#so don't stand five feet away and talk shit about me

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ i ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: not beta-read. not edited. enjoy reading.

masterlist.

You are not surprised when Max Verstappen won the 2023 Formula One season. Given how he dominated each Grand Prix in the season, except Singapore but we don't talk about Singapore, you kind of expected the results already. This is Max's third time winning the WDC title and that makes you the manager of a three-time WDC title holder now. As someone who worked with the guy the last five years, you are immensely proud of Max. You’ve been working as his manager ever since 2019—you, twenty-three, a fresh graduate of Mechanical Engineering and he, twenty-one, an aspiring world champion but you've known each other since 2018—so you knew better than anyone else, better than Christian Horner even, just how much it took from Max just to reach the place where he is standing right now. Furthermore, Red Bull Racing also won the Constructor’s Championship so everyone in the team cannot be any happier. Celebrations are in order, of course, but you have excused yourself to retire early in the evening instead. Max has asked you why. You replied that you're tired and that's the only truth you can offer him.

You draft your resignation letter whilst everyone at Red Bull is partying in some place else in Abu Dhabi. Good for them honestly. What better way is there to celebrate a victory than with alcohol? Fortunately, there's canned beer on the mini fridge so that's your share of the victory alcohol tonight while you're hunched over your laptop on the couch. Rihanna is playing from your laptop speakers in a Youtube playlist in another Google tab while you work on the letter on a separate Google Docs tab.

Dear ________,

Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from my position as the manager of Red Bull Racing first driver, Max Verstappen, effective seven days from today’s date, November 26, 2023.

I appreciate the opportunities for growth and development you have provided me during the five years I worked for this amazing team. Leaving is not an easy decision for me but in order to further my career, I have to spread my wings and explore. Please let me know if I can help with anything to make my resignation easier for the company staff.

Thank you, Red Bull, for giving me wings and the courage to fly. Now, I believe it is time for me to soar new skies. I will cherish the time I have spent here in Red Bull Racing.

Sincerely,

[First Name] [Last Name].

You read it over and over again, checking for errors in the spelling or the grammatical structure.

“Thank you Red Bull for giving me wings and the courage to fly….” you mutter. What Red Bull gave you was five decades worth of stress. One decade's worth of stress for each year since you were accepted in the team. “Cringy as fuck.”

Your phone abruptly rings and you jump in surprise, dropping your phone and your beer and oh shoot, you almost dropped your laptop, too. You scramble to pick up the canned beer, hissing slightly when you see the liquid form a pool on the tiled floor. Your initial response is to avoid it so you sidestepped and kicked your YSL heels away from the puddle. The heels are previously placed next to your feet neatly but now they're thrown haphazardly on the floor a few meters away. Your eyes quickly search for a towel, or anything you can use to wipe that shit off before it reaches the expensive hotel carpet, but there is no towel in your vicinity and the liquid is moving fast so you take off your Red Bull shirt—haha, you’re resigning anyways—leaving you in only your sleeveless undershirt. You throw it on the floor. Then, you crouch down and hurriedly wipe the beer.

Crisis averted! Beer - 0. You - 1. You pick up the call after, already knowing it's from Max even without reading the caller ID because you have set a separate ringtone for him, using that catchy Super Max sound, “Hello, [Name] here. Anythin’ I could help?”

Daniel’s voice is not something you have expected to hear, not from Max’s phone anyway, but then again, they should be together right now at the afterparty, “Hi [Name], we kind of got ourselves stuck in a situation here.”

Your brows furrow, forehead creasing, “Danny? Somethin’ wrong?”

“It's Max.”

You stiffen before slowly rising to a stand. Your head begins running at a speed of 300 kilometers per hour, the pace of a Formula One car, coming up with different scenarios where Max is in danger and a list of things you can do to get him out of those situations, “What's wrong with Max?”

That's how you found yourself in the middle of the Red Bull afterparty, navigating through the sweaty and drunk Red Bull employees with your eyes actively searching for a tall, broad-shouldered, blond-brown-haired, blue-eyed Dutchman. You find him nearly ten minutes after entering the party, in a corner, on the floor, next to a yellow puddle of disgusting liquid with his head hanging low and the two Alpha Tauri drivers, Daniel and Yuki, standing right beside him. Thank God they did not leave Max.

The fact that they are in a party full of Red Bull employees and none even tried to help Max bothers you greatly. Jesus, what is wrong with these people? You lower yourself in front of him, hand coming up to his nape while the other is on his forearm before gently guiding him away from the vomit pool just in case he accidentally touches on it. If he did, you know you're the one who’s going to clean him up and frankly, you aren't in the mood for dealing with that. Max follow your hands like it's second nature for him to follow your guidance, leaning into the warmth of your palm.

“What happened?” you finally voice the question you've been dying to ask once Max is a good distance away from the pool of vomit. Daniel is the one who answers you, “He asked for you.”

That doesn't answer your question. Thankfully, Yuki decides to be more helpful, “He broke up with Kelly this morning.”

Oh.

He raced while shouldering a broken heart and still won? Poor Max. But also, you are not surprised. Not even a bit. It's very much like him to prioritize the race over his feelings because Max Verstappen only wants one thing in the world and that is to emerge victorious at the sport he loved. To prove to the world that he is top one, to prove to Jos Verstappen that he is top one and that he will go down in history as top one and the world shall remember it even after he leaves the F1 racing scene for the young ones.

“Thanks, Yuki,” you turn to Daniel and nod. “Danny, I’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure you don't need help?”

You shake your head and offer a tight-lipped smile. Dealing with a drunk Max is no biggie. You have worked with the guy for five years already, four as his manager. That's over a hundred podiums and defeats and in each defeat and each podium, alcohol and Max become the best of friends. You’re used to this; cleaning him up, picking him up, tucking him into bed, calling his girlfriend to deal with his drunk ass, and helping him nurse the hangover in the morning with an Advil and a good breakfast.

You roll the sleeves of your champagne-colored button-up to your elbows and in one swift motion, you lift Max in a fireman’s carry. That volunteer work you did at LAFD back when you're still in university paid off in these moments.

It was a comedic sight. A 5’5” woman in heels carrying an almost six foot drunk racer who is at least two times broader than her on her shoulders. The media has already caught a picture of a similar-looking moment one time in 2019 and another in 2021—such times are the beginning of those annoying dating rumors that involves you and Max—and you can say that Twitter is mostly impressed that the Red Bull manager was strong enough to lift a high-performance athlete. Some made memes of it. You'll never admit that you saved some of them, especially the ones that made fun of Max so you could put it above his head. Some even claimed that your YSL heels must be some sort of superhero power up because you do a lot of athletic things in those heels like running through the paddock as if you were just wearing a pair of Nikes, kicking a door down, driving a motorcycle around in Monza to buy Max's morning coffee, and getting in a physical fight with Max’s anti-fan back in 2022. In theory, you can and will absolutely kill a god in those heels and honestly, it's about time YSL sponsors you because you're giving their Opyum heels so much promotion.

What the public doesn't know is that Max is lighter than he looks and paired with your capability of lifting heavy equipment and people due to your history as a volunteer firefighter, it is incredibly easy to lift him without breaking a sweat and yes, even while wearing heels. People are too easily impressed nowadays.

You ignore the confused stares that are sent your way as you hurriedly walk to the comfort rooms. In a matter of seconds, you are power-walking yourself inside the male comfort room, sending an unimpressed look at the two Red Bull rookie employees making out inside. They are horrified when they see you. You can tell with the way their eyes widened and how they scrambled away from each other and hurriedly fixed themselves while muttering a thousand apologies. You don't even need to say anything. They are out before you could even tell them to.

You lock the door behind you before heading towards the bathroom sink and placing Max there. You put your hands on the back of his head and shoulders to support him until he's leaning against the mirror and sitting fully upright. You wish he won't topple over and accidentally hit his head on the tiles.

“Hey, hey,” you tap his cheek. “You good, Max?”

You sincerely hope he won't pass out. Unconscious people are heavier than conscious people when you lift them.

Procuring a water bottle inside your tote bag, you hand it to him. He accepts it wordlessly and down it in one go. You pull out an extra shirt from your bag, “Off with the shirt, big boy.”

Obediently, Max does what he is told and he peeled his shirt off him. You have to help him midway because he got it stuck around his neck. You toss the stinky shirt somewhere on the sink and hand him the shirt you brought. Again, you help him put it on because drunk Max has seemingly forgotten where the holes of the t-shirt are and which limb should enter a specific hole. Oh wait, that sounds wrong.

“You're taking good care of me.”

His voice sounds so small when he utters those words that it almost got swallowed up by the silence of the room and the muffled sound of the party outside.

“Aren't I always?”

You are paid to take good care of him after all.

“Always.”

You wet a towel in the sink and squeeze out the excess water in the wool. Your fingers gently cradle Max’s jaw as you wipe his face. He has a little vomit on his cheek.

You're used to looking at Max’s face up close but you still cannot help but be amazed by the beauty of it, you know? Some people will not consider Max as a conventionally beautiful man. Different people have different preferences. Honestly, you used to be one of those people. You met Max when he was twenty-one and that time, he looked like a fetus and greatly resembled Sid the sloth from the Ice Age movies. You used to tease him all the time about it, calling him a kid and pulling the age card when he needed to be reigned in or to annoy him until he submits into obedience, when you are only a year older than him. The stress of racing caused Max to age quickly but thankfully, he does not age badly. No, instead Max transitioned into an absolute daddy. Thank God he is more like his mother than his father, too. His mother’s genes saved him. Thank you Sophie!

You would have fallen for him, too, like the gazillion women all around the world who'll fall at his feet, but it’s hard to do so when you know he doesn't even know how to peel his own oranges. Drives a car going 300 kilometers per hour and can’t even peel a damn orange.

Twitter is always having a field day when they manage to snap a picture of you peeling oranges for him. Orange Peel Theory or whatever that is. Ludicrous bullshit, to be honest. The only theories you know are the ones taught in Physics class.

“I wonder if you know how much I need you,” he mutter. “I wonder if you can tell.”

“Very poetic,” you say flatly because Max has the tendency to say the most out of pocket yet soul breaking things when he's drunk and you are too tired to rationalize all his musings right now. We love a trauma-dumping king.

“You talkin’ ‘bout Kelly?” you ask, brow raising slightly. You continue to clean his face before proceeding to wipe his arms and his hands.

“I don't know.”

“Okay.”

He probably is talking about Kelly anyway.

Now that Kelly is gone, you’re beginning to get worried for Max. Earlier, as you wrote that resignation letter in your hotel room, the worry of leaving Max was not present. He has Kelly after all. Kelly can easily do the things you did for Max, not that she should do the work of a Red Bull manager because honestly, if she plans on taking up your job now, you’ll tell her to run and save herself. You mean the support you gave Max. You mean going all-out in protecting Max whether from haters or even his own father and especially his own darkness. You mean standing with him, inside that open cage that he can walk out of anytime but chose not to because Jos Verstappen still had his claws on him. You mean not leaving Max, no matter where he stood, may it be at the top of that glorious podium or at the end of the line. You mean taking care of Max the same way you did, even if he insists that helping him is nothing but rotten work.

But then, she left. Now what?

“I want to tell you something.”

You lift your eyes and met Max’s glazed blue ones.

“It is in my will that if I die—”

“You're not dyin’," you cut him off, not even the least bit amused about the idea of Max dying.

“Shush,” he playfully glares at you and you roll your eyes, itching to pull that I’m older than you so don't shush me card just to annoy him. “Let me finish. It is in my will that if I die, my cats will be taken care of by you. Oh come on, stop making that face. You look like you're having an aneurysm.”

“Shut up,” you swat his forearm with the damp towel, causing him to laugh at you. “Why’d you even do that? Give them to your Mom or somethin’.”

“But nobody is better at taking care of someone than you,” he says and his voice bled with rawness and honesty and so much sincerity that you're taken aback. “I want someone to take care of them like how you take care of me.”

You blink, mouth slightly agape. What can you even say to that? Thank you? I’m honored? Dude, what the fuck? Are you confessin’ to me or somethin’? You doin’ big shit over there by putting me in your will.

Now, you’re even more worried. Who will take care of Max after you're gone? The same way you took care of him?

Nonetheless, on December 13, you submit the resignation letter to Christian Horner. He reads the letter with a deep frown marring his face. It's funny how he had the same expression on his face, too, on the first day you met him when you were applying from Red Bull.

“Have you told Max?”

The guy is sleeping in his hotel bed as you speak and will probably be awake in a few hours with the world’s shittiest hangover. So no, you have not told him. Not yet, at least.

“No.”

“He wouldn't be happy with this.”

You know Max does not bode well with goodbyes, especially from the people he closely worked with leaving Red Bull. Look at what happened with Danny in 2018. Now, it is your turn. Two of his biggest friends in the Red Bull team, leaving in search of careers outside his shadow. Being in Max's shadow..... They are right after all. It is a curse.

While you love Max, platonically of course, being his manager is not what you wanted. You did not suffer through four years in engineering school just to become an errand girl for a racer. This is not what you applied for when you sent that application letter in Red Bull and Renault back when you were twenty-two. Renault didn't have an opening in their engineering team so your future with that team was quickly erased. Red Bull had no opening in their engineering team either but they had an open spot on the team as Daniel Ricciardo's manager for a whole season. You accepted their offer, naturally, hoping that their engineering team will have a place for you soon. When Danny left, you contemplated following him to Renault.

