot, innit?”

Sam facepalmed, but before the verbal sparring could go any further, Jack stepped in.

“Thank you all for coming to this meeting. Some of you may know me, but for the newcomers, my name’s Jack” he said, his eyes sweeping across the room. “We’re here because this is it. Hell’s armies are growing stronger every day, and we’re running out of time. We have to find a way to stop them before they overwhelm us completely.”

Dean, now leaning forward with his elbows on the table, raised an eyebrow. “Alright. What’s the play? Because I’m guessing you didn’t pull us all together just to give us a ‘rah-rah, go team’ speech.”

Jack gave a faint smile but didn’t lose his serious tone. “As you all know, Hell revolted against Rowena’s new leadership. They didn’t like her reforms, making Hell less about eternal suffering and more about, well… governance.”

Your brows furrowed. 

Wait a damn minute. 

That didn’t match what you’d been told at all. Alright, demons weren’t exactly known for their honesty, but if what Kid God was saying was true, then Rowena’s leadership wasn’t the tyrannical nightmare you’d been led to believe.

Was she… not as bad as Barbas and his demon cronies had painted her?

“Every revolution has a leader” Sam said, clearly still piecing the Great Invasion together in his head. “Who led the uprising?”

“It was a demon named Malgathor.” 

The name poked at your brain just a bit, nagging like an itch you couldn’t scratch. Malgathor. You’d heard that name before. But where?

Before you could follow the thread, it hit you — a sharp and searing pain flashing into and through your skull, so sudden and intense it felt like someone was trying to peel your brain apart from the inside with a crowbar.

Your hands shot to your temples as you squeezed your eyes shut and that’s when you saw it.

A dimly lit room. Fancy but not ostentatious. Mandarin Oriental vibes, but more… utilitarian. Probably somewhere in its basement.

You were sitting in a chair, restrained. Across the room, faceless figures moved, one stepping closer. There was something about him that sent a chill crawling up your spine and you instinctively started to tremble.

And then, a voice.

“Hey!” the figure shouted. Harsh, commanding. “Hey! Are you okay?!”

But the voice twisted as the vision fractured, morphing into something softer. Female.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

You blinked hard, the image shattering like glass as reality crashed back in. The dim light was gone, replaced by the suddenly too bright fluorescents of the bunker. Dozens of eyes were on you, their expressions ranging from concern to confusion.

A blonde woman had her hand on your shoulder. “You okay there?” she asked, her voice cautious, like she was afraid you might snap at any moment.

You swallowed hard.

What the hell just happened?

You straightened, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’m fine” you muttered, though you were acutely aware of how not fine you looked. Your face was pale, your hands trembling like you’d downed five espressos too many.

Dean’s eyed you from the other side of the table. “Fine? You just looked like someone plugged your brain into a car battery. That doesn’t scream fine to me.”

You shot him a look, equal parts defiant and exhausted. “Where were we?”

Dean frowned, clearly unsettled by your lack of snark. No witty comeback? No biting remark? That wasn’t you, not like he knew much about what was you. But if he learned anything from his one encounter with you was that you never shut up. His eyes stayed focused on you a moment longer and he couldn’t help but catch the slight tremor in your hands that you thought you were hiding so well.

Before he could press further, Sam shifted the focus. “Malgathor?” he said, his brows knitting together in thought. “How come we’ve never heard about him before?”

“Because he liked Fergus’ version of Hell” Rowena’s Scottish accent chimed in.

Your gaze flicked to her and your eyes narrowed instinctively. Something about her perfect red curls and sharply lined crimson lips rubbed you the wrong way, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. But then Jack’s words about her earlier came rushing back. Nobody else in the room seemed suspicious. Hell, they barely batted an eye at her presence.

Was it possible… she wasn’t the villain you’d been led to believe?

“Malgathor had no interest in causing trouble before. Fergus, for all his flaws, kept Hell… predictable. Contracts, misery, order. But when I took over and began implementing reforms, he turned on me. Violently.”

“Reforms?” you asked before you could stop yourself, the word tasting strange in your mouth. “What kind of reforms are we talking about here?”

Rowena’s eyes flicked to you, and for a moment, her expression softened. “I ended crossroads deals, stopped the eternal suffering racket, gave the damned something resembling purpose. Needless to say, it didn’t sit well with the traditionalists.”

You blinked, your brain working overtime to reconcile this version of her with the one you’d been told about by the demons who’d dragged you through hell. Had they lied? Twisted the truth? It wouldn’t be the first time.

“So” Dean said, his voice drawing everyone back. “This Malgathor guy was all-in on the Crowley’s Hell playbook, huh? Contracts, fire, long-ass lines, the whole nine yards?”

“Precisely, dear” Rowena replied, her lips curling into a grim line. “Only now, he’s expanded his vision. No longer content with Hell as it was, he’s decided to extend its boundaries. Permanently.”

Sam straightened, his brow furrowing. “You mean… he’s trying to bring Hell topside?”

Rowena nodded. 

“Not just bring it topside, Samuel. Recreate it. The whole planet, one giant pit of eternal torment, chaos, and misery. He’s determined to make Earth Hell’s crowning jewel — greater than it ever was below.”

You sat back, watching the pieces click into place for everyone else, but your mind was spinning in a different direction. Malgathor’s plan sounded insane, sure, but it also felt oddly familiar. Like you’d heard of something similar before.

“What’s the plan, then?” Dean asked, breaking the tense silence. “How do we stop this Hell wannabe dictator?”

Jack finally spoke. “We need to find his residence. He’s cloaking himself with magic strong enough to evade even me.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Even you? Aren’t you, like, God 2.0? Shouldn’t that come with a built-in demon GPS?”

“It’s not that easy, Dean” Jack said simply, then turned to you. “I may not have the means to find him… but someone might have heard something about him.”

You froze. The sudden shift in attention made your skin crawl. “Oh, no” you muttered, holding up a hand that was still trembling just a little. “Don’t look at me like that. I have no idea who this Malgathor is.”

Joe, that hunter guy from earlier shot his eyebrow up. “Oh, come on, champ. You’ve been cozying up to demons for how long? You’re telling me not one of them dropped Malgathor’s name during happy hour?”

“Cozying up to demons? Is that what we’re calling ‘being tortured and barely surviving’ now?” you snapped at him.

Sam’s eyes flicked between you and Joe, sensing the brewing storm. “Okay, let’s all just—”

“No” Joe cut him off, leaning forward with a smug look on his face and his arms crossed. “I’m serious. If anyone here knows anything about Hell’s A-list psychos, it’s her.”

“Wow, thanks” you shot back, voice laced with venom. “Really nice to know my trauma has made me your go-to demon Rolodex.”

Dean muttered a low, amused yikes under his breath, but Joe either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

Rowena cleared her throat. 