Then, Max told you to not go to Renault because they're a shitty team and perhaps he was right because in that sucky car they had, Daniel barely won podiums, but if Renault would give you the position you wanted and worth your student loans, then you'd take it.

"No, stay."

Demanding little prickly ass, he was, "I will win next year. When I become a world champion, I'll ask Horner to move you to the engineering team."

You did not know why you believed him.

2021—Max became world champion. You hoped he would ask Horner like he told you back in 2018.

2022—Max became world champion again but you're still stuck as his manager. You reminded him of his declaration in 2018. He told you he was already on it. Two rookie engineers entered the team that year, taking the spot that should have been yours years ago and you were stuck wondering if Max was really putting truth on his words.

2023—Max became a third-time world champion and you wouldn't even ask anymore.

“I know," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "I'll deal with it."

"I'll trust that you'll be the one who'll tell him?"

It amuses you how no one wants to deal with Max or drop him the big news. Everyone knew how crazy he could get when Max does not like something. He's a menace. He'll terrorize everyone. You're the only one who could hold the menace down.

"Of course, Sir. Leave it to me."

“Are you transferring teams? Are you still going to stay in Monaco near Max?”

Monaco is not home. Home is desert and heat. Home is Texas.

“Nah, goin’ back to Austin.”

Everybody knows Texas was your home, your accent and your manners spoke of it. Some Europeans look down on it, calling you a country bum and a cowgirl mascarading as a sophisticated sidehoe of a champion. Fuck 'em all.

“Everyone in the team is given two weeks off now that we’ve won so your resignation is immediately effective of today,” Horner says. “If the US GP is held at Austin next year, make sure to come by. Max would appreciate it.”

Christian Horner is an asshole but he is at least good to Max and that's what's important.

You get a text from Max an hour later.

him: i feel like shit

him: thanks for the advil and the soup

him: also im flying back to monaco tonight, fly with me

Tonight, you're flying to Monaco with Max Verstappen. Seven days from now, you're flying home alone.

[measuredingold]

caught between black and white

authors note: hello hello hello ! long awaited part two of you right and i know this probably isn’t what you guys were wanting but i wanted noah’s pov to kind of explain why things happened the way they did so… stay with me 👀 part three everything will come together. title from alkaline by sleep token. as always enjoy and feedback is always appreciated :)

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics 🖤

cross posted on ao3 / part one

word count: 3.5k

cw/tw: swearing, arguing, Noah Sebastian Is Bad At Feelings lol, 18+ minors do not interact

Noah's not sure how he got here. Well, okay. Backtrack - he knows how he got here with you, and knows why you're looking at him like you want to fucking smack the shit out of him. What he means is here, right now, in this kitchen. He wasn't expecting to see you, especially after not hearing from you in the last three months. He expected you to keep far from him.

You had to have known he was going to be here tonight? This party - get together, whatever - was literally for him and the guys for completing yet another tour. He had a feeling you hated him, and he doesn't blame you. So, why were you here?

He had just turned away from the fridge to get himself another water when he found you standing across from him, face pulled into a scowl and eyes narrowed in a glare. He jumps a little at the sudden sight of you, eyes widening.

He says your name gently, "Hey."

"Shut up, Noah."

Right. Got it. You're pissed at him. He presses his lips together and nods his head, fingers tightening around the bottle of water in his hands. You shift on your feet, pulling your drink close to your chest. From the flush in your cheeks and you fucking speaking to him in the first time in three months, he's going to assume you've already had a few of those.

"I didn't want to come tonight." You pause, as if you're wanting him to respond, but continue before he could even think of speaking, "I didn't want to see you."

“…Okay."

"Do you know why I didn't want to see you?"

He does know. He knows exactly why you don't want to see him, knows why you haven't texted him in almost three months. He expected a long message of you cussing him out at the very least because he knew you'd never call him. Part of him wanted it, pathetically so, because it was a direct line to you. He still had some sort of connection, even if it was you pissed at him.

After a month of no contact Noah found himself in a hotel room late one night, thumb hovering over the send button of his message asking if you could talk. About what, he wasn’t sure. He just wanted to hear from you, maybe even say he was sorry. His stomach drops the second he hits send, the usual blue text bubble turning green.

You had blocked him. Rightfully so - he deserved that.

"I do."

Your gaze is becoming almost too much and he looks anywhere but you, opting to look at the cabinets above your head. They've become very interesting in the last five seconds. A moment of silence passes, thirty seconds, a minute, and then his eyes drop back down to you.

You're still looking at him.

"What?" He doesn't mean for it to come out so harsh but it does, and his arms tighten around his chest when your eyes narrow at him.

"What?" You laugh, but nothing's funny. "That's all you have to say?"

"What do you think I should say?"

He's digging himself a hole and he's doing it on fucking purpose. He wants you to hate him. Needs you to hate him because if you do, walking away tonight won't be as painful. Your gaze hardens, eyes turning cold as you scoff at his words.

"You can't be fucking serious right now."

"I don't know what you want from me."

"You know what I fucking want," You stop to let out a frustrated sigh, eyes shutting to take a deep breath before continuing, "I want an I'm sorry. I want an I didn't mean to hurt you. I want a genuine fucking apology for your shitty ass behavior."

Noah wishes he could say them, wishes he could give you what you want because he so desperately does want to say that and more. But he can't. His mouth won't move. Instead he swallows those words down, blinking at you.

"But you won't. I know you won't." You laugh again, hands flying at your sides. "Because you never do. You never once fucking apologized for using me for your own gain-"

"You used me, too." Oh, so his mouth can move.

Your eyes narrow again. "I was fucking in love with you, Noah. You knew I’d never tell you no.”

Noah blinks. He wasn't expecting that.

Your easy confession has his stomach twisting, heart dropping, and he feels his body heating up. His neck is probably red at this point. You were in love with him? Sure, he expected there were some type of feelings there for him, but love? There's no way he heard that right.

It's always been so hard for him to even admit to anyone how he felt, no matter the circumstances. He never understood how it came so easy for others. Feelings were so complicated, they made things confusing and it always comes with a price. The price being that someone will eventually get hurt, and that someone is usually him. The thought of letting someone in, letting them through the cracks between the walls he built around himself, makes him sick to his fucking stomach.

What good is it to let you in when you'll eventually leave?

No matter what he felt for you, no matter how much he just wanted to fucking say it back, Noah couldn't. He'd never allow himself to say it so freely, so openly, because he knew what would happen. You would leave. You'd realize he was too... difficult. Too much baggage to handle and realize it wasn't worth it, and he'd have to fix those walls you brought down.

He couldn’t let himself be so vulnerable.

This was easier, for both you and him. Keeping you close enough so he can have you like this, in the way he so desperately wanted, but far enough that you didn't have to see the real him.

"You don't love me." The words fall from him easily, head shaking.

"Don't play dumb, Noah." You laugh again, a pitiful fucking sound and he frowns. "You know it’s true. I wouldn't have stayed this fucking long if I hadn't."

"You don't-"

"No." He shuts up immediately at your tone, lips pressing together. You're pointing at him, eyes back in their narrowed glare. "You don't get to tell me how I feel. You actually don't get to fucking speak, okay? You've done enough."

With widen eyes, all Noah can do is nod. He swallows down the lump in his throat as he watches you let out a long, dejected sigh. You pinch the bridge of your nose, eyes fluttering shut briefly.

"I'm done," You start, and Noah does everything in his power to ignore the wobble in your voice, "doing this with you. I can't do it anymore. I'm done letting... letting someone who doesn't give two shits walk all over me. Use me when it's convenient." His gaze drops to the floor when he notices you lift a hand to wipe at your eyes. "You never fucking cared about me."

He so desperately wants to tell you that that wasn't true, that he did. He damn near felt the same about you, but instead of voicing that he kept his mouth shut and didn't speak like you had asked.

"I just feel so fucking stupid because I never really thought there would ever be a chance. I wasn't naïve. But last time, when you said," Another shaky breath comes from you and Noah's chest tightens at the sound, "when you said you fucking missed me. That all I needed was you. It felt... different. I thought that you..."

He winces at the laugh you let out this time, each one sounding more and more heartbreaking than the last. He used to love your laugh, how full of life it had sounded, but right now he fucking hates it.

"Obviously I thought wrong. You left me. Without a fucking goodbye."

Noah doesn't know why he looks up, because the ground beneath his feet is pretty interesting at the moment, but he does. He wishes he hadn't because you're rubbing at your eyes again but failing miserably, a few stray tears falling down your cheeks. He clears his throat before swallowing thickly, blinking away the sudden burning behind his eyes.

"I wanted to stay." He finally says, your eyes landing on him. They narrow again. "I almost did."

"Bullshit. You never stay."

"I know." A pause. "Doesn't mean I don't want to."

Your eyes soften for just a moment and you watch him in silence. Your gaze still burns before his eyes never waver from yours, trying to get across that he meant it. He could say so much more, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he remains silent instead. He still can't say it, so he hopes that's good enough.

"It's really hard to believe that."

Noah doesn't say anything, just nods because he knows it's hard. He fucking does and he wishes he could just say what he so desperately wants to. He mentally smacks himself because why is it so fucking hard? It shouldn't be. It should be easy, telling the person you want that you have feelings for them.

So, why does it feel like the hardest thing he's ever done?

"I know. You have no reason to believe me. I just..." He finally says, words trailing off and throat closing up again.

He can't finish his sentence, stomach twisting so violently he swears he's going to be sick at any given moment. Your eyes never move from him, watching him so intently he's certain you can see through him at this point. You eventually look away, scoffing to yourself.

"Why?"

His brows furrow. "Why what?"

"Why should I believe you?"

He stills. Why should you believe him? He's given you plenty of reasons not to, and given exactly zero on why you should.

"Um." His chest tightens, breathing picking up because he doesn't know what to say. I love you, too. But is that even enough now? "Because..."

His words trail off again and it's now growing harder and harder to even look at you. He looks down again, body heating up because the room is getting hotter - it's literally just him - and suddenly he wishes he could be anywhere else in the world but here.

You laugh again, much weaker. "If you can't even say it, how am I supposed to believe you?"

Noah presses his lips together and gives you a shrug in response, too afraid to even use his voice. The silence that follows has his skin crawling and every time he hears you sniffle across from him, he wishes the floor would just swallow him whole. He's screaming at himself in his head, chanting Tell her! Tell her! but he can't. He won't.

He's already made his decision.

"I meant what I said," your voice startles him, brown eyes looking up at you finally, "when I said I was done. I am. We can't keep doing this. I can't keep letting you hurt me. I deserve better."

His heart breaks at that because he knows you're right. You do deserve better. You've always deserved better than him. He couldn't give you what you wanted, no matter how hard he tried.

"You do."

"I do."

There's a finality in your voice, almost like the final nail in the coffin, and Noah knows this is it. You were actually done. You were walking away just like he expected, just like he wanted. This was for the best. He knew it. You finally knew it, too.

But why does it still hurt all the same?

"Everything good in here?"

Nicholas' voice has both you and Noah looking up in surprise, flushes on both of your cheeks. The older males clear eyes narrow as he looks between the two of you before his eyes remain solely on Noah. He swallows thickly, head nodding.

"Yeah."

"I was just leaving, actually." You manage to get out, clearing your throat to hide the way your voice wavered. Noah didn't miss it, and neither did Nicholas with the way his eyes narrow even further. You turn your focus to his best-friend and bandmate, mustering up the best smile that you could. "It was nice to see you again, Nick."

"You, too."

Noah's gaze meets yours and there's something in them, something he can't quite place. Longing? Regret? He doesn't know because it's gone as soon as it comes.

"Goodbye, Noah."

And then you're gone, not sparing him one more glance as you make your way out of the kitchen. Noah doesn't move, eyes trained to where you once stood. He doesn't even notice when Nicholas slides up next to him, leaning back against the counter just like him.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Nothing."

"Don't piss me off, dude."

"We were just talking." Noah sighs now, casting a glance at his friend. "That's it."

Nicholas pauses for a moment. "She ended it, didn't she?"

Of course he knew. Noah had told his friend the very second he and you started... whatever the fuck this was. He needed someone to know, someone he could trust. He's sure everyone else suspected it, especially when you two would sneak off together and come back maybe an hour later, clothes and hair disheveled from god knows what.

"Yeah." He nods. "She did."

"Sometimes I wish you'd just let yourself have nice things." Nicholas sighs out, tilting his head back.

"It's not that simple-"

"Do you or do you not have feelings for her?" Nicholas cuts him off and holds his gaze for a moment before Noah looks away, clearing his throat. "Yes or no answer, dude.”

"Why does that matter?"

"It always fucking matters."

"Who cares if I do?" He's growing frustrated now, wanting to talk about anything else but this. "It won't change the fact that she'll eventually fucking leave. She already did, man. I just saved her and I from wasting our time."

Nicholas doesn't respond right away and Noah looks back at him. He fucking hates the look his friend is giving him, soft eyes full of fucking pity because he knows. He knows why Noah acts the way that he does, which pisses him off even more.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Noah, I just want what's best for you-"

"What's best for me, Nick?" His anger only rises at this, face set in a scowl as he finally turns his body to face his bandmate. "Since you fucking know everything."

"Don't talk to me like that." Nicholas points an accusing finger towards Noah, face hardening and brows furrowing.

"And don't act like you know what's best for me." Noah snaps, lips dipping into a frown. "You and I both know this is what's best. She's better off, she doesn't need to deal with..." He motions towards himself, shoulders slumping. "...all of this."

Nicholas' face softens and his frown only deepens. "Noah..."

"And do I wish I could just fucking tell her? Sure, but that doesn't stop the voice in my head telling me she'll get up and leave like everyone else because it's too much." He leans back against the counter, arms crossing. The weight on his chest lightens only a bit at his confession, but the heaviness in his stomach remains. "Watching her leave now is easier."

"Is it?"

"Yeah."

Noah's eyes drop to his feet when he hears Nicholas shuffle around, standing in front of him. He feels his friends hand on his shoulder but doesn't bother looking up, his shoes becoming the most interesting thing to him.

"I wish you'd let yourself have nice things." Nicholas says again, fingers squeezing Noah's shoulder before his hand drops. "And I wish you'd stop thinking the absolute worst when it comes to people. How do you know she'll leave?"

"Everyone does."

"I haven't." Nicholas' response is quick. "Jolly hasn't. Neither has Folio."

"Yeah, but that's different-"

"No, it's not." Another sigh and Noah finally looks up at Nicholas, watching as the male pinches the bridge of his nose. "You can't keep living like this. In the what ifs, consumed by what could happen when you have no fucking clue if it actually will."

"But it will-"

Nicholas stops him again, holding a hand up. Noah's mouth shuts. "You don't know that. Just..." He sighs, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I know it's happened before and it's fucking terrifying, I know, but dude... there's no way that you know she'll leave."

"She just did."

"Because you made her."

Nicholas is staring at him again and Noah feels small under his gaze, which is crazy because he's a few inches taller than him. He knows he's not wrong, he did make her leave, but it was only to protect her and himself from the inevitable.

Right?

"I just want you to be happy. That's all I want." Noah watches Nicholas' gaze soften, a sad smile settling on his lips. "I think she could be the one to do that.

Noha's chest aches at his friend's words, sadness settling in his bones and suddenly he feels... He feels that Nicholas might be right. The feeling is brief though before he's shaking his head, arms crossing back over his chest as he finally pivots his gaze away from Nicholas.

"Well, it's too late for that."

There's a brief moment of silence before Nicholas says, "It doesn't have to be."

"Nick," He sighs, eyes fluttering shut. "It is too late. She's gone. Even if I wanted to fucking, I don't know, chase after her and tell her I'm sorry it won't change anything. She told me she was done."

"Well-"

"Can we just not talk about this anymore? It's done. It's over with. There's nothing else for me to do." Noah's eyes find his best friend again, pushing himself off the counter. "And I'm honestly ready to go. I'm fucking tired. I miss my bed."

He tries his best to ignore the lingering sadness swirling around his chest, shoving it so far back as he reaches for his forgotten water bottle. Nicholas continues to stay where he is, watching Noah with a sort of look he's never seen before. His own eyes narrow at his friend and there's maybe a thirty second stare-off before Nicholas' shoulders sag, a sigh leaving his lips.

"Whatever, man."

A small weight feels like it's been lifted from Noah's shoulder and he gives Nicholas a nod, thankful that he's finally dropped it. Nothing else could be done, Noah knows this. There's no point in dwelling on the what ifs, what's done is done. You're gone and you're far better off, he thinks, even if the thought does make his stomach twist painfully.

That pain will go away soon enough. It always does. He'll go back to his normal self, no more thoughts of you lingering in the back of his mind. He'll be fine. He always is.

Nicholas bids Noah a goodnight, watching as his friend trudges his way up the stairs. He waits until he hears his bedroom door shut before he's fishing out his phone, scrolling through his contact list before he finally comes across your name.

Is he meddling in someone else's business? Sure, but he feels like he needs to do this because he knows you and Noah won't, both way too stubborn for your own good. He has no idea if you'll reply anyways, but it's worth a shot.

Hey! It was really nice seeing you tonight.

He lets out the breath he had been holding when he presses send, watching as the message goes through. Below the blue text box shows that the message had been delivered, and he's glad to know that the only number you seemed to block was Noah's. He sits for a minute, then two, and after five he starts to think you won't answer until he hears a ding come from his phone.

Hi! You too. Sorry I dipped so quick. I had to get home.

He knows why you did, but doesn't bother mentioning it.

It's all good!

I was wondering if you'd like to meet up tomorrow, grab lunch? That little place on 5th that you like. My treat. Been a second since we've seen each other and we need to catch up. Got some crazy stories to tell you.

I think I'm free after 2 tomorrow if that's alright?

Perfectly fine with me, I don't have any plans lol I'll pick you up?

Do you mind if I just meet you there? I won't be home but I'll be nearby there.

Sounds good to me :)

Great! See you tomorrow.

Nicholas reacts to your message with a thumbs up and leaves it at that and he feels the tension in his shoulders finally relax.

He really fucking hopes this works.

[ruwriteshours]

✰ RUNNING AWAY AFTER CONFESSING TO THEM ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ OT7! DREAMIES

pairing: OT7! dreamies x fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, slight angst

warning: shaming reader for being a virgin, a whole lot of cliche, lots of hand grabbing and pulling lol, i got a little too carried away with Haechan & Jeno :p

@xrenjunniesx did smtg similar to this and i got inspired <3

✰ MARK.

"Mark, you have to give yourself a break." You advised, watching as he rubbed his face in exhaustion.

It's been five hours since Mark spent doing his song-writings in his room for his upcoming comeback. As much as you admired his hardwork, you also hated when he overworked himself.

As his best friend, you wanted him to get the rest he deserves but it was impossible for the stubborn boy to succumb to your wishes.

Oh, how much you love him.

Rolling over the bed as Mark continued to do his work on his desk, you begin walking over and snatching his pen mid-way while he was writing.

Mark let out a disgruntled grunt, hand reaching out to grab onto it but you only held it away further.

"Give it back, I still have tons to finish!"

"Not until you get some rest." You stuck your tongue out defiantly, "You've been working for hours, just come here and talk to me for awhile and then you can go back, please?"

Mark looked into your eyes for a moment before letting out a sigh of defeat.

"Fine."

And that's when the both of you find yourself laughing away from the stories you both shared from your childhood.

"Remember that time when you got braces and you were complaining that you couldn't eat meat." You laughed, "So you blended the chicken and started drinking it!"

"Oh man, it tasted horrible. I don't know why I did that." He cackled. "And I look so ugly in braces too!"

"That's not true." You disagreed, watching as he was wiping away a tear from his eye.

"If anything you looked cute." You mumbled, looking down at your feet. "I liked you back then too."

Shit! You didn't mean to say that!

"What was that?"

Fuck! You were screwed.

"Huh? Nothing." You backed away.

"I couldn't hear you just now. Tell me!" Mark pushed on, holding onto your arm to prevent you from retreating.

You pulled away from his grip.

"It's nothing!" You tried again, standing up onto your feet hastily.

"It's not nothing when you're literally red in the face." He said, making a move to stand up as well. "Come on, tell me. We promised not to keep secrets from each other."

"Just let it go, Mark." You groaned, hiding your embarassment.

"We're literally best friends, you have to tell me."

"That's literally the problem!" You snapped.

"What?" Mark paused, looking at you with wide eyes.

"I said you looked cute in braces because I like you back when we were kids." You pulled your hair in frustation, "And I still like you now! Okay? I have always like you more than a best friend!"

As soon as those words leave your mouth, you could feel the clockwork ticking slow, nibbling your bottom lip in nervousness as you watch Mark's face contort to confusion.

Anxiety arises when he begins to open his mouth, but you didn't let him say anything when you dashed out of the room and into the living room, ignoring his calls.

"Hey! Wait, where are you going?" His voice was nearer to you than you expect.

Just as you were about to open the front door, it was slammed shut when his palm made contact with it.

You mentally cursed Mark for his long legs, having that advantage to catch up to you. You could feel his hot breath at the back of your neck, you shuddered at the contact, refusing to turn around despite his body being much closer to you than it has ever gotten.

"Turn around," He demanded, your name escaping his mouth. His voice tickling your ears as you made the move to turn, eyes closed from the sheer shame of confessing to your best friend.

You could hear his chuckle, making you close your eyes even more tightly, if that was even possible. You were definitely sure that your face was redder than before, not having to expect the situation to unfold in the way it has.

"Open your eyes." He said softly.

However, he was greeted with a shake of the head from you, stubbornly refusing to meet his eyes.

He pouted, though you couldn't see as you were still having an internal battle with yourself.

Just then, an idea popped into Mark's mind, hand slowly reaching out to your neck, goosebumps filled in your body as he lifted your head higher. You were confused with his actions and just as you were about to ask him what he was doing, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss.

You let out a sound of suprise as you began to kiss him back on instinct, teeth clashing slightly as his warm lips moulded into yours with such intensity that you didn't want the moment to go away too soon.

Unfortunately, Mark pulled away, which caused you to open your eyes in disappointment.

However, just as you meet his eyes, you could see him smile smugly, face inches away from you.

"I guess you can open your eyes." He teased, which only made you more embarassed, looking away but you were immediately pulled back by his hands and was met with another surging kiss, which lasted longer than the previous one.

✰ RENJUN.

The thing about your friendship with Renjun was that the both of you provide equal balances when it came to taking care of each other. It was never one sided.

He was your emotional support and so were you to him. It was a solid friendship from the start, so it wasn't out of the usual for him to get extra protective whenever you would injure yourself during practice.

So you couldn't understand why you felt a sudden tinge of butterfly at the pit of your stomach this time when he carried you out of the practice room after you sprained your ankle.

In fact, it was such a normal occurence that even your friends didn't bat an eye. You ignored it, thinking that you were still skitterish and that the stupid feeling will eventually go away but the more Renjun took care of you, the more flustered you felt. Flushed faced and stuttering profusely when he would ask if you were okay.

"I told you not to try out that dance move!" He scolded you gently, carrying you in a piggyback as he nagged at you like a worried mom.

Again, usually you would take his gesture nonchalantly but this time, you would only apologise while hiding your face at the crook of his neck.

Renjun smiled at your action, finding you adorable.

"You're lucky you have me."

Ever since then, you began avoiding him for the sake of saving yourself from rejection, you knew deep down that Renjun couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. It even took awhile for you to process your emotions towards him but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense.

Renjun had been there for you, had been your number one support system and was overall, kind, generous and caring. Who wouldn't want him?

Unfortunately, you couldn't take that risk and opted to avoid him until you eventually got over it.

Little did you know, Renjun didn't like it one bit.

Especially when you would go as far as to turn the other way when he would approach you. He let it slide initially, thinking you needed space and tried to be understanding.

However, he was very concerned when you began to act weirdly around him, being too anxious to talk to him and being way too overly jumpy when he would touch your shoulder or doing something as simple as a brush on the hand. He thought he had done something to scare you and he wanted to apologise if he did.

But when he came up to you and did so, he was very shocked to find out your actual reasoning.

"Look, it's not you. It's me!" You cringed, hating the way you sounded. Renjun raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced with your words as well. "I'm serious! Lately, I've been having this strong feelings towards you and I can't help but feel nervous around you."

"What 'strong feelings'?" He asked.

"Do I really need to spell out for you?" You retorted, "I. Like. You."

His eyes widened at your straightforward confession, but you were quick to backtrack on your words when you realised you had just spoken aloud impulsively.

"But it's nothing serious— I swear! I'm just distancing myself so that I can get over it and we can be back as friends!" You chuckled nervously, not wanting to embarass yourself more than you probably have.

Without even looking at him, you turned your heels and began speed-walking away, wanting nothing more than to burn a hole in the ground.

Before you could make your exit, he gripped onto your hand, stopping you from your escape.

"You do have a way of confessing, don't you?" He scoffed playfully, pulling you closer so that your chest would touch his. "Dummy, why would you try to get over your feelings for me?"

"Because I know you don't feel the same— ow!"

You rubbed your forehead where Renjun flicked at, glaring at the boy.

"Idiot, you didn't even let me say anything."

"W-What?"

He leaned in closer, breath fanning your face before he gave you a light peck on the lips.

"I like you too."

And that is when you gained the confidence to pull him by the collar to steal another kiss.

✰ HAECHAN.

"Hey! Get back here!" The infuriating male chased after you, watching as you fastened your pace whenever you saw him.

For the past few days, Haechan had noticed your obvious distance towards him, which only made him upset whenever you refused to acknowledge him. He would sent you texts everyday but was only met by a single tick.

It was frustating to see you get so comfortable around his friends but immediately turning stoned-faced when it came to him, especially when you were the closest to him than anyone else!

Having had enough of your sudden cold attitude towards him, he was determined to find out why.

"What do you want, Donghyuck?" You asked in mild annoyance, partially to cover up the fact that your heartbeat kept racing whenever he was near you.

"Okay, that's it! What's your problem with me." Haechan huffed, arms crossed as he blocked you from the door.

"I don't have a problem with you." You lied.

"Then why do you keep avoiding me?" He asked sternly.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"We're not gonna talk in circles here." He groaned.

"Great, so let me out." You pushed him aside and began walking towards the door.

You gasped in shock when Haechan held your waist to tug your body closer, face buried in your neck. "Haec—"

"Tell me what's wrong." He said, softly this time.

You gulped nervously, hand holding onto his as you tried to remove yourself away from him, but the persistent male held on tighter.

"I'll let go after you tell me the truth." His voice muffled against your sweatshirt.

"Promise you won't laugh at me?" You asked shakily.