“Perhaps, instead of bickering like children, we could ask the right questions.” Her gaze landed on Joe then softened as it moved to you. It seemed uncharacteristic of her and infuriatingly annoying to you. “Y/N, dear, I understand you’ve been through… well, hell. But even the tiniest scrap of memory could make all the difference.”

“I said” you repeated and drew each word out slowly and sharper than a demon blade. “I. Don’t. Know.”

And with that, you decided this conversation was over.

Next on The Great Invasion (Sneak Peek from Chapter 3):

He picked up the silky fabric that you immediately recognized as your pajama top from earlier. “Except for this. Didn’t take you for a fancy PJ girl… But I gotta admit, this looks nice.”

But my shirt looks better on you, he thought, as he placed the black satin on the chair next to you.

“Dean… I swear, if you don’t get the hell out of here—”

Instinctively, your hand shot under the bed, grabbing the box of rock salt you’d stashed there for just such occasions.

“Woah, no need to get antsy” he said, moving his hands up in surrender.

You chuckled, glancing at the salt in your hand with a wicked smirk. “Wait, does this really work on you?” You raised an eyebrow.

Hey, you! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Looking fantastic in his shirt. 😉

All jokes aside, I hope you had fun reading Chapter 2 of The Great Invasion. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 3: coming soon!

🤍Series taglist🤍

@thebiggerbear @spnaquakindgdom @artyandink @globetrotter28 @kaz-2y5-spn @hobby27 @lamentationsofalonelypotato @muhahaha303 @yeehawgiddyup13 @applelovesposts

🤍Jensen taglist🤍

@roseblue373

[alex-thegiraffeboyy]

Chapter 4: Promise

Bewitched Masterlist

Summary: You cope with the loss of your loved ones and try to reconnect with someone you thought was dead.

WARNINGS❗: Violence, descriptions of death, panic attacks, almost death, reference to reader working in a brothel (nothing explicit), blood.

Words: 2.4K

A/N: As I said in one of my posts, writing this was very difficult because I just want to make comfort for my wife. Maybe I'll write a shot or two apart from this fanfic. Let me know if you are interested! (And sorry for this chapter)

You were right. They should never have done that job.

Now they were all dead.

After their first kiss they never talked about it again. They didn't have time (much less when they were interrupted by their brothers who wanted to see if everyt

hing was okay). So yep, they never talked about how they felt.

And now they lost that opportunity forever.

After robbing the townhouse upstairs everything started to go downhill. Mylo got them in trouble and soon after the enforcers arrived. From then on everything went from bad to worse. Until it came to this.

Your friends, dead.

You weren't there when it all happened. You couldn't have been. After witnessing Benzo's death you fell into a nervous breakdown. You tried to comfort Ekko, but your breathing was getting shallower and shallower and the tears were building up faster and faster, but you still managed to stay calm enough to climb down from the roof with Ekko to unlock the door that locked Vi.

After opening the door you stood with Ekko, you heard him say a couple of things to Vi, you even felt him move away from your side to get closer to her, but you didn't move an inch. Your head felt empty and your gaze felt blurry. A white noise buzzed in your ears. You thought you heard Vi speak, but, again, you didn't understand what she was saying. Your mind had only an image playing over and over and over and over....

And over again.

The screams of the executioners and the sound of gunshots.... The muffled sound of bodies falling to the ground. The image of your brother, paralyzed from his hiding place on the roof, watching everything, as always. You didn't stop him in time, but you had no way of knowing what was going to happen. They both heard Benzo cursing the person in front of them (Silco, she seemed to remember) and Vander trying to stop him. The next thing they heard was a thump and Vander's scream. They saw the blood splatter and heard the loud clang of metal against the floor. And from there they saw the body of the man who had adopted them. Bleeding out on the floor. And at some point you managed to get out of shock and hugged Ekko against your chest, preventing him from seeing what was happening in front of you. But you saw it all. Vander being beaten again and again, the blood spilled, the executioner who delivered them and the man leaving as the creature dragged Vi's father away. All the while you felt your brother trembling against you, sobbing silently. Clinging to the only family he had left. And you clung to him too, trying to comfort him (and yourself too) as you watched the spectacle of blood in front of you.

The bodies. The empty looks. The violence. It was all in your head.

But maybe, maybe if you had insisted more. If you'd stopped Vi, if you hadn't given in to helping them, maybe you could have prevented this, maybe Benzo would still be alive and Vander would be safe, maybe we all....

"Sunshine"

Suddenly it all disappeared, her voice and her hand on your shoulder bringing you abruptly back to reality. You blinked a couple of times before you could focus on her in front of you. Vi looked worried. She gently brought her hand to your cheek, holding and caressing it as her other hand slid from your shoulder to your waist gently. You saw her turn to Ekko, nodding to him before he left the room.

A little later you realized. You were shaking.

Once Ekko left the room your tremors increased more and more, tears ran hot down your cheeks one after another while your breathing became shallower and shallower.

Your head was spinning and you felt like you couldn't breathe. Your legs failed, but Vi, as quick and observant as ever, held you up before you had a chance to fall. She held you against her and gently guided you both to sit on the floor as you hid in the crook of her neck. She held you tightly against her chest as she too let out some of her own pain.

And all was silent for a moment.

Until it wasn't.

First she heard a muffled sound, a sob, she thought. But it came again and she felt you writhing against her. Quickly she forced her body away from yours and looked at your face, painted in a horrifying mixture of pain and panic. In a panicked voice she asked you what was wrong, but you couldn't answer. You shook your head, eyes wide and one hand holding your shirt. She saw you squirm a couple of times before she noticed. You couldn't breathe properly.

However, she remembered seeing you help Powder at some point where her sister had had some panic or anxiety attack. So she could only replicate your actions. She held your free hand and brought it up to her chest while her other hand held your neck and part of your jaw.

Vi softly whispered your name, looking at you gently and firmly, capturing your attention "Breathe with me, okay? Can you do that for me?" Despite the nervousness and anxiety that was also boiling in her chest, Vi tried to regulate her heartbeat to give you some reassurance. Something to hold on to. "Feel my heartbeat, focus on that."

A few moments passed like that, until you finally managed to get your breathing back together a little and a sob mixed with an attempt to cough came out of you, letting out relieved sigh from Vi's lips "There you are, honey" A clearer sob came out of you before you started crying again, but this time more calmly "You're doing great, love" she slowly brought your foreheads together until you had them against each other.

A restless part of her wanted to run out and find Vander. She needed to know where he had been taken. She needed to go looking for him.

But I knew I couldn't leave you. Not like this at least.

So she stood there with you for a while longer, holding you and reassuring you while trying to do the same for herself.

A few minutes later, you were stable enough to regulate your emotions.

"Thank you."

Vi had barely been able to hear you. Your hoarse, cracked voice had barely come out in a tiny whisper. Her heart couldn't help but squeeze.