"I promise."

He looked up, piercing eyes gazed onto yours as he saw your pinky out in the open, waiting for his to intertwine against it. He smiled softly and reached out for your hand.

You sighed, mind going haywire as you tried to calm your nerves.

"I like you, Haechan. Like— really, really like you." You emphasised, eyes avoiding his as it was focused on your feet, "I got jealous when you got touchy with her because you were never like that to me."

You mumbled the last part.

"Her? You mean, my junior?" He clarified.

"Yeah.." You trailed off, hating how pathetic you sounded.

A moment of silence passed by when you heard Heachan let out a humouress laugh. You frowned, heart clenching at the thought of him mocking you.

"I knew it!" You shook your head, "I should've never told you anything. Forget I said anything." And with that, you took off.

You ran as fast as you could, desperately trying to get away from the most humiliating situation that you had stupidly gotten yourself into.

Too consumed in your self-pity, you didn't notice an incoming car driving its way towards your direction. It was when a loud honk snapped you out of trance but even then, it was too late.

Just as you were about to accept your fate, a hand pulled you, making you collide with the person.

"Idiot, did you not see where you're running!" Haechan yelled, face full of worry as he scanned over your body to look for any injuries.

"You promised you wouldn't make fun of me." You teared up, ignoring his previous question.

"No! I wasn't making fun of you." He explained, hand gripping your shoulder in an attempt to make you look at him. "I just find it funny that you would get jealous of her."

"I fail to see how that's funny." You crossed your arms.

"It's just, I should be the one confessing first." He revealed.

"What—"

"And don't even get me started on how Renjun would get all up on you whenever he sees you. I hate that shit." He rambled on.

"You were jealous." You concluded.

"Was that not obvious?" He shrugged. "So, I guess we both have a fair share of jealousy."

"But we were just talking about you." You justified, still in shock with his confession.

"Doesn't matter, now that we've both declared our feelings, he needs to back away from my girl." He smiled proudly.

"Um, excuse me. Who said I wanted to be your girl?"

"I literally chased you down the street like a maniac, are you really gonna prolong the inevitable?" He deadpanned.

"Hm," You pretended to think, "Walk me back home first then maybe I'll consider."

"I'll do more than just walk you back home."

"Watch it." You said sternly, face beet red as his cocky smirk was plastered on his face.

"God, you're so sexy when you're serious." He leaned over to give you a peck on the lips, "But let's see how serious you can get when I'm balls deep inside you."

And with that, Haechan did fulfill his promise by doing more than just walking you back home.

✰ JENO.

"I'm sure Jeno likes you." Haechan repeated for what seems to be the fourth time.

"Of course he likes me," You deadpanned, holding onto two pieces of dresses that you doubt would look good on you. "I'm his friend but does he like me?"

"Again, yes. He does." The male groaned, looking around to see piles of clothes scattered across your room. "You don't need to dress yourself up too much, he loves your own style."

You frowned, recalling the fretful memory a few days back.

"I heard Jeno likes girly girls."

"Yeah, that's what I heard too." Another one gushed, "That's why I don't see her as a competition.

"I know right. I mean, look at her!"

"Jeno must be blind if he ever goes out with her!"

And to think you met him and started off as casual flirting.

"That's a lie. Do you know how many pretty girls that are just drop-dead gorgeous? And you'd think he'd settle for this?"

"You're underestimating yourself, just ask him out normally." He shrugged, as if it was the most simplest thing you could do.

"Like this?" You asked incredulously, gesturing to your clothes.

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

"Ask him out with a baggy shirt and sweatpants? Are you serious?" You threw your dress onto the floor. "He'll laugh in my face, for crying out loud!"

"Look, I'm not gonna feed into your delusions so I'm gonna head outside and by the time I get back, you better be done." He walked out, ignoring your calls for him to come back.

In the end, you just settled with a warm sweatshirt and a denim skirt. It wasn't too fancy but it definitely wasn't your usual style.

"Are you done yet!" Haechan yelled from the other side of the door, too which you answered back, opening the door as he eyed your outfit with a hum of approval. "Not bad. Let's go."

The whole outing went relatively well, I mean—as well as it could cosidering your failed attempts at trying to ask Jeno out in private was very evident. A second couldn't go smoothly when girls would swoop in and join in the conversation, where you would have to awkwardly leave when the girls would get too flirty.

Little did you know, Jeno dreaded the attention, desperately wanting to spend some alone time with you. He sighed in defeat as he tried to tune out the conversation, shoulder slumping when you walked away.

As if the night couldn't get worse, Mark had drunkedly suggested to play a game of truth or dare. You had reluctantly agreed as Haechan practically pushed you in the circle. You blushed when Jeno sat by your other side, knees touching yours.

Rowdiness consumes the room as each took their turns, you looked away in disgust as Haechan made out with a girl as a dare. When it came to your turn, you had meekly picked truth, causing the room to let out sounds of disappointment.

"Okay." Jaemin smirked, watching you tensed up when he called your name. "When was the last time you hooked up?"

You looked down in shame, knowing that you hadn't been intimate with anyone for as long as you could remember.

Giggles could be heard as the girls pocked fun at you, one of them decided to berate you. "Of course she hasn't done anything. Why would you even bother asking her that?"

You were about to speak up when someone beat you to it.

"There's nothing wrong with that." Jeno spoke up, glaring at the girls. "And there isn't anything cool about shaming others for it, too."

"I'm not shaming her, I just think it's pathetic that she hasn't." She scoffed playfully.

"And you think it's not pathetic that you think you're better than her because of that." Silence filled the room as the girl stuttered, tears welling up her eyes.

"I—"

"For the record, I wouldn't fuck you even if I got paid to do it."

The girl stood up and ran away in embarassment, other girls following behind while glaring at you and Jeno.

It was silent for awhile before Mark spoke up.

"Well, this was fun."

After the awkward incident, the party ended shortly after. Slowly the crowd became lesser and you think it's time to leave after helping with the clean-up. Haechan was your ride and you had to wait outside his car alone while he went to the bathroom. You shivered at the cold breeze when suddenly, you felt a jacket wrapped around you.

Turning around, you saw Jeno, with a big smile as his eyes sparkled under the light. You awkwardly shifted, too shy to look at him for a little longer.

"You okay?" He spoke up, to which you give a firm nod.

"Thank you for standing up to me, by the way."

"That was nothing." He shrugged, "I would have done it to any friend."

Friend.

"Of course, we're friends." You gulped, fighting back tears, "That's all we'll ever be."

He called out your name with a hint of confusion, "What's wrong?"

"You know, I don't think I can stay friends with you." You told him.

"W-What, why?" He asked, taking a step closer towards you.

"I just don't know if I can ever deal with just being your friend." You revealed, "I mean, I can't exactly blame you either, I'm just an idiot for liking someone that's out of my league."

You didn't mean to pour all of your doubt onto Jeno but it was something that had been kept inside your heart for the longest time and it just burst out unexpectedly. Luckily, your conscience stopped you from spilling out more than what you have, shaking your head when he would try to come near you.

"Shit! Just ignore what I said." You said regretfully.

"No, talk to me." He pleaded, your name escaping his lips.

"Just let it go, Jeno." You stepped back, "Forget about it, please."

"No, there's no way I'm forgetting what you just said."

Just as he was about to speak again, Haechan came out, to which you signed in relief when he clicked his car keys, giving you the opportunity to slide in his car, Jeno following behind to stop you.

"You can't leave." Jeno pleaded, "We have to talk about this."

"Leave me alone, Jeno."

"What's going on?" Haechan spoke up, eyeing the two of you.

"I just really want to go home." You ignored Haechan's question, he didn't push further and only gave Jeno a look.

Thankfully, Jeno gave you space, but not before giving you one last glance as you sat on the passenger seat, you didn't bother looking at him, eyes focused on the front as Haechan entered the car.

The whole car ride was silent, Haechan didn't bother asking you what had happened, knowing that you didn't want to talk about it.

"Call me if you need anything." He said.

"Thank you." You closed his door before making your way to your apartment, keys in hand.

You stopped dead in tracks when you see a familiar figure standing outside your door, drops of sweats on his forehead as his shirt was wrinked up. You gulped nervously, mentally preparing yourself as you walked up to your door.

Jeno's head immediately turned towards you, he stood in front of your door with his arms crossed, face full of determination as he stared you down.

"Can you move." You looked down at your feet.

"Not until we talk." He said firmly.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Well, maybe to you but I have a lot to say." He said sternly, "You didn't even let me say anything before you start assuming that I wasn't interested."

"You said I'm your friend." You frowned, confused with his words, "Why shouldn't I assume that!"

"Because I thought you liked Haechan!" He shouted, chest heaving up and down.

"W—What, why?"

"Well, for one, you came to the party with him, and two, both of you would always come in pairs all the damn time so I'm sorry if I saw it the wrong way!"

"You should be because there's nothing going on between me and Haechan." You explained.

"I got that now." He muttered sarcatically, "And what were you even talking about with 'liking someone out of your league'?"

"It's pretty self-explanatory!" You deadpanned, "You're hot— like really hot, and look at me, you'd want to go out with someone who looks like this!"

"Someone as gorgeous as you, yeah!"

"You don't understand!"

"Make me understand then!"

"I'm sorry." A woman's voice spoke up, the room beside you opened as she walked outside the hallway, "Could you both keep it down a little, I have work the next morning."

"Sorry." The both of you mumbled in unison.

"We're done here." You said, taking your keys to open the door as you walked in to slam it shut on him.

However, he put his foot in between the door before squeezing his way inside. "Could you stop running away from me, we're having a serious conversation here!"

"Well, how about I take back my confession so you don't have to stress yourself out too much."

"There's no way I'm letting you take that back!"

"Well, too bad. I did." You crossed your arms, as if you had solved the problem, but your smile quickly dropped when you noticed his expression.

"Are you sure about that?" He smirked, trapping you behind a wall as his arms caged around you.

"What are you doing?" You asked nervously, watching as his eyes looked at you up and down with hunger.

"Changing your mind." His mouth made contact with your neck as you let out a loud moan.

You were in for a long night.

✰ JAEMIN.

Jaemin had always been a romantic. To you, it could come as an advantage or the complete opposite. For one, he would always notice the little things that would upset you, offering comfort and food to cheer you up and overall being the most caring and loving friend someone could ask for. However, his charms played a huge part in fuelling your hopes towards the lover boy. You couldn't risk destroying whatever you had with Jaemin just because you couldn't control your emotions. For that, you couldn't bring yourself to tell him how you truly felt.

This was one of those days. You were sick for the past few days and Jaemin had took the liberty of taking care of you, despite you warning him that he could catch your illness. The boy couldn't care less.

He placed a hot cloth on your forehead, bring you a bowl of soup that his mom made and rub circles at the your hand. All of this actions were too overwhelming for you to the point where you had accidentally blurted out your feelings towards him.

"You're such a boyfriend material, Jaem. I wish you knew how much I love you." You sighed dreamily.

Of course, in your sickened state, you hadn't realised and went back to sleep after your confession.

Jaemin chuckled at that and gently caressed your cheeks, admiring you, even though you were basically at your most unappealing state, tissues stuck up your nose as your eyes were puffy from the flu. Eventually after a few minutes, he too dozed off.

When you had awoken up the next morning, you felt much better than before, thanks to Jaemin. As you shuffled your way to the kitchen, you could already see him cooking up something. You quietly sat down on the stool as you watched him do his thing.

When he turned around, he gave you one of his signature smile that made your heart melt.

"You feeling alright?" He walked over, handing you a plate of omelette.

"Yeah." You yawned, "Thanks for taking care of me, Jaem."

"Of course, why wouldn't I take care of the girl who's in love with me?" He teased, making you freeze in your seat, eyes widening at his words.

"W—What are you talking about, idiot?" You attempted to cover up, chuckling nervously when he rounded to corner to get close to you, in which you backed away in return.

"Come on, let's not kid ourselves here." He smirked, "How long were you gonna keep your feelings hidden away from me?"

You began backing away more further, "Stop coming nearer, you freak!"

"Stop running away then!"

"Get away!"

"Get back here, missy!"

He broke out to a sprint, chasing you around the house when you began picking up your steps. You were red from embarassment and Jaemin didn't make things any better for you.

"Stop running!"

"Never!"

Unfortunately, you did stopped when Jaemin tackled you down on the couch, his hands holding your arms to restrain you from moving. You squirmed under his touch, humiliated that you had just gotten caught.

He began tickling you, to which you only thrash around, laughing hysterically as you begged him to stop.

"I'll stop when you don't make a move to run again." His hands made its way towards your stomach, continuing his attack, "Do we have a deal?"

"Deal! Deal! Just stop!"

True to his words, he did and that's when the laughter died down as the both of you stared into each other's eyes, lost in the moment as he began to lean in. You didn't get to process his actioms before you began kissing him back, hands wrapped around his neck to pull him closer as he gripped onto the couch to support his balance, hovering over you as you both made out.

After awhile, you pulled away, to which Jaemin leaned in again, wanting to get another kiss.

"I'm still sick, Jaem." You leaned away.

"I don't care."

And with that, his lips reconnected with yours once again.

✰ CHENLE.

"Idiot, watch where you're going." Chenle scoffed, bumping his shoulder against yours. "I almost spilled my drink on my shirt because of you."