"You're welcome honey."

But her heart squeezed even tighter when she realized she needed to ask you that question. And she needed to ask it now.

"Sunshine" Violet whispered against you. You let out a small murmur to make it clear to her that you heard her "Where did they take him?"

Your heart stopped for a moment. And you couldn't help but want to cry again.

"Vi..."

"Please."

Her voice, just as broken as yours, begged you as you pulled her body apart so you could see her face. A silent plea etched in her gaze.

"I can't lose you too" hot tears pooled in the corners of your eyes, threatening to slide down your cheeks again.

"I can't afford to lose him too" she sobbed as she held your hand tightly "I can't lose anyone else".

The worst thing is that you understood her. That's why you told her where you had heard they were taking Vander.

How much you regretted it now.

You tried to go with her, you really did. But she made you promise to stay in the store. I couldn't let you go with her, not when you were so unstable. Not when she was so afraid something would happen to you.

"I can't lose you both" She had whispered that afternoon in a broken voice as she held you against her "I can't lose you."

So you made a promise.

You promised to distance yourself from Vander's rescue. You promised to take care of Powder if anything happened.

But Vi assured you that nothing would happen, that they would come back with Vander. That she would come back to you.

What a big lie.

So you didn't say goodbye. Just see you soon.

You often think about it.

You saw her leave in a hurry. Not before giving you a hug and leaving you in Ekko's care. Your little brother stood for a moment by the door, watching your gaze lost in the blood-covered glass. He slowly approached you and plopped down next to you on the floor, resting his head on your stomach, trying to hug you despite his small musculature. You put an arm around him, while your other hand gently caressed his head.

"We're going to be fine Ekko."

And they were, eventually.

You think that's one of the only promises you were able to keep back then.

After Vi left, you and Ekko stayed in that room for a while, side by side until you fell asleep. Until you heard the explosion, waking you both up. You remember running outside the tent and seeing blue smoke in the sky. An alarm went off in your head. Violet.

That was the first promise you broke.

You hesitated, you really tried to stay in the tent with Ekko. But your concern for your friends was greater. You made sure your brother stayed in there before you left.

When you arrived the flames had already been extinguished and the blood on the floor was diluted with rainwater. You carefully entered the building, trying not to step on anything that would cause a collapse. You searched all that remained of what was once the warehouse. You waited for a scream, a sob, something to tell you they were here and needed help. It never came. But you still stayed.

But they say that the curiosity killed the cat.

It was when you were about to give up that you found them. Or at least what was left of them.

You found only fragments of their bodies charred by fire. And you did manage to make out the head of Powder's toy monkey. And that told you everything you needed to know.

You returned to the tent, Ekko waiting for you at the entrance. You didn't need to tell him anything, your expression revealed everything he needed to know.

They were dead.

Then you broke your second promise.

You tried to carry on with Ekko for a few years, working for Babette for half the week (which Ekko didn't like very much), but soon after you quit your part-time job to devote yourself entirely to the project you had created with your brother after you both found a big tree in one of the corners of the undercity. The firelights.

But some time before you retired from your job you found out about it. One of your customers told you about it after you completed your work (some people sometimes got very talkative).

Powder was alive, and she called herself Jinx now.

It took everything you had not to cry like a baby in front of your client. How did you not find out sooner? You could have take care of her all this time, you could have been there for her after her siblings died.

But then your client blurted out one more piece of information. Powder Jinx worked for Silco.

That bastard.

That same day, after your workday, you returned to the room (if you could call it that) that you shared with Ekko in the tree and told him everything. You both agreed that you should go and look for her.

Maybe she would be angry, but the least you could do was to try. So they did.

When they found her she was alone on the roof of The Last Drop. Let's just say things were getting worse by the minute.

"Sunny?" her voice, broken and frightened as her eyes shifted from Ekko to you in panic "What are you doing here?"

You tried to approach her, but stopped when she took a step backwards.

"Pow, I swear we didn't know, we thought you were-"

"Dead?" she finished coolly. You nodded carefully, looking into her eyes. "And now that you found me what?"

It was then that Ekko decided to enter the conversation "Powder us-" For a split second something changed in her eyes, as if she wasn't there.

"Shut up" She blurted out, not looking at either of them.

"What?" Ekko turned to look at you, concerned.

"I'm not talking to you, asshole."

"Powder, we just want to..." But she didn't let you finish.

"Don't call me that" she shouted, this time looking back at you "You and Vi are the same trash, always tricking me so you can tell me what to do. You don't care about me at all."

Ekko took a step forward, standing next to you as he raised his hands, trying to calm his once friend "That's not true, Powder. We really-"

"I SAID DON'T CALL ME THAT" She shouted loudly, this time pointing her gun at your brother's head "You have no right, I don't need to be saved."

They should have understood at that moment. But their hearts wouldn't let them. And that almost cost them their lives.

Slowly you tried to put Ekko behind you, making at your movement Jinx now pointed at your head.

"Surely you and Vi planned it" She blurted out with her voice brimming with anger "Surely you both planned a way to leave and leave me to my fate" your heart ached at those words. What had happened that day to make Powder react like that? For her to jump to such conclusions? Violet loved her more than anything in the world. It would never occur to her to leave her alone.

"No..." You heard the safety on the gun being removed, testing you "We would never do that. She loved you so much. I love you."

But you were both crying "You're a liar."

And then she released the shot.

~🦋~

That's the story of how you broke your second promise.

If the world wasn't screwed up with addictions you'd probably have a cigarette to celebrate everything you've endured to get here.

If it wasn't for Ekko's quick reaction you'd probably be dead. Instead you have a scar on your left cheek and a piece of your ear missing. But that's a thousand times better than being buried underground.

The worst thing (according to your brother) is that you forgive her for it.

And you'd go through the same thing a thousand times over just to talk some sense into her.

But you've done the math. Everyone has. There's no solution. Powder is gone, only Jinx is left. So that would never work.

Why she can't let her go?

Why she can't let anything go?

Because it hurt when you thought she was dead.

But it worse to know that she's alive and nothing will ever be the same again.

[june-pop]

The Aftermath

Summary: In which you left the backlash get to you after revealing your relationship with Ni-ki to the public.

Idol!Riki x Non-Idol!Reader

Warnings: angst, starvation

Broski’s ngl this was kind of rushed.

How did this happen? How did it all so quickly go downhill?

Your thoughts were all over the place as you watch all the threats and horrible comments fill your DMs. Tears well up in your eyes as you read through them.

“There’s no way Riki would go out with someone like you”

“Honestly he probably just pity’s her. I mean she looks like a pig”

“Honestly how disappointing”

This was the aftermath of you and Riki officially revealing your relationship to the public. You thought you had mentally prepared yourself for the backlash, but it seems you thought wrong.

It’s not like there were no supporters. You both had received lots of love and support. However, when looking at a blank white wall with that one singular black dot, you would notice the imperfection of the black dot first right? That how it is now. Despite all the support you can’t help but mind the toxicity being thrown your way.

You find yourself getting up from the comfort of your bed and looking the mirror. Lifting up your shirt and taking note of your bloated stomach from your lunch you just had. You can’t help but list off all your own imperfections on your body.

“Maybe it’d be better to skip dinner today..”

The next morning Riki rushes to get ready and head to your house as he wanted to hang out with you. Knocking on your door, you answer it. “Riki! You came early” you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders bringing him in for a hug. He reciprocates the gesture, kissing your forehead before walking inside. “Well I missed you, and also wanted to see how you were doing after revealing everything to the world.” He doesn’t miss the way you smile falters for a split second.

You put your hands behind your back and start fidgeting with them. “Oh well I’m fine, honestly.” You look down. “Are you sure? You know you can talk to me.” He steps closer to you but you bring your face back up with a huge smile as if nothing’s wrong. “Yeah! Of course I’m fine. Anyway what did you want to do? We have the whole morning to ourselves before you have practice. Let’s not waste it by standing here!” You state successfully changing the subject.

“Well I was hoping we could go out for breakfast together. You know let me treat you this morning.” Riki says as he comes up behind you. The thought of going out in public with him right now sends shivers down your spine. Not only that, but going out to eat. If anyone spots you two the comments would probably get worse.

“Uh, no thanks I’m not really feeling like it right now, plus I already had a smoothie before you came.” You quickly said as you gestured towards your empty cup on the counter. Riki’s face dropped in confusion. “What? Only a smoothie” he couldn’t believe you. “Oh Come on, you and I both know I don’t have much of an appetite on the morning anyway. How about instead we go painting. It’s been a while since we’ve done that together.” You reply to him with a smile and walk away. “I’m gonna go change real quick!”. Leaving the boy stunned and even more confused. While it’s true you don’t have much of an appetite in the morning normally you’d never decline an offer like that so quickly. What’s going on?

Unfortunately it kept going on like that for a couple of days. You trying to skip meals to be someone worthy of his love. And him trying to figure out why you’re avoiding him taking you out. That is until one day.

Riki wanted to surprise you since he got off practice early. So he came to your home with roses in hand and used the spare key you gave him to come him. At first he didn’t see or hear you. As he walked around he found your bathroom door open. He could see your figure standing in front of the mirror. Before he could come up to you, in the mirror he saw you were..crying?

“God what am I doing wrong?!” You yelled out. He noticed you were looking down at something. Moving a bit closer he saw you were on top of a scale. Weighing yourself. But why? Was all the blonde boy could think of.

You stepped off the scale and turned to the mirror slightly lifting you shirt to show your stomach. “Why can’t you just go away. How can you expect to keep him when you look like this.” You yell at yourself. Seeing you like this broke his heart. Why are you doing this to yourself? How could you say all these bad things when he sees you perfect the way you are?

He’s had enough of hearing your sobs and walks toward you. You don’t notice him until you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Causing you to flinch harshly, almost elbowing him in the gut before making eye contact with him on the mirror. “Riki!” You stare in disbelief and quickly wipe your tears, doing a poor job at it by the way. “Whe- why are you here? Don’t you have practice?” You question as you turn around in his arms facing him but not quite looking at him.

“You should’ve told me you were coming, I would’ve made myself more presentabl-“ “Y/N.” He cut you off. Your body stiffened from his tone. Scared at what he might say next. He stared at your shaking body. Tears stained on your face. His own eyes couldn’t help but tear up seeing the love of his life in such a state. “How long?”

Oh… That question. The one you wish you didn’t have to answer. “Riki I-“

“How long? Please, just tell me”

The crack in his voice caused you to look up at him, and see the way so many emotions swirl in his eyes. Sadness, anger, but most importantly. Concerned. Who wouldn’t be. You look down and sigh. “Since we opened up about our relationship”. You felt his grip on you tighten as he pulls you in for a big, tight hug. You can’t help but let more tears go as your body starts shaking again.

“Why didn’t you say anything? You know you can talk to me.” He stammered out. This was his fault. He thought. He should’ve payed more attention. He should’ve been there for you, to comfort you. “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

Now you were confused. “This isn’t your fault Riki. I just really wanted to be someone who you looked good with.” “What are you talking about?” He pulled back. “You look amazing just the way you are. I fell in love with you for so many reasons one of them being because I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

You stared up at him in awe from his confession. “B-but the fans, they-“ “is that what this is about. Because of toxic fans.” He grabbed your arms and turned you around towards the mirror. “You know what I see right now. I see my talented, beautiful girlfriend in the mirror. Despite her tears and messy hair I still can’t help but love her because she’s that mesmerizing.” He Remarked. You face heats up, “Riki stop-“ you try to say before you get cut off Again. “No. You need to hear this”

“Y/N, I love you. No one else gets to decide that for me. Not the fans, not the company, not even you. I decide that because it’s my life, my decision. I saw you and I’ve only wanted to get to know you. To talk to you. To hold you. To love you. And that’s never going to change.”

At this point you’re both crying in each others arms. “Please never forget that. Fuck everyone else, they’re all jealous assholes who have nothing better to do.” Riki snapped out. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle from his statement.

Riki’s heart fluttered from hearing that. “There she is. I missed that smile. The genuine one. The one that stole my heart in the first place.” He smiled smiled and turned you back around towards him. “Now please, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, and talk to me when you need someone.”

You nod your head and look into his eyes. “I promise.” He lets a sigh and brings you into a big hug.

How could you be so blind. You were so focused on other people’s opinions on your relationship you forgot to take notice of the most important one. “I love you” you whispered. At first you thought you said it too quietly for him to notice until his arms tightened around him you. “I love you more.”

[altschmerzes]

I want to hear about your fics. Tell me about your wips. What are you working on now. What's got you really excited?