You rolled your eyes at the taller male. Chenle had been your arch nemesis since the dawn of time. It was never usually serious though, more of light jabs and insult thrown at each other but none were ever meant to be hurtful. You never really hated Chenle, it's just that you had this dynamic where bickering was a constant need to keep the conversations going with him. And you really like aggravating the hot-headed male.

"Whatever, I bet it would make it look better than whatever you're wearing."

"You little bitc—"

"Okay!" Jisung interjected, squeezing his way between the two of you, hand awkwardly stretched to keep a distance. "Let's have fun at this party and not cause unnecessary fights."

"But she— fuck!" Chenle groaned, bending down slightly to rub his ankle that Jisung had kicked, glaring at the male. "Right, Chenle?"

Chenle let out a sigh of defeat before nodding along to his best friend's words, burning holes at your face when you snickered at him.

The night went on, full of alcohol and dancing and you were honestly on the brink of passing out but you kept downing down shots, your body at a point of losing its own control.

"Okay, that's enough." Chenle snatched your glass away, which caused you to whine obnoxiously.

"Dude, you're completely intoxicated. I'm taking you home."

"N-No! I wanna stay! It's fun here." You slurred, stumbling with your balance.

"Uhuh, come on." He held your waist to balance you up, "Let's go."

After bidding goodbye to your friends, he guided you towards his car and just when he tucked you into the passenger seat and helped you with the seatbelt, your words made him paused his actions.

"You know, Chenle. You're lucky I like you because I would never let anyone do this to me."

"Is that so?" He hummed.

"Mhm, here feel my heartbeat." You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest, he could feel your heartbeat beating fast, "It always like that whenever I'm around you."

He smiled softly, a blush crept on his face. "Let's get you back home, cutie."

The following day felt like a blur, you groaned when you stirred yourself awake, only to be greeted by three missed calls from someone.

You grabbed your phone and looked through the call sheet to check who it was, your brows furrowed in confusion when you saw that those three calls came from Chenle.

Just as you were about to ponder more, your phone began to vibrate and he called you again, making you answer his call with a loud huff.

"What do you want?" You said.

"Shower and get ready, I'll pick you up."

When you were about to reply, he had already hung up. In your tired state, you didn't have room to argue and you shuffled your way to the bathroom, yawning loudly in the process.

"Mind telling me why you're acting so weird today?" You entered his car, watching as he helped put on the seatbelt for you.

"Can't I just be nice today?" He shrugged, a smug smile on his lips.

Throughout the car ride, he would occasionally steal glances in your way and purposely shift in his car seat to get closer to you. At first, you didn't think much of it and assumed that you were just overthinking but the more you could feel his arms brushed up against yours when he made a u-turn, the more you couldn't contain your flustered state. Letting a noise of complaint when you realised that he was doing it intentionally.

"Ugh, is it something I did yesterday? I swear, whatever I did or say means nothing. I was drunk." You explained, once he had parked his car outside your destination.

He wasn't fully convinced with your words, "Haven't you heard of 'drunk words, sober thoughts'?"

"Just tell me what I did—"

"You confessed your undying love for me." He revealed, making your eyes widened as you let his words sink in.

"You said I was the reason your heartbeat's beating so fast everytime." He came in closer, hand reaching out to hold your palm, "Let's put that to the test and see if you're lying."

Truth be told, your heart rate was beating so fast that you swore you could hear it. Embarassment flooded through your face as your only thought was fleeing out of the car, reaching out for the door handle, your heart dropped when it clicked back in place.

"Nuh-uh, I knew you were gonna run away." He tsked, "Come on, sweetheart, nothing to be embarassed about."

"Ugh, Chenle. Let me out!" You groaned stubbornly. "This is kidnapping!"

"You're such a drama queen, at least turn around and look at me."

"No!" You refused, "If I do, I feel like I'm gonna humiliate myself further!"

"You won't, just look at me please." He said softly, hand gently holding onto your shoulder to turn you around.

Just as you did so, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. His other hand cupping your cheeks as his teeth gently bite your bottom lip, causing you to gasp as he took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside.

For a moment, you indulged yourself into the kiss, hand reaching out to tug his hair as you both made out in his car.

Pulling away, you slowly opened your eyes, only to be greeted by a cocky smile from Chenle.

"No more running away, we're together now." His hands made its way to yours as he interlocked it.

✰ JISUNG.

"Do you think this girl looks cute?" Jisung showed you his phone, for what felt like the tenth time, at this point, you were grown tired at his obliviousness to your bubbling jealousy.

"I don't know, does she?" You asked in annoyance, trying to appear as if the topic bores you.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you." He scratched his head awkwardly, looking back and forth between his phone and your disinterested figure.

"Are you serious, right now?"

"What?" He tilted his head in confusion.

"Nothing." You huffed, "It's whatever."

"I'II help you find a guy too if that's what you're angry about." He muttered, as if that was what you were truly upset about.

"It's not even about that!" You snapped, head turning back towards the TV screen as you tried to contain your emotions.

"Then what is?"

"Forget it!"

"No, something I'm doing is upsetting you and I want to know what."

"Fine." You looked at him, watching as he slightly flinced at how fast you turned. "Since you want to know so much, I like you Jisung." You rambled on, "And it hurts when you don't feel the same! Watching you for hours finding some chick all while trying to keep it to myself at the fact that I'm madly in love with you!"

You let out a breathe you didn't know that you had held for so long, conscience crept in when you realised you had exposed yourself a little too much. Regret started seeping in as you began rushing to collect your things to leave his apartment before you embarass yourself further.

"Fuck! I should go."

"Wait!" He grabbed onto your hand, preventing you from moving.

You tried to pull away from his hold, shaking your head when he came closer.

"Just leave me alone for now, okay?" You pleaded, "I really need time away from you."

He seemed to hesitate, hand still gripping onto yours when he realised your distress state and eventually loosened his hold, giving you the chance to run away.

Ji: 'I hope you get home safe.'

Ji: 'I know you want space but I really want you to know how much I care about you. Talk to me when you're ready, I'll wait.'

It's been a few days since you've been actively ignoring Jisung, despite him agreeing to give you space, he didn't necessarily stopped checking in with you through messages, to which you only replied dryly.

Other than that, he didn't try to approach you and would only give you a small smile from a distance.

Days went by till weeks and you were still in the process of getting over him. It seems as if the odds were in your favour when you met a a friend of a friend, you both seemed to be getting along well and you agreed to hang out with him when he offered.

Hearing this, Jisung didn't like it one bit. Hating the fact that you were trying to get over him. He rushed at your apartment door, banging on it repeatedly, stopping when you opened it abruptly.

"Jisung?" You asked, "What are you doing here—"

You were cut off when he engulfed you in a tight hug, face buried in your neck as he mumbled something you couldn't quite understand.

"What?"

"I said don't go on the date with him." He pleaded, eyes glossy as he looked at you. "I was an idiot, I should've realised it sooner. I love you too and I was too scared to admit it too!"

You gasped in shock but Jisung still continued on.

"I tried to move on because I thought you didn't feel the same but when you confessed to me that day, I was happy." He explained, "You told me you needed space so I gave it to you, but I can't let you get over me. I won't let you!"

He sobbed quietly in your arms while you tried to soothe him.

"Calm down." You patted his shoulder, but he only gripped your waist tighter.

After a moment, he lifted his head up to which you took the opportunity to give him a kiss. You could hear him gasped in shock but he eventually melted against your lips, moulding it against yours as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

It was safe to say that you had ditched your date.

©ruwriteshours

[rose-n-gunses]

Social media au:

Eddie runs a satirical Instagram account called hawkins--official where he posts memes and fake headlines and stuff shitting on the town because he hates it here and it's fun. Tons of people follow it and they all know it's run by a Hawkins High student they just don't know who.

Anyways, he posts shit on his story all the time when he's at different places (like a picture of steve's pool and "who else at the Harrington House?"). People often respond to it (and get ghosted) or they just show up trying to figure out who it is behind the account but he's already long gone.

Until one day he posts a picture of the ferris wheel and says "yo who else at the fucking fun fair". Not even five minutes later his phone pings because someone has responded to his story. He's about to ignore it, but then he sees who it's from.

Chrissy🌼 replied to your story

I am lol!

He blinks down at his phone and decides, y'know... what the hell. He's bored and the day that he doesn't lunge at the opportunity to be within ten feet of Chrissy like a dog for scraps is the day he drops dead.

You

Well howdy, Cunningham

(Yeah, because that's cool.)

Chrissy🌼

If you're still near the ferris wheel come over to the popcorn stand

I um

I got stood up so I have an extra

Oh and don't worry I'll keep your identity a secret 🤫

Eddie's never looked up so fast in his life. As soon as he finds the popcorn stand he makes a beeline for it, keeping an eye out for Chrissy.

He's thinking of something suave to say when he finds her, but she beats him to it. As soon as she sees him she waves and holds out a little paper bag of popcorn. "Hello, Mr. Hawkins Official."

Eddie takes the popcorn and looks away grinning. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Chrissy hums like okay, sure and smiles into her drink.

He was gonna play coy but she's just so cute that he can't help it. "How'd you know?"

Chrissy does this like. Full body wiggle that just screams see, I was right! "You posted a picture at Benny's a few weeks ago and I could see your reflection in the window," she whispers conspiratorially.

Eddie clicks his tongue. "Damn. I thought I was being pretty covert."

She shrugs. "I don't think anyone else has caught on yet. They don't wanna believe it's you."

"True," he laughs. "So...you got stood up, huh?"

Chrissy nods. "Big surprise, right?"

Eddie snorts. "Well, then. As the official representative of the town of Hawkins, Indiana, would you grant me the opportunity to show you around one of our finest attractions?" He sweeps an arm out dramatically at the fair before offering her his hand.

For a second he thinks she's going to turn him down, but right before he can drop his hand she takes it, grins, and says "Only if you promise to take my picture at the top of the ferris wheel."

"Deal."

(He does, but that picture doesn't go on hawkins--official. It goes on his personal story, along with a matching post of him on Chrissy's.)

[duyxjpg]

Text messages between you & your f1 besties pt. 4

Summary: Just random dialogues between you & your f1 besties + your crush. Friends in question: Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris & Max Verstappen Note: Eventually the boys will take the matters in their own hands since it hurts physically to watch you (be so chaotic). Part 4 of the non ending saga is ready ofc with more chaotic Y/N content + bonus part.

Y/N always fake flirting with Charles just to annoy him. It always works..

Lando receiving his daily dose of headache at 01:34 AM as usual nothing new really..

Gossip girls are just dirty minded. Nothing wrong with Y/N and Maxie at all?!

You believe me when I say Charles is sometimes done with Y/N? Unbelievable but true.

Y/N being Y/N

What do you mean you see someone Bob? You gotta be more specific about it!!

Nothing just Y/N flirting with her babygirl Max.

Tf you mean you don't love Y/N more than Carlos? Is that even possible?

Next target 👉🏼 Christian Horner ✔️shit happens - check

Steiner just don't know yet what he is getting himself into. Y/N is not the one to take a hint and get out of trouble. Hard to believe that Y/N is a troublemaker right?

****************************************************

B o n u s :

random short insight into Y/N life with the boys:

„You are not going to do no such thing!” Y/N protested stamping her feet like a toddler, standing in the middle of the gaming hall.

“Why not? You like him, don’t you?” Charles grinned at Y/N widely. Y/N wanted to punch that smug grin off his pretty face. Y/N wanted to escape this very situation she was forced to be in, well sort of, so badly.

“Don’t grin like the cheshire cat and stop talking nonsense. How dare you?!” Y/N smacked Charles arm. Charles rubbed his arm while trying not to burst laughing.  She looked around. Nervosity took over Y/Ns every single cell. Y/N could not believe that her so called friends made plans with the most handsome and perfect f1 driver on the grid at a gaming hall and did not tell her. Out of million places, the gossip girls choose violence and took her to the gaming hall. Y/N was competitive af and hated losing. The last time she went to a gaming hall Y/N had entry ban for three months.

As Y/N wanted to protest again Lando and Max did their entry. Lando was smiling from ear to ear. What a dumb man Y/N thought, trying the urge to roll her eyes. As for Max, he had his nonchalant way of looking. Casually dressed, his hands in his pockets and smiling at Y/N. What a man Y/N thought. Her "I have a crush on Max Verstappen" vibe was visible from the moon. Awkwardly greeting both of the drivers Y/N wanted to run away. She could feel the elephant in her stomach, yes elephants no butterflies, period.

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

“Y/N please calm down!” Lando laughed at Y/N. Y/N was horrible at racing games and currently she was losing miserably.

“I hate you all, how is this even a fair game? Racing with f1 drivers? What a fugging joke.” Y/N protested for the 100x time in the last five passing minutes.

“Since when do you care about fair play?” Charles mocked Y/N. Since I am terribly losing Y/N thought. She pointed Charles her favourite finger.

“Remember when you cold heartedly with a total serious expression explained me the rules to that one game wrongly so you could win?” Lando questioned with a fake disappointed look in his face.

“You did not!” Max laughed out loud. Laugh again you loser Y/N thought. It sounded like music in Y/N ears. What a beautiful man Y/N thought.

“It’s not my fault, it’s your own stupidity.” Y/N shrug and showed Lando her tongue. Y/N could see from the corner of her eye that Max was smiling while shaking his head. So pretty Y/N thought.

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

“I knew that Y/N would find a way to get her ass kicked out again!” Charles laughed.

“Disappointed but not surprised…” Lando added shaking his head.