OOOOOOOO YOU HAVE UNLEASHED ME, MY FRIEND...

the thing about me that i'm sure you will have noticed by now if you've spent more than five minutes on my blog or in my general company is that i am always working on five hundred projects at once. this is not... like, great, so to speak for my ability to consistently finish one thing but i don't know how much steam i'd be able to maintain if i wasn't constantly playing hopscotch with projects so like. win some lose some?

anyways. i have five hundred projects always. right now i would say the ones i am working on with the greatest degree of dedication/effort, in terms of Major Projects at least and not just like. oneshots here and there are wriggle up on dry land (baby jamie ted lasso fic), history rhymes (ted lasso fic centred on sexual trauma), loneliness into loneliness (the qpr two aces fic and its associated concepts), and the newest of the bunch that i don't think i've really talked about, which is titled 'drive the wedge' (from the tmg song 'heel turn 2'). here is a needlessly thorough explanation of THAT fic. the short version is, in the excellent words of my friend @cartwrong, "Thought River had a bad time in s4? Its about to get to worse."

drive the wedge is a slow horses fic wherein at the end of 4x05, patrice abducts river at gunpoint and when he does so he doesn't drive him to that cafe to meet with frank. instead, patrice takes river to a remote, isolated manor where frank is waiting for them.

it goes downhill from there.

the horses do not see or hear from river again for almost five months. during that time, frank does his level best to break river and rebuild him into a soldier, into a weapon worth using. this... doesn't really work. in fact, the process ends up breaking not river, but patrice, who watches his father torture the only brother he has left until he can't take watching it anymore.

meanwhile, slough house is on overdrive trying to find a missing colleague who the park is all to quick to deem missing (presumed dead) and rubber-stamp his file as such before tucking it away in a dusty corner. louisa almost quits. (she tries to quit. the only reason that she doesn't is because lamb shows up to ask her back, because she's at least almost competent and if they want any hope of getting river back they're going to need her. he also promises that he won't make her do fuck-all that isn't to do with finding river. she agrees to return on these conditions. catherine comes back too, of her own accord, because she can't tolerate the idea of being outside of the loop on this one. she has to be there.)

louisa is generally having a bad fucking time. she is dealing with grief and terror over the maybe-loss of her best friend, and she is also trying to find him, not to mention dealing with his mother. she ends up spending a lot of time working late with lamb, and filling out that dynamic is one of my favourite things in planning this thing out. they're astonishingly similar sometimes, and they inadvertently keep each other afloat during the long, difficult months river spends in captivity. (lamb is not handling this well either. he will not be acknowledging this. he WILL be yelling at the park for trying to legally declare river dead.)

ultimately, everything comes to a head when louisa follows a lead that she knows better than to follow, and comes to in a room in a manor she's never been to before. she is intended to be the final blow that breaks river's resolve, except that it doesn't quite end up shaking out that way, and they're both found alive, if not exactly well.

the following months are hard, too, in their own way, as everyone tries to re-find their footing again. there's endless hours of debriefing from the park, who aren't totally convinced river didn't go dark-side during his captivity. there's what to tell david, whose condition has deteriorated sharply thanks to the sudden and traumatic loss of his grandson. there's the severe physical and emotional trauma river is carrying and trying to recover from. there's louisa's own profound trauma from the whole ordeal - from his disappearance and his absence and everything she had to deal with during that to her own abduction and near-death. lamb tries, with varying levels of success, to be a human being, because they need him to be and because catherine told him in no uncertain terms that this time he has no choice. we all know i'm a rescue and recovery bitch, this is the part i am All About.

anyways. it's a mess, it's so much fun, there's so much going on here. im having a blast. :)

[hiramaris]

Kiss It Off Me

CHAPTER 4

Chapter Summary:

“Thank you.” She couldn’t stop smiling, not if she can’t help it. “It’s really sweet of you to do all this.” “No problem. I like it when you smile. Happiness looks good in you.”

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: Swearing, mentions of neglect

Y/n, I’m not really good at writing a note or apologizing in general. I just… feel bad about how our introduction to one another went downhill which I know is my fault. I know it's kind of rude, too to take someone's photo without their consent so, here you go. It's not the best photo but it's not, like, the worse either. And you look like you're in one with nature so the photographer in me couldn't help but to take the shot.  Anyway, if you have time away from your farm, you can drop by at 2 Willow Lane in the morning or whatever so I can make it up to you somehow. It’s cool if you don’t want to if you’re, like, really mad still.   P.S I don’t wake up until 8. Need my beauty sleep! - Haley <3

Spring 10

"Earlier, I was getting my mail."

Haley's chewing came to a halt as George began to speak. How odd. George wasn’t one to talk during meals. She knew this because there was never a time she missed mandatory weekly meals with the Mullners.

Nonetheless, she leaned a bit closer to hear him.

"I couldn't because of my...” he trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. “Anyway, Pam's kid tried to help me, and I ended up shouting at her." "My goodness, George!” Gran Evelyn gasped softly, placing a hand over her heart. “Why did you do that to poor Penny?" "I— she pushed my wheelchair and touched my mail.” He averted his gaze, looking everywhere but at the three pairs of eyes focused on him. If Haley didn’t know him any better, he almost looked embarrassed rather than angry. “I... I didn't like it when people act like I'm so nimble." Granny shook her head in sympathy. "Still, honey... She's just trying to help." "I know, I know," George grumbled, stabbing his fork into a fried mushroom. "The new farmer even pointed it out to me." He looked up, his eyes boring into his wife. "I apologized anyway. It was just a bad day, and I happened to project my anger onto her."

At the mention of the new farmer, Haley perked up. Not to sound obsessed or anything or like she has been counting at all, but it had been almost two days since she had caught a whiff of that familiar scent of dirt and freshly cut grass that you seemed to radiate even from a mile away. If Emily’s going to twist her arm behind her back, then maybe she’ll be able to get Haley to admit that she’s the one doing the avoiding right now.

The fact that it was Haley herself who wrote a note for you to come by to make up for her rude behavior, and then when you did drop by immediately a day after, Haley would make sure she had plenty of excuses to not meet you at the door and have Emily answer on her behalf. It’s been days and she’s running out of reasons to tell Emily why she couldn’t meet her visitor, and it wouldn’t take a genius to know who’s avoiding whom.

How could she not though?

How can someone recover from a situation like that which was probably scraped off from a romantic script of a movie because it’s too predictable, and cringe?

How can you look at someone ever again knowing you had seen that face in mere inches, breath tingling the cheeks and then act like you weren’t fazed by it all?

Most importantly, how do you act after that? Apparently, it didn’t seem like a problem for you as you were so busy hustling and bustling in and out of the farm and into the town. And if you weren't busy doing your chores, then you were always dragged down by Sam’s little brother to their little class arrangement with Penny and often found you hanging out with them by the big tree just outside Haley’s home which is why she knows not because she’s actively searching for you, duh.

Okay, maybe you did try to approach her, and Haley's acting like the two of you had a one-night stand by avoiding you like the plague. Could you blame her, though?

If it wasn't embarrassing enough, she even accused you of trying to buy her friendship with the daily gifts you gave her, accompanied by that annoyingly cheerful smile that seemed permanently sculpted on your face.

What am I even supposed to think in that situation? Even Alex, her best friend for years, wasn’t consistent with giving her gifts. The doofus often forgets special occasions, but that's a separate issue altogether.

To her, you’re really just an enigma.

And she can’t help but be drawn to the mysterious, goody-two-shoes persona you’re sporting.

She shook her head when she realized she’d been zoning out longer than she warranted. Evelyn is still giving George a piece of her mind for what he did. Haley’s so sure he’s regretting his decision by now opening this topic to his wife.

However, it was clear to Haley who was in the wrong here.

"If I may put in my two cents...?" she interjected, unable to hold back.

Alex raised a curious brow at her but remained silent. Granny, on the other hand, nodded encouragingly. "Go ahead, deary."

"I think George's reaction was valid," Haley began slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Penny touched your wheelchair and mail without consent, regardless of her good intentions, George." And as an afterthought, she added, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice, "And the new farmer agreed with her? She should have known better."

"Look at you, Hay. Queen of consent!" Alex teased, a smirk playing on his lips. "I love a girl who knows her boundaries."

Of course, the doofus would choose this time to speak.

"Haha," she rolled her eyes at a smirking Alex. He sure knows what buttons to push. "Asking consent is a bare minimum, you goof. You should practice it more often." "Hey!" "Hng," George grumbled inaudibly. "Little Miss Farmer did say that."

"Say what, dear?" "That Pam's kid should have asked me first.” George clarified. “But I should have handled it a little better, too. Can't say that she's wrong."

Despite his use of tone, he didn’t sound too upset. More like he’s in between of unable to believe that someone has the courage to stand up to him and tell him he’s wrong and still respect him as an elder, or being mad at this new farmer for sticking up her nose somewhere it doesn’t belong.

Either way, a George that isn’t grumpy is a win-win. So, they all will probably take it as it is.

"I'm glad you thought so too, dear." See? Even Granny thinks so, too. It’s better to have a plate full of her infamous cookies (and leek if you’re George) than to have a grumpy George on your plate. "Here, have some sauté leek."

George's face brightens up considerably. "I thought we don't have anymore from the pantry?"

"Miss Y/n dropped some earlier. Said to help cook your favorite dish. Isn’t she a sweetheart?”

"Hmm... I guess she's really something else then."

"I told you so, dear."

"Agree!" Alex raises a thumbs up. "She even knows how to play grid ball! She's new yet she's already better than the men here combined."

"That's lovely, deary. I hope she also influences you to read those books I gave you. I heard she's infatuated with books as Miss Penny does." "Yes, granny," Alex grumbled against his spoon.

Spring 12

She didn’t expect to see you so soon.

It’s not like she wants to avoid you forever. Ugh.

Why is this so difficult?

Her whole Spring routine is now in shambles because of you and your inability to dress nice, spreading your nasty farmer smell and being all happy smiles around children, elders, and women like some sort of Casanova and it’s infuriating!

“Hay?” Emily’s voice calling out from the kitchen stops her from her silent stewing. Haley was about to get up from her seat when Emily's voice continued, "did you clean the cushions like I told you yesterday?"

Her expression immediately turned sour, “I just cleaned them last week!”

The clanging from the kitchen stops, and the thudding of footsteps came closer. In an instant, Emily was standing in front of her with her spatula in hand.

“Yes, that’s last week. What about this week then?”

Haley rose to her feet, indignant. No freaking way she’s cleaning them again. “I always clean under the cushions and you damn well know it!" She jutted a perfectly manicured finger in Emily's direction. "It's YOUR turn this week!"

Emily scoffed at that. “You’re being childish, Haley. I do the vast majority of work in this house, and you know it.”

Haley rolled her eyes, feeling frustrated that Emily always played the responsible one. Just because she had a job outside the house, she acted like she was the only one doing anything. Haley does, too! She cooks, washes the dishes, does her own laundry, and cleans the house! But of course, Emily isn’t around enough to see all that because she has work and she’s busy thinking Haley’s lazy ass is just lounging in the house doing nothing all day!

“But that’s not the point!” Haley crossed her arms, a flash of irritation on her face. She wasn't going to let Emily get away with this. “We agreed to have schedules specifically for this and you’re not following it!”

Emily's eyes flickered with frustration. “Would it kill you to do them now? I had a rough shift yesterday.”

"You can't just pass off your responsibilities onto me every time you had a tough day at work. We made a schedule for a reason."

"I know, I know. But I just need a break today." Emily sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping.

The truth sets out then. She had a rough night and she passes the job onto Haley and made her feel guilty for it. Never mind that they agreed to have alternate schedules to do this specific job to avoid arguments yet here they are.

“Absolutely no—”

“Hello?”

Of fucking course, the farmer chooses that time to knock on their door.

Emily must have noticed the alarmed look written clearly on her face, making her smirk.

Oh, boy.

“Come in, Y/n/n! Haley’s up already.”

“Good mor—” You did a double take seeing a clearly upset Haley and an equally pissed Emily. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes,” Haley admitted bluntly, crossing her arms. A flash of recognition passed her eyes when she thought of an idea. A good one that’s for sure. “Since you’re a hard worker and all, I bet you’ll understand my point of view here.”

“Haley,” Emily warned. Haley ignores her, deciding to shift her attention to the newcomer.

You tilt your head in confusion. “What’s going on?”

Emily sighs in exasperation, before offering you a kind smile. “I’m really sorry to involve you in this, Y/n/n. Haley,” she shot her a dirty look, “is complaining because I asked her to clean the cushions—”

“— which you should be doing because it’s your schedule, not mine yet you’re shifting the blame to me.” Haley finishes for her. She turns to you, further proving her point. “It’s important to mention that I already cleaned them last week.”

“Haley…”

“Shut it, Em. I want to hear what she has to say. What’s the verdict?”

Haley may seem cool outside but she’s actually hoping for you to side her on this one. She knew she was on the right side. If you were to side with Emily, then that’s like a double edge of crap in some way and Haley refuses to bleed in front of you two.

You were silent for a good second, chewing your lips, deep in thought. Your eyes flicked back and forth between the sisters.

“Haley,” you prompted, voice slow and measured. Haley already knew at this point whom you sided with. “Why not have this be your one weekly job?”

Not that it’s important but it stings.

Haley turns to retreat to her room, but you must have noticed the look of utter disappointment on her face. You grabbed Haley's hand in panic, halting her in her tracks. The blonde couldn't help but freeze at the sudden touch. "W-wait. I’m not siding on anyone," You quickly clarified, hoping to diffuse the tension.

Haley raised a skeptical eyebrow, not entirely convinced. "Sure," she replied flatly.

“I just thought it would be the best course of action, so you don’t have to argue over it again. If you took this job, Emily won’t bother you again with cleaning the bathroom every two days. Isn’t that right, Em?”

“Yeah!” Emily agrees immediately. “Wait, what?”

Haley turns and finds you smiling down at her, clearly amused at Emily’s reaction. “doesn’t that sound more appealing?”

It does. She hates cleaning the bathroom with great passion, more so than cleaning under the cushions. If this also means it could possibly reduce Emily’s daily nagging, then your idea doesn’t seem the worst plan ever.

“Alright, you win.” Haley tried so hard to keep a straight face when she saw that stupid smile emerging again. “I guess this can be my job every week. Then there won’t be any reason to argue over it.”