“I still don’t know how she managed to punch a hole into the fucking wall!” Max questioned with a slight surprise in his voice.

"It was an "inchident." Y/N replied. Gaining a burst of laughter from Lando, a death glare from Charles and a grin from Max.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

****************************************************

Writers note: I didn't want to let you wait for too long + I thought it would be fun to show short parts of Y/Ns life with the boys. What you do you think about it? Would you like it or no?

[hansluvs]

close to you — itoshi s.

i burn for you, and you don't even know my name - in which you make your debut into the ton expecting to find true love, and instead catch the attention of piercing teal eyes belonging to the man you swore to never acquaint yourself with.

wc: 3.1k+ (ongoing)

tags: regency au, itoshi sae x f!reader, strangers to lovers, (eventual) mutual pining, slow burn, sae is a little shit in every universe i will die on this hill

notes: took me a few months to get back to this but here it finally is! very excited for this idea it's been fermenting in my brain for a while

masterlist | next part

Your debut into the ton was certainly an anti-climactic one. Being the youngest of your five sisters, who had all been whisked away and married by the time you were of-age, everyone's attention had already moved on from your family's matches and preyed on the newer debutantes that had come in from further districts.

However, a debut that had certainly shocked the ton was that of the oldest Itoshi brother, who was the son of the King's advisor and had been close friends with the crown prince along with his brother since they were children. The entire society had been waiting for him to pursue a marriage match since his younger brother, Rin, had tied the knot with a very fortunate debutante the previous season.

Itoshi Sae had the reputation of being quite the rake, and was notorious for never taking the same woman to bed twice. He was very easily bored, as he put it, always looking for a new source of entertainment. Which consequently swiped marriage right off the table, as words from the mamas claim he's never so much as considered it.

Yet there he is now, standing beside his mother and younger brother, nursing a glass of lemonade. His teal eyes are carefully flitting around the room, seemingly cold and calculated. You hoped they would not meet yours.

As much as the alluring man across you had piqued your interest, you were determined to achieve your one and only goal for this season: to find a love match, and ultimately decided that Itoshi Sae was certainly not the man for the job.

A gentle hand had rested on your shoulder and you turn around to find Mikage Reo, the only son of the Viscount Mikage, and your dearest friend.

"Nervous?" he asked, a cheeky grin on his charming face usually reserved for poking fun at you.

"Hardly. I find it's quite boring, you promised me more fun than this," huffing out a sigh, you take another sip from your lemonade. 

Reo lets out an amused chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way you've always admired. You've harbored an unrequited crush on him for quite some time now, ever since their family had moved in across the street from yours and he had introduced himself with that same toothy grin he now flashed at you.

"It is uncharacteristically dull tonight, I suppose. Would you fancy a dance instead?"

Reo would have been the perfect match for you; attractive, intelligent, humorous, and not to mention from one of the most well-off families in town. You two got along well, and it was no question your shared affection for one another.

"And risk Seishiro shooting another rude remark at me? Thank you, but I'll pass."

If only he had not been in love with your older brother, Seishiro - who had returned his feelings, which you only found out this summer. Reo shoots you a scolding look, as if to warn you about someone overhearing your conversation. It was, after all, inappropriate for two men to be involved romantically within the ton.

Which was why your brother was standing a few feet away from the pair of you, a bored expression on his face as he pretended to listen to whatever Mr. Bachira was talking excitedly to him about.

Reo hurriedly scribbles down his name into your dance card then gently pulls you onto the large ballroom floor. "Don't worry about him, he's not the one making their debut. Besides, someone needs to dance with you in order to gain the attention of other suitors."

As the orchestra plays another lively tune, you scoff at your friend. "I don't need you to attract suitors! I can do that perfectly by myself, thank you very much."

"Really?" Reo smiles, lilac eyes not pointed at you but at somewhere, someone in the crowd instead. "So, do you reckon that Mr. Itoshi Sae would have noticed you had I not intervened?"

"What are you on about?"

As the pair of you turn, you finally see what Reo had meant.

Itoshi Sae, with his piercing teal eyes and indifferent expression, had been watching you move across the dance floor the entire time. Like a hawk.

The two of you meet each other's gaze and a shudder runs through you as Reo twirls you away from him. A sudden, awful feeling sinks into the pit of your stomach, and it seems that you were entirely incorrect.

This season would be far from boring, as you'd come to find out.

[monsterpr3y]

The first draft of The Lab

Lying on the floor of my cell, filled and covered with cum, I began to reflect on how I got here. Go on an adventure, I thought. See the world and find yourself, I planned. Well, I did a little bit of that. in the end, it was finding myself that lead me here. I found that I got a rush from stealing and cheating people. That sneaking in the shadows and liberating someone's purse gave me such a thrill. The richer the mark, the more exhilaration in taking their most prized possessions. I once stole a whole ass tapestry from the wall of a manor while the owner watched me. 

That way of life caught up with me. 

As you probably suspect by now, I stole from the wrong person. A mad scientist is going to have cool shit, so when I heard rumors of one living in a secluded tower all by himself I knew I had to hit it. 

This man was devious. And I mean that in all ways. Before I even got inside he'd clocked me, magic or some invention alerting him to my presence and went completely unnoticed. Then there were the booby traps (in one case literal) everywhere, so cleverly hidden that the master thief I'd become caught maybe one in five. I didn't even notice the one that drugged me, as it was through skin contact and brushed my face. I'd like to think that without that I wouldn't have walked right into thin wires that constricted on my arms and legs, but also onto my breast's, like it was waiting for a female to walk into it.

Everything went dark after that. When I came to, I was on a cold metal table, naked, and restrained, staring up into the oversized eyes of the scientist examining me with some vision magnifying contraption.

“Wonderful, you're awake! I am so glad you came to join us!” He hustles off the stool he'd been standing on and somehow I was taken down by a scrawny halfling? I'd never live this down with the other adventurers if they found out.

“I'm sorry for trying to sneak in, but I'd heard rumors about your lab and couldn't resist wanting to take a peek” maybe if I flatter his scientific ego he'll let me go.

“Oh my dear you're about to have the best seat in the house when it comes to my experiments!” 

I didn't like the sound of that. I needed to get free, but none of my skull with lock picking would help when my hands were restrained above my head, and whatever was holding them to the table was below the table. I could barely even wiggle my fingers.

“The only intruders I've had to date were men, and they just won't do for the experiments. Their primary motivation seems to be procreation, and they are smart and can tell a human male from a female. Watching them be torn apart in the arena was enlightening however!” 

“Excuse me! You plan to do what with me? Let me go right now!” I'm finally starting to struggle, as I realize my predicament. What the hell does he mean procreation? I thought I was naked on this table because he was going to play with me, which as a female adventurer is nothing new to me. Whatever he's talking about sounds a whole lot worse.

“Oh, but you're never leaving. Who knows, maybe they'll break you so badly you enjoy it” and he's out a side door. I struggle almost manically, desperate to get away of whatever hell hole I've fallen into, but he knows what he's doing with these restraints. I would almost be excited to be restrained and taken by the scientist, bondage always made sex hotter for me, regardless of my level of willingness.

The table begins to move, but it's not just a table. It lifts so I'm in a standing position and then it begins to retract in multiple pieces, leaving me bound with my arms and legs spread in an X in the middle of the room.

“Now I'm going to start you off with just one, so I can gage what you can handle” the scientist shouts down to me from a platform about 20 feet above me, where he's sitting cross legged holding a notebook and pencil in one hand, and the other is about to pull on a rope.

Metal grates and a chain clanks behind me, but I don't have enough slack to turn and see what's coming for me. I hear a slithering coming upon me, but slimier somehow. Thrashing against my bonds I realize that his experiments are monstrosities, and he's unleashing one to fuck me. 

My inner thigh is stroked by a slimy… appendage? I can't see what it is but it's not a finger or hand, and it's joined by another and another, until 8 or more are stroking my legs and torso, the slime on them oozing and coating my skin. Without warning 2 of the appendages find what they are searching for and my cunt and ass are both invaded. I scream and struggle harder, but there's still no wiggle room in my restraints. I begin to sob as the creature moves below me, and I see a Catacomb Slug take shape, the tentacles on its bulbous head now using my holes.

I get a brief respite as it moves far enough past me that the tentacles no longer reach me, but now I can see what's coming for me, and I've never wished to be blindfolded more ardently in my life as I see it's mouth open. 

“We need to lower you by increments for the next parts” the scientist is entirely way to enthusiastic about this, completely deaf to my sobs and pleading. I lower by about 2 feet, right above the grotesque mouth with its jagged teeth, and I'm sure I'm about to die… tho death would probably be better than whatever comes next.

It's tongue inches out of its mouth, long and rough looking, with even more slime dripping from it. I will never feel clean after this. As it extends it splits in 2, as if it's been forked, as I've never seen one do that.

“Now you get to see where the experimentation has come in. It's fascinating really, I've had this pet since it was a baby, it was actually cute back then, but I wanted to see what would happen if I introduced other DNA to it while it was still in its egg sac. I didn't know what I was doing as well back then, so it was a cocktail of things and he got the forked tongue of a snake, am amphibious nature from the frog, but also that DNA mutated it's slime. Instead of having a hallucinogenic property like the frog, it first numbs it's prey, and then it begins to tingle on the skin, and as it absorbs it creates a euphoric effect”

The tingling had already begun, tho I wished I'd stayed numb. It builds and builds, somehow centering on my clit, and I am breathing heavier than I should be for how little I'm able to struggle. But then a glorious detached feeling occurs, and my mind feels released from my body as pleasure courses through all my veins. 

At that moment the 2 tongues begin to probe my holes, a glorious friction from the rough texture they have, and between that and the tingling I know I'd be soaked even without the slime. A low moan escapes me, and suddenly I no longer want to fight back. No man's cock has felt this good, no finger has elicited such pleasure as the sensations building in my clit as I'm fucked thoroughly and my first orgasm builds so intensely that my screams reverberate off the walls.

“Interesting, the subject has a much stronger response than expected. I anticipate great fun in witnessing my creatures break her.”

As my orgasm subsides I begin to lower again and the slug moves forward, its tail right below me. It lifts it up and it's cock emerges from the tip, and I suddenly am glad for any numbing and euphoria, as it's bigger than even the tongues, and knotted all along its length. 

“And now we see the results of the werewolf DNA that was added in. Surprising result really, that it's cock was the only part affected, I do hope that it doesn't break you before we're barely started, but he's never gotten a chance to use it and I feel sorry for the poor lad”

It slams it into my cunt up to the first knot, filling me so full, but feeling good so far. The first knot pops inside me, and now I'm stretched and I'm sure would be screaming if it's slime hadn't prepped me. It stays at this length and roughly fucks me, my body in pain but the slime still working on the pleasure. Faster and faster he pumps into me, a mewling sound emitting from it, and just before it cums, a secondary cock emerges and slams into my ass, just as the second knot enters my cunt, and both absolutely explode with cum, my stomach bulging from the pressure of how much has been secreted into my body. Both cocks slip out of me, and it curls up in the corner ready for a nap.

“Not even any bleeding, fantastic, excellent! You'll do wonderfully my dear” the scientist says as my bonds loosen, and he enters the room again, putting a collar and nipple clamps on me and using a chain attached to all of them to pull me from the room and lead me to the cell where I'm now laying and reminiscing, covered in the cum of multiple monsters, and replete from all the orgasms they gave me in the process.

[distortionbobble]

pairing: michael 'mikey' berzatto x f!reader

warnings: angst with no happy ending, talks about substance abuse, no mention of mikey's s*icide

a/n: i don't know why i got the idea for this but then i started writing it and then more came and i couldn't stop and then it got a little too personal for me! so here we are. listened to dial drunk by noah kahan while writing this

wc 5K

You can’t cook for shit. And maybe that says something about you, says something about the way you were raised because your mother was a fuckin’ culinary genius but you didn’t seem to get much of that. You didn’t get much from your mother, including her time. But it didn’t matter much when you were younger, because your babysitter’s house was right next to the Berzatto’s. Natalie Berzatto happened to be just your age and she’d taken you in pretty damn quickly. After that, you were one of the Bears, no question about it. You looked after Carmy like he was your own brother, laughed at Richie’s jokes and called him Cousin like he was one. But Mikey… 

Well, Mikey was another story. 

And then you’d gotten swept off of your feet by your boyfriend, the one who promised that the two of you would be stars together in L.A. Chicago had been left behind, with Mikey and Richie and Sugar and Carmy in it. L.A. had been nice, at first— you were a waitress and he was looking for jobs. Then he stopped looking for jobs, and you were still a waitress. By the time you realized that you had walked into a dead end it had been five years, and you didn’t have anything to show for it. So you packed it up, headed back to Chicago and Natalie and Carmen and Richie and Michael. Back to your safe place. The Berzattos. 

You stand before their house now with a tote bag full of farmers market veggies, something that you started doing when you were back in California. Your heart is in your throat— you’re nervous, you realize— but you knock and the door swings open almost instantly. Sugar stands before you, her typical sweetness held back by a reservation that you earned by calling her less and less as the years went by. You swallow, about to say something, but she pulls you in for a hug, and her arms feel like you never left. 

“Hey, Spice,” she murmurs into your hair, squeezing you tight. Sugar and Spice, always together. That’s what the two of you were. 

“Hey, Sug.” 

“You didn’t call,” she whispers, still holding on to you tightly. She’s right, you know it, and there’s so much to tell her because of it. You just hold her tighter. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” She pulls away from you, eyeing you up and down before she smiles brightly and pulls you into the kitchen. 