Emily eyes her a bit at her sudden compliance with everything before turning back to you with an almost appreciative look. “Thanks, Y/n/n. That was a great solution.”

“Heh,” you must have noticed Haley’s eyes burning at your conjoined hands. With a timid chuckle, you retreated your hand back as you scratched your nape almost shyly. “It’s no problem, really.”

“Why don’t you stay for breakfast?” Emily suggested. “I’m almost finished cooking anyway.”

“It’s okay, thanks! But I don’t really want to impose.”

“Nonsense! I’m sure my sister won’t mind you joining us. Right, Hay?” Emily raises an equally blue eyebrow at her sister, who seemed to be in a daze.

“Your hands are rough and warm.”

“Huh?”

Your confusion snapped her out of her trance. She meets your eyes for a brief moment before glancing away. “I mean— what I meant to say was,” she sputtered pathetically. “Yeah, you can join us for breakfast.” She forces out a smile, hoping Yoba will answer her prayer one more time.

“Good!” Emily beamed. “Then I’ll get on with it. Haley, please keep our guest occupied.”

“You sure?” You asked one more time, probably noticing the grimace obviously etched on her face.

“Of course.”

“Hmm. Okay, then how about we clean these cushions now? So, you won’t have to clean them later?”

“Eh? It’s fine. I can do that later.”

“I insist. Two pairs of hands are better than one, y’know?”

“Ugh. Of course, you’ll say some dorky crap like that. Yoba, fine you can help.”

You can only laugh at her antics before moving to lift the couch.

Spring 14

She used to like her birthdays.

At least that’s what she likes to think.

What she allows herself to think.

And what she likes others to think.

It’s easier to blend into the stereotypes rather than oppose them and still get judged after.

Haley’s been called names already, all too many to even mention.

Spoiled.

Arrogant.

Self-centered and conceited.

If they are harsh enough, sometimes they’ll call her a dumb bitch.

As harsh as they are, Haley learned over the years to desensitize herself to them. Why allow yourself to be hurt by the same thing over and over again?

Her parents raised her and Emily in this big house back in Zuzu City. It was big, enormous even but empty. Can you call it home when no one cares enough to stick around? When all there ever was were big parties, and holidays spent with strangers she barely talked to, raised like the perfect little girl that she is, given with just as empty praises and gifts just as thoughtless.

Haley is practically the epitome of class and luxury. The living embodiment of perfection. Perfect face, perfect body, and oh-so-perfect stats. She’s smart (street smart or preferably photography smart if there’s one or whatever), rich and famous. Most importantly, she’s popular and has a reputation to protect.

Everything that Emily probably isn’t. Yet she’s the one happier.

She’s the one who moved on while Haley remains still where their parents left them.

How could they be gone though if, in the first place, they were never present? Where were they when Haley won her first photography contest? Did they know the photo was Emily sewing her first design? Haley doesn’t think so.

They are not abusive though. In terms of needs, they never wasted seconds to tend them in the most grandiose and luxurious ways as possible— the newest phone, latest camera, expensive make-up, and all available seasonal designer clothes. Good but not great either. Haley can say they are just plainly emotionally unavailable. They weren’t ready at all to be parents. They were too young when they had Emily.

Early twenties were not even that young, but it was a stage of exploring the world and what it could still possibly offer them. They can’t have all that with children in tow. So, when the opportunity arises, they took it without hesitations. After all, both their children are fully capable on their own.

But Haley needed someone. She needed a father. She needed her mother. Hell, she needed her sister. She needed someone warm, a nicer, wiser person. Someone to cry to, to talk to, to laugh to.

She calls out but the house is empty.

So, tell me. How can I be childish when I’m forced to grow up because everyone already is?

Haley hated them with passion. The crumpled piece of letter in her hand was obvious enough to what extent she does.

Another birthday card.

No hugs and kisses.

No cake.

No parents.

Some birthday this is.

She lets out a dry chuckle. It seems Emily had forgotten about her day. She had taken off at dawn's first light without even a second thought. While Alex? She doesn’t expect him to remember. At least not until later than noon. The idiot, really.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Haley didn’t have to look up to see who it was, but she did anyway. There you are with your blinding smile again. Beads of sweat can be seen forming on the side of your forehead just below a small cut that seemed to be healing well already. Your clothes are lightly butchered, a sign you were up and about on your farm yet the sight of you lifted her spirit a little. 

“Done with your chores?” she asked as you sat down next to her. Weirdly enough, the smell of dirt doesn't seem sore on the nose anymore, and Haley starts to wonder why.

It was a pleasantly warm Sunday. Usually, the kids will be playing here and Haley's glad she get to enjoy a quiet time in the park even for a little time.

You hummed. “Woke up extra early to finish them all.”

“Why? You have plans?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Naw, had to run some errands so I can give you this,” You turned to your rucksack that Haley failed to notice once again. It was bulging. Haley could only catch sight of the color brown before you successfully hid it behind your back. “Give me your hands.”

Haley narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to prank me, are you?”

“What? No, of course not!”

“Is it a bug? You know I hate them.”

“Just do it, Hay.”

Surprised at the sudden usage of the nickname, Haley finally complied. She desperately hopes the sunlight would hide the tinge of redness starting to form on her cheeks.

Carefully, you placed a coconut on her open palms. It was plump and perfectly shaped as if it had been carefully chosen just for her. It was even wrapped poorly with a red ribbon that is a bit wrinkly and crinkled on the edges which must be because of how it was forcefully shoved in her bag. But Haley didn't find it in herself to mind. Not when you're looking at her like that as you hold your gift.

“Happy birthday, Haley,” you greeted warmly.

Haley blinked, her eyes started to water, her insides warming up in all ways possible. But she didn’t dare cry.

"I... I love coconuts." Haley looked up. Her own lips betrayed her as they curled up in the widest grin she ever had. “How did you know?”

“Well...” You scratched the back of your head, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Remember when you treated my cut the other day? You made me choose between a sunflower band-aid or a coconut one. So, I kinda assumed they were your favorites.”

“B-but how? You can’t possibly summon a coconut tree at will, or even had the time to go to Calico desert.”

You laughed at that. “It was pure luck, Hay. I just talked to the traveling merchant the other day and she said she had a couple of ones in stock. But she warned me I had to buy one early today or else she’ll run out just before noon.”

“Thank you.” She couldn’t stop smiling, not if she can’t help it. “It’s really sweet of you to do all this.”

“No problem. I like it when you smile. Happiness looks good in you.”

Happiness looks good on you, too.

****

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A/n: I hoped I did Haley's heart event justice because she deserved soooo much better. I refuse to believe her mean girl façade is because she's plain mean. My girl is better than that.

Anyway, sorry for the super late update. You know, the usual, due to school stuff and it just so happens senior year is the busiest year of all. Had to make sure I'm complying with all the needed requirements so I can graduate this year.