“Carmy, Mikey, Richie, look alive! Guess who’s here!” She shouts, and the three all stop their chaotic kitchen shenanigans to look at you. 

“Spice? No fuckin’ way. Finally left that jagoff for good, huh?” Richie jokes, pulling you in for a hug. 

“Sure did, Cousin,” you grin, clapping his back. Richie may be a special breed of insane but you can’t deny the love you have for him. 

“Good to see ya, Spice,” Carmy smiles, pulling you in for a side hug. Your awkward pseudo-little brother, the one who you helped with English in high school and always wanted to be around you and Sugar when you went out. 

“You too, Carm.” 

And then there was one. 

Michael Berzatto stands in the middle of the kitchen, and he feels the way he always does, like he’s filled every part of the room and you’re connected to him even before you’re touching him. 

“You look good, Spice,” he says. Your arms wrap around his middle and you hold him tight— he smells like oregano and parsley and spices, and you press your head into his chest as you let yourself be engulfed by him. It feels right, this. 

“Thanks, Mikey Bear,” you say, lifting your head but still in his embrace. He smiles softly, brushing your cheekbone with the back of his knuckles and then releases you. 

“So, like I was saying before Spice so rudely interrupted me, huh?” He grins, biting his tongue cheekily when you scoff in mock amusement. “Richie and I, we’re at the bar and this asshole, he’s all ‘Quit staring at my girl,’ but the chick had just spilled peanuts, like, all over the floor of the fuckin’ bar. Shit’s a mess, like bro, we’re just wondering if you’re gonna clean it up. Yeah, he did not like that. Not a little bit. So he gets all,” Mikey puffs up his chest and squares back his shoulders, staring down at you as he pretends to get up in your space. “And Richie and I, we’re like—“ 

“Dude, what the fuck?” Richie chimes in, laughing. “Wasn’t so funny three seconds later when he’s got a big ol’ kabar knife out and he’s slashing at Mikey’s bicep.”

“Yep, still got the scar,” Michael laughs, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to show the silvery puckered skin on his upper arm.  

“Chrissake, Mikey,” you laugh, reaching out to trace it with your fingers. 

“Hey, Spice, you mind helping me prep the veggies?” Sugar asks from behind you.

“You sure you wanna have her doing that?” Carmy asks with a shy grin. “She might add her fingers or somethin’ to it, the klutz.” 

“Still shit at cooking, huh, Spice?” Michael laughs at you. You narrow your eyes playfully. 

“I’ll have you know, Michael Berzatto, that I can in fact make a mean grilled cheese. Just so you know.” Michael smiles as you begin to slice the vegetables at a painstakingly slow pace. 

“Alright Spice, then you gotta make me a nice grilly cheese, ‘kay?” Michael grins. 

Sugar whispers something to Michael, making him clear his throat awkwardly. You have no doubt it’s a reminder to him to be gentle; that you’re fragile, damaged goods right now. She’s right. It’s a reminder of the time you wasted with that man, but it doesn’t matter now. 

You keep cutting the veggies. 

~~~

It’s around nine by the time that dinner’s all done and the dishes all cleaned. Your laughter hasn’t run out but you’re tired, and you need the time alone to go and feel sorry for yourself. You deserve that, you think, because you went and pushed Sugar away when she had your back like nobody else. Still does. Loyalty like that doesn’t come easy. 

She had her hand on the side of your chair the whole dinner, like you were gonna bolt at any second and it was the only way she could keep you by her side. You wanna tell her that it’s for good now; that you’ll be by her side forever now. It’s just that it got hard to call when she’d ask you about your life and it felt fucking pathetic to tell her you moved all the way out here for an asshole who didn’t do his own dishes. So when telling her the truth got too hard you stopped telling her anything. And that’s on you. But you’re back now, and that’s the best you can offer. 

You’re walking to the trunk of your car, tote bag now stacked with little Pyrex dishes with leftovers of Mikey and Carmy’s creations, when Mikey calls your name from the doorway. He jogs out to you when you look up, surprised.

“Hey, lemme help you put your shit back,” Mikey offers, but you know Mikey enough to know that’s just a poor excuse. He lingers by the trunk as you shut it, taking a quick breath before he gathers his courage. You’ve never seen Michael nervous like that. “So, um, Spice. You’re—you suck at cooking.” 

“Thanks so much, Michael. Is that what you came out here to say?” You laugh, shoving his shoulder away as you walk to your door. 

“No, no, I was wondering if you’d like to learn to cook. From me, I mean. Just the basics, y’know, but— we could do it, yeah?” And you wonder why Mikey even bothered asking because he’s Michael fuckin Berzatto and you could never say no to him. You nod excitedly, maybe a little too excitedly, but you missed him and you missed his energy and you want to be around him so of course you’d say yes. Without a heartbeat of doubt. 

“Yeah, Mikey. I’d fuckin’ love that.” It’s hot in Chicago tonight, and the pavement is radiating heat or maybe it’s Michael, because you feel warm inside and you think part of you’s gonna stay stuck here forever. Forever with Mikey, that sounds nice.  

~~~

You’re starting off easy with spaghetti tonight. You bought some new pans and shit, hoping to get it all set up before Mikey comes. You’re thinking about him long before he comes— about how you felt about when you were kids, that bashful feeling you’d get when he’d say hi and that little flicker of jealousy when he talked to other girls or about other girls in front of you. But Mikey Bear was so hopelessly off limits— it’s not like him and Sugar had a bad relationship but she’d never be truly okay with you dating him. Besides, you never did get the vibe that he felt the same way. So you admired from afar, and enjoyed Mikey the same way everyone else did. 

But maybe it’ll be different today. Just maybe. 

Mikey rings the doorbell and he fills the room the second you open the door, big and loud and joking around as he sets down big cans of tomato sauce and eggs and flour. 

“Okay so I got the spaghetti from the store—“ 

“Stop right there,” Mikey interrupts. “Spice, if we’re cooking, we’re going all out,‘kay? Now c’mere, I want you to grab a knife and start cutting this onion up.” Mikey grabs his phone and starts playing some music from the tinny-sounding speaker. It’s not a song you recognize but Mikey sings along to it anyways, humming and stirring the eggs and flour to make the pasta himself. 

You work on cutting the onions but you’re slow, something that doesn’t surprise you but you feel a little embarrassed next to Mikey. 

“Spice, hey, hey, Spice, you’re cuttin’ those up all wrong,” Mikey says in quick alarm. He comes up from behind you, fingers encircling your wrist as he presses his chest into your back. You don’t know if you’re breathing— you think you forgot how to, the warmth of his body making your brain short circuit. Mikey covers your hand with his own, moving the knife through the onion and leaning down so his face is next to yours. 

“All done,” Mikey murmurs, stepping back, and the immediate loss of his warmth sends a pang of want up your spine. 

You work for the rest of his dinner under his guidance, enjoying how he tells you about Tina and Ebra and what Fak’s been up to, laughing at all the right points and feeling so much like that version of you that had been so in love with him. He makes the pasta from scratch, making a mess of your kitchen counters, but mess is a memory and you’re glad to make it with Mikey.  

He’s so gentle with you, and it’s obvious in the way he talks about your life in L.A.. He offers you a job at The Beef but you turn it down, knowing it’ll just run you back to what you ran from, just this time without the dead weight. But he’s so fuckin’ sweet it might rot your teeth. Mikey makes you feel like you’re some sort of comedic genius— like every word that comes out of your mouth is one that he couldn't be more fascinated by. You’re sure he’s like this with everyone (because that’s who Michael Berzatto is, he walks into a room and everyone loves him) but you feel… special. And maybe he really does care because he’s got this look in his eye that makes you wanna lean in and kiss him the way you wanted to when you were young and he was only a couple years older or when he watched chick flicks with you and Sug because he wanted to spend time with her. You’ve gotten the little side rays of his light but this, this sweetness unfiltered and on your tongue, he’s so bright and you can’t look away and you want all of him. All of Michael Berzatto. 

“Alright, Spice. What was the best part of L.A.?” Mikey asks you as you set the plates of spaghetti down on the table, sitting across from him. 

“Uh. Leaving it?” You laugh, prompting Mikey to laugh too. 

“Nah, but I’m serious. There’s gotta be one thing that you liked about it, right?” He asks, leaning his elbows on the table. The pieces of his hair fall into his face, giving him that rugged, could-care-less Mikey look that you’ve never been able to resist. 

“Okay, well, uh, there was this crow who was always right by my apartment complex, and I know it sounds ridiculous, but he knew me. Like, I’d feed him seeds and fruits and shit like that every single day before my shifts, and most days it felt like he was the only living thing in that city who would care if I was gone. He’d bring me coins and twigs and bits and baubles all the time and I thought it was just the sweetest. And then one day I saw that he had a little nest with little eggs in it and then I thought, y’know, I think it’s time for me to move on too.” You smile at the memory. 

“Fuckin’ Snow White over here,” Mikey teases. 

“Shut up,” you laugh. “So what about you? How has The Beef been running? I’m so proud of you about it, by the way. And I heard you moved in to help Donna out. You’re the fuckin’ sweetest, Mikey Bear.” You see Mikey’s eyes dim for a second— just a brief flash, gone so fast you thought you imagined it, because the next second he’s back to smiling and laughing. 

“It’s good, Spice. It’s real good.”

“And you love it?” You guessed, smiling. Mikey sips his water and smiles back at you. You take note of his silence but don’t say anything, eating your spaghetti as he moves on to the next great Mikey story. 

~~~ 

Mikey comes over a lot. It’s not every day but it’s damn near close to it. It’s comfortable. He comes by your house on the way back to the Berzatto house, and he brings food and teaches you how to cook and peel and season and makes you feel loved through his food. You feel special, like the great Mikey Bear chooses to spend time with you so often. 

You’re making chicken-pepper tonight, which is something that The Beef holds on its menu. 

“I feel pretty special, being taught by a subject matter expert on this,” you tease Mikey as he murmurs a behind, hands ghosting your hips as he squeezes past you in your tight kitchen. 

“Alright, Spice, you gotta give me some room here,” he grunts, towel slung over his shoulder as he moves the pan with the chicken off of the stove. 

“I’m trying, Mikey, but there’s no damn room and I still wanna watch what you do,” you groan. He nods, like he’s thinking of something— which is dangerous, because Mikey’s ideas usually are. Before you can register it, Mikey’s bent down and wrapped his big, beefy arms around your waist and hoisted you onto your countertops. 

“This work, Spice?” He asks cheekily, seasoning the chicken as you blink in surprise. 

“I mean… I guess so,” You stammer out, confused. You’re distracted as you watch him cook, your mind dwelling on the feeling of his hands on your body, thinking about what it might feel like if he came over here and kissed you right now. You’ve missed several steps by the time that Michael calls out your name, holding out a fork with a little piece of chicken on it. 

“Where’d you go, Spice?” He asks you softly, blowing on the food before he holds it to your mouth. Mikey’s eyes are tender as they meet yours— no judgment, just a genuine want to know what you’re thinking. It makes you think of the difference with how your ex treated you, how he’d ridicule you when you got lost in thought. “You do that a lot?” You shrug, chewing on the chicken as you nod. 

“Mikey, that’s delicious,” you smile. You’re lost in his eyes for a second, and the world feels like it hit pause. The warm glow of your kitchen lights make everything softer, and your hand reaches out to rest against Mikey’s face. You rub your thumb softly against his skin and he’s staring back at you, eyes gentle as he looks at you. 

“Hey, can I- can I try something?” You ask, almost shyly as you steel yourself with the courage to go through with it. When Mikey nods you push yourself straight, lips hovering a centimeter away from his before he bridges the gap. His lips are soft and warm against yours, moving just slightly before he pulls back. 

“Spice, I… I’m sorry, but we can’t,” Mikey says, taking a step back as a red flush rises up his neck. 

“No, I’m sorry, I get it,” you say, heart beating rapidly. You try to squash the swell of nausea but you can’t, the anxiety welling up in you as you realize you’ve gone and fucked it up. “Um, should we eat now?” 

“Nah, I think— I think I’m gonna head home, Mom probably needs me,” Mikey says, swallowing roughly. You want to cry— you can’t lose him, but you’ve got to give him his space. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You ask hopefully, a surge of disappointment rising at his hesitant nod. Then he’s out the door, raking a hand through his strands and leaving his hair in disarray. Your nose twitches at the smell of something burning— Mikey forgot to turn off the heat, and now the chicken’s burning. Shit. There goes your dinner, along with the rest of the night. Fucked. 

~~~

You waited for Michael the next day. And the next. It took you about a week to realize he wasn’t coming back, and while that was difficult to swallow, you realized you had to keep going. And for the next month you made the dishes you’d made with Mikey, practiced cooking on your own, always making enough for two just in case he stopped by. 

You regret the kiss. Of course you do. You thought there was something between you— all that tension building in the kitchen every time you cooked with him, the softness of his hands and how intimate every moment with him felt. But you were wrong. He just saw you as Sugar’s best friend and probably treated you with kindness because of that. Maybe even because he pitied you. Whatever it was, it was your fault that it had fallen apart. 

Tonight, though, you have a date. No more sitting around pitying yourself, you’re going out. Sugar connected you with one of Pete’s friends, who’s coming tonight to pick you up and go to a restaurant. You’ve got on your nicest dress, did your hair and makeup and you look good, dammit. So why does it feel like something’s missing?

There’s a sharp rap on your door as you struggle to hook the clasp of your necklace, the noise making you lose your focus. 

“Coming!” You call out, a hint of frustration light in your voice as you attempt to hook it while you open the door. To your surprise, it’s Michael at the door, standing with a big grin and a few bags of groceries in his hands. 

“Hey, Spice. You’re lookin’ good,” he comments lowly, a hum sitting behind his teeth as he looks you up and down. Your surprise doesn’t outweigh the flutter in your belly when he says that. 

“Thanks, Mikey,” you say, hugging the door. “Didn’t realize you were coming today, Bear.” 

“You mind if I come inside?” He asks— it’s a formality, he’s already one foot in the door before you can say a word. 

“I’ve actually going to dinner tonight, hence the looking-nice-today,” you supply, closing the door after him awkwardly. 

“Spice, you look good everyday,” Mikey protests, already headed to the kitchen to put down his bags. “For dinner tonight— branzino?” 

“Mikey, Bear, you didn’t hear me right, honey. I’m— I’m going out. For a date.” Michael freezes then, bags slipping through his fingers as some shadow crosses his face. 

“Oh.” Oh? That’s all he has to say? Whatever. 

“Yeah. And I’m, um, I’m sorry about the— the, y’know, the kiss. I feel really terrible about it.” You reach back to attempt to fix the clasp, but Mikey’s already walking towards you. 

“Nah, lemme get that for you,” he says, and his fingers sweep across the back of your neck, right where it’s sensitive, following the bumps of your spine to where you’re holding the clasp up and he takes it from you. Mikey looms over you as he stands behind you and he’s so everything that you almost feel like he’s engulfing you. It’s bad that you want to throw yourself into his arms and say fuck the date. Especially because that’s not what Mikey wants. 

There’s a knock on the door by the time he’s finished figuring out the contraption. 

“That’s him,” you say, turning to him shyly. “Whaddya think, Bear? Does it look nice?” 

“Get the door, Spice,” he says quietly, leaning back on the kitchen counter as you fake a smile at his subtle rejection. You open the door and Pete’s friend stands there— typical finance bro, Patagonia vest and all but you’ll hand it to him that he looks nice. 

“Hey, Jacob,” you smile, reaching out to hug him. “It’s nice to meet you. Come on in, I’ll just grab my shoes and my keys and then we can go?” 

“Sounds good,” Jacob responds, kicking off his shoes and stepping into your apartment. “I’m Jacob, it’s nice to meet you,” he extends a hand to Mikey, who just looks at it stoically. 

“And I didn’t ask. Spice, you’re going out with this guy? Nope. Josh or whatever the fuck your name was, you can leave now.” Jacob stammers as he looks at you and Mikey, unsure of what to do. 

“Mikey, cool it, you’re being a bit of an asshole right now,” you say, slipping your purse over your shoulder. 

“Nah. Leave,” he says, standing up straight. And it’s fucking intimidating. You’ve never seen Mikey like this, all big and mean and up in someone else’s face. “You don’t even deserve to be in her apartment right now. And I’m being nice to you so fuckin’ get a move on and leave.”

“Michael Berzatto!” You admonish, but Jacob is already backing up. 

“Look man, I don’t know what’s going on here but I just came to take her on a date—“

“And that right there is the problem. You ever come round here again and I swear to you you’ll regret it,” Michael snarls. His face is distorted with red-hot anger, and you don’t know what you can do. 

“I think it’s best you leave,” you murmur to Jacob. “I’m sorry about this,” you say, walking him to the door as Michael fumes behind you. The door closes with a soft click, and you rest your head on the cool surface as you gather yourself. 

“Spice, I-“ 

“Michael Berzatto, what the fuck was that?” You shout. He winces and you know you should reign it in, keep your cool, but you’re absolutely furious with him. “You embarrassed me back there!”

“Spice, baby, he doesn’t deserve you. I’m just lookin’ out for you,” he murmurs, but there’s a desperate quality to it. Like he wants to convince you but even more so himself. 

“This is just fucking— this is unfair as fuck, Michael,” you warn, tossing your jacket and purse onto the couch in your anger. You reach back to undo the necklace Michael had just put on you, smacking his arm away when he reaches out to help you. “If he doesn’t fucking deserve me, who does, huh? You? Does the great Michael Berzatto deserve me?” You sneer angrily, pushing his chest as you get in his space 

“I don’t deserve you,” He responds quietly, meeting your eyes with such tragedy that it chips away at your stony resolve. When you go silent at his words, he hesitantly reaches out to cradle your jaw, tucking his fingers behind your ear and stroking his thumbs on your jaw. “I don’t, Spice. I’m a fucking mess and that’s why I didn’t come around for so long because if I came back,” Mikey swallows softly, leaning down to your face so that his forehead is pressed against yours, his nose brushing yours and you can’t think about anything other than his lips, his lips that you wanna kiss but can’t, shouldn’t—“I’d wanna kiss you all over again.” 

“Can’t you let me make that decision?” You plead, encircling Mikey’s wrists with your hands as he pulls away, staring at you like you’re a memory of something he’s lost. “I’m right here, Bear,” you remind him, snapping him out of his reverie. He tries to move his hands away but you hold on tighter, pleading him silently to stay, to fix this. 

“Forget me, Spice. For your own sake.” Mikey pulls away, giving you a look full of longing and regret, and leaves you, with just his two bags of groceries and the faint feeling that your heart just got broken. 

~~~

It’s been a month since that night. Time feels like molasses—sticky, slow around you as you wade through everyday life. It feels like you’re being pulled back to him— every meal you eat, you wish it was with him; every time you meet with Sugar, you’re dragged back to the memory of him, the ghost of his presence just hovering behind your shoulder. You’re stuck, but you’re doing your best to make it through. After all, it’s not like you have another option. Mikey’s changing, too. You see it proximally— the way Sugar dims when Mikey’s mentioned, the way that he banned Carmy from The Beef. He’s lashing out, you know it, but you can’t interfere. It’s not your place. 

You’ve been going over to Sugar’s a lot now. She’s got that boy, Pete, who may be a little boring but he anchors her and he treats her right and she loves him. He’s exactly what Sugar has ever needed. It makes you think of your own life, what you need, and if you’ll ever get it. Because the more time that passes, you get more and more convinced that the Mikey-sized hole in your life can’t be filled by anyone else. You can’t think of anyone else who has brought more comfort to your life, who knows you more than anyone, who makes your heart thump with just a smile. Maybe Mikey was it, and now you’re never gonna get that back. 

You’re coming back from Sugar’s, sitting silently in your car with your head resting on the cool glass window as you think of Mikey. You do a lot of that. The ring of your phone snaps you out of your memories, your ringtone singing out in the space of your car as you sit and watch it go. It feels like a grenade, like something ominous so you let it ring, the feeling of something unsettled heavy in your stomach. And right before the call drops, you pick up. 

“Hello?” You ask, the unfamiliar Caller ID throwing you off. There’s a beat of silence and you move to hang up, thinking that it’s just spam. 

“Spice,” Mikey’s voice rings out. His speech is slurred, slow, and that heavy feeling in your gut sits like a boulder when you hear his voice. The sound of it makes tears well up in your eyes, and you grip the leather of your steering wheel to ground yourself. Why did he call? Didn’t he tell you to forget him? “Spice, could you come get me from the police precinct on 9th?” 

“What did you do?” You whisper, hanging up and putting the key back in the ignition to go get him. You hate yourself for doing this, for being at his beck and call as you speed on your way to the station. It’s late, the fluorescents buzzing overhead when you stride into the police station. 

“I’m here to pay bail for Michael Berzatto?” You ask the desk jockey in front of you, already pulling out your wallet. 

“You the one that hung up on him?” He asks, squinting at you as he takes your card and processes it. You nod, just wanting to see Michael already. “Huh. We didn’t think you’d come,” He scoffs. “Anyways, since he listed you as his emergency phone call, we thought you should know; we found this in his coat pocket, has his name on it and everything but just in case.” He hands you a little orange prescription bottle, only a quarter of it left as the pills rattle in the bottle. Painkillers. You tamp down your shock and nod, choosing to stay wordless so you don’t incriminate him. The jockey sighs, standing up and beckoning you to follow him to the Drunk Tank. You spot Mikey immediately, shaggy strands falling before his eyes, beard grown out and that tired, tired look on his face that just pierces your stomach. 

“Michael Berzatto?” The jockey calls out, clearly bored. Michael’s head snaps up and you see that heartbreaking combination of regret and gratefulness in his eyes when he sees you. “You’re free to go,” He sighs, waving Mikey out and shutting the door again. 

“I didn’t think you’d come,” He stammers, uncertain, looking down at you like he doesn’t know what the hell he’s supposed to do now. You nod sharply, unable to find the words as you walk briskly to your car. Mikey trails behind you like a drawn-out shadow, lingering behind you as you throw open the passenger side door and make your way to your own door. 

“Get in,” You call out, buckling your seatbelt and staring straight ahead stubbornly. He follows suit, looking almost out of place as his large frame settles in the passenger seat. You make it to the first traffic light out of the precinct before you manage to say a word, frustration making your eyes sting with tears. 

“Are you abusing painkillers?” You ask him abruptly, dabbing the corners of your eyes with the pads of your fingers as tears escape you. He’s silent next to you, because he knows you know. You look over at him and his jaw is clenched, gaze trained at his hands as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Why didn’t you ask us for help?” You ask him desperately as the silence becomes traitorous. “You’ve got something good going on. You can get better, Mikey,” You plead with him. 

“You think I could ask you for help?” He asks, gripping the side of the door as he looks up at you. “You think I could ask Sugar for help? And be that fuckin’ selfish?” He sniffs, wiping his own tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m like a black hole, Spice. All my fucked-up shit would just pull you in and suck out your good until you’re just like me.” You nod, looking ahead as you continue driving in silence. 

“And you really believe that?” You ask, disbelief lacing your tone. “You think it’s better to go through this alone?” 

“I can get out of this,” he protests, and you don’t know who he’s trying to convince. 

“You don’t have to,” You say quietly. “Michael, please stop pushing us away,” you plead, a sob catching in the back of your throat. He’s scaring you now, the way he’s talking, the danger that he’s in. You just want him safe. 

“I can’t,” Michael admits, tears falling freely from his eyes as he confesses. “I’m not strong enough to stop and there’s no way out for me.” 

“Yes there is!” You shout. “Michael, look at me! There is a way out of this and you deserve that way out! You won’t be hurting anyone if you ask for help. We need you just as much as you need us, Mikey.” You sigh, pulling into your apartment complex finally. 

“I love you, Michael,” You confess, holding his hand and forcing him to look at you. “I have for a long, long time, and that’s not going anywhere. I don’t want anything in return,” You say softly, stroking his knuckles as he closes his eyes, leaning forward to rest his forehead on yours. “Just stay safe with me. For now, okay?” You ask, quietly pulling away, eager to get him into your apartment where you know he’ll be safe. Mikey nods. 

You don’t know if he’ll be safe tomorrow. But for now, he’s safe with you, and that’s all that matters.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Touya "Dabi" Todoroki x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you are given one NYE that you will never forget when Keigo invites your friends over for a game of strip Uno and you become acutely aware of how attractive Dabi is. 

Warnings: Smutty smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Flirting; Stripping; Threesome; Verbal Consent; Mutual Oral; Double Deepthroat; Double Cunnilingus (Hawks & Dabi both eat your pussy); Big Dicks; Spitting; Hair-Pulling; Degradation & Praise; Spitroast; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Throatpie; Dabi Calls You "Baby Doll"; L-Bombs; Aftercare; Loud, Sneaky Sex

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Someone gave me this idea in a comment. Originally, I was just gonna write a smutty holiday chapter for Hawks for NYE, but Hawks AND Dabi?? I couldn't resist. Enjoy & happy holidays! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BIRD BABY DADDY! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

Songs Mentioned in this Chapter:

Umbrella - Rihanna

Can I - Kehlani

Moodswings - Pop Smoke

Touch It (Do It Well Pt. 4) - DVSN

OTW - Jhene Aiko ft. Mila J

Sit On It - Jazmine Sullivan ft. Ari Lennox

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Bonus Chapter: New Year, New Experiences.

Dabi has always been nice-looking, but seeing him now has made you realize how attractive he really is. 

When the fuck did he get this fine? You can't help but wonder this as you nurse your second glass of Moscato of the night, then feel extremely guilty for it. You look down at your drink, wondering if the alcohol is having more of a deeper affect on you than you anticipated. Usually, at this point, you’re giving major “fuck me” eyes to your boyfriend. Which you are…but to your childhood friend as well. 

They both stand in the kitchen you and Keigo share now, whipping up snack plates and cocktails for your NYE celebration. Keigo had suggested you celebrate at your shared crib tonight and invite Rumi and Dabi over too. You had asked what he wanted to do for New Years this year about a week ago after the chaos and festivities of Christmas faded. 

“I really don't wanna go out,” he said, your feet in his lap and his hands expertly rubbing them, massaging out the kinks. He laughed at your bewildered expression. “Shocking, I know, but after Christmas, I’m just not feelin’ like bein’ out in the streets and around too many people…or spendin’ money.” And he did go all out for Christmas, gifting you at least $1k in gifts and presenting all of his employees and interns at his agency with gift cards (and two weeks off for Christmas and New Years). 

“But since you asked, I just wanna stay in and invite