Thank you, guys, for your patience. Love y'all but I love my wife more <3

[wrenaspun]

Wrenny!!! Could you please use your golden typewriter to write a bonus scene for selkieverse? This detail always stuck in my head: "He had been so useless at first, a lump on the couch, leg broken, knowing nothing."

I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort so I would love to know how he broke his leg and what Damen did after 🥹🦭

ILY!!

Combining these two similar-ish prompts!! Apologies @sea-cove I didn't manage to reveal how the broken leg happened, but I hope the hurt/comfort vibes satisfy you... -

If Laurent had been thinking clearly, he would never have tried to leave the house. His leg had healed sufficiently — and, perhaps more important, been splinted and wrapped by competent enough hands — that he could navigate his immediate surroundings on crutches, the friendly flat indoor surfaces, the vibrant and well-trodden garden. The steep, rocky downhill path to the beach was obviously quite a different prospect.

Laurent watched forlornly as his right crutch rolled that final stretch of distance which took it out of his sight. Without the distraction of laborious motion, his leg was making its soreness known. The pain was all the worse for being entirely his own fault. After weeks of roaming the house, he’d thought, if he could just get down to that beach — he’d thought, if he could just make his way to where the path started to slope downward in earnest, surely the rest of the way would be manageable. The gravity would assist him, he’d thought. How hard could it be? He wanted to go back to the beach. He wanted to get away from Damen’s sweet brown eyes and ridiculously muscled body and the careful way he treated Laurent. He wanted his skin, and the simplicity of the water, and the human world existing chiefly as a single day’s diversion, careful visits to the larger cities where nobody cared what anyone else was doing. He wanted his skin back. He didn’t even know if it was still where he’d left it.

Sitting here with the cool wind slicing through his thin human skin, staring down the great yawning length of hillside which lay between himself and the beach, he knew that it had been a ridiculous idea, a fantasy born of equal parts overconfidence and cabin fever. He might not be cooped up in the traditional sense — certainly he could step outside and see the wide horizon all around him — but it remained true that his movement was severely constrained.

Laurent sat back against the white rock and indulged in a long sigh. He’d gotten far enough from the house that the trip back would be highly inconvenient on a single crutch. His leg was very sore, throbbing almost. He felt stupid. And he was uncomfortably aware that the rock behind and below him was bleeding the warmth from his body.

And then, as though to make a bad situation into the worst it could possibly be — “Laurent!”

Damen’s voice was close by and concerned. Laurent sat up straight and had to scramble to avoid losing his other crutch to the implacable tide of gravity. He was still stinging with embarrassment when he said, “You said you’d be in the lighthouse all day,” and his voice came out prickly and hostile.

“It’s lunchtime,” said Damen. “I thought — Laurent.” In the tone of a man who has just remembered that he was not the one who was meant to be giving explanations. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“Oh,” said Laurent, unable to soften his tone, “nothing at all —” but Damen knelt beside him and the words cut off.

“May I?” he asked. Laurent nodded mutely. Damen checked the bandaging on Laurent’s leg, and his hands were very wide, very capable. “Does it hurt?”

“Not —” Laurent cleared his throat. “Not sharply.”

Damen nodded, sat back on his heels. Laurent’s mouth said, without his consent,”I wanted to go down to the beach.”

Another nod. “It’s no wonder,” said Damen. “You’ve been cooped up.”

Somehow his simple understanding just made the prickliness and hostility within Laurent surge again. “Well, it was clearly a stupid idea,” he said.

“Next time maybe you could talk to me about it first,” Damen agreed easily. Laurent glared at him, at that wretchedly dimpled smile. Damen continued easily, “If you don’t mind being carried, we could go down now.”

Laurent stared. Damen began to look awkward. “I don’t see a way it could be done without carrying,” he said. “Even if we radioed for a chair —” Laurent had vetoed the wheelchair, and the explanations it would require to some faceless bureaucrat on the mainland, with extreme prejudice — “the path’s rough enough that I don’t know if it would work.”

“So your solution is to carry me down,” said Laurent, flatly.

“Yes?”

Laurent ignored the traitorous thumping of his heart. He thought, I am stuck on an island with a madman. Then he said, “Let’s go, then.”

He had to close his eyes to get away from that dimpled smile. With the utmost care, Damen leaned in, gathered him up, and then — stood, as though Laurent weighed nothing at all.

Laurent had made a mistake. He knew it instantly. From this position, every breath he took was saturated with Damen’s scent, deep and rich. Damen’s arms were warm. Far too warm — it couldn’t possibly be healthy. Laurent could feel the distinct line of them across his back and under his thighs, and every passing moment only made the sensation more pronounced, like he was being marked somehow, branded. Like his body wanted to absorb the memory of this touch and lock it permanently into his body.

“Are you cold?” asked Damen.

“No,” Laurent snapped. And then, “I thought you had work to do — I thought it was lunchtime.”

“The work can wait a bit,” said Damen. “And so can lunch. Unless you want me to turn around now.”

For reasons unknown to himself, Laurent snapped, “No,” again. He curled his toes, mortified, and felt the low ache which came with the tension of muscle around still-mending bone. Damen just kept walking.

It wasn’t as though Laurent would be able to grab his skin with Damen right there. He could never take such a risk. Even if he thought that Damen wouldn’t try to stop him — the fact of his broken leg made it too risky even to try. He was realising, stupidly, that he didn’t know to what extent the injury would shift form with him; he knew from experience that scratches did, but a broken leg — a still-healing leg — there wasn’t exactly an easy equivalence. He could have gotten all the way down to the beach and shifted form only to discover he couldn’t swim properly. He’d held so tightly to the dream of the ocean that he hadn’t considered its consequences, what would come after.

And still Damen was carrying him down to the beach. Laurent didn’t know what to make of it. He stayed very still in the cradle of Damen’s arms, feeling as though he was being boiled gently from the inside out. He was barely aware of reaching the beach, only blinking back to himself when he was set down on a sun-warmed rock where he could face the sea. It had been a long walk, but Damen wasn’t even breathing hard. He settled himself beside Laurent, not touching, but close enough that Laurent was warmed more by his body than by the sun.

He brought his good leg up and rested his chin on the knee. Behind him, not five steps away, was the rock-shelf where he had hidden his skin. It should have been unbearable, to be this close and unable to reach for it, unable to retrieve it. He should have been burning to get his hands on it. In front of him, the ocean was surging.

There was another force, he thought, more magnetic, more compelling. He slid his gaze sideways and found Damen watching him, eyes warm. Laurent’s cheeks flushed. He was aware of every inch of skin over his body. “It’s a nice day,” he said inanely.

Damen’s dimple appeared. “It’s a nice view,” he said.

Laurent stayed very still, breathing through the rush of his heart. Eventually, he returned his gaze to the sea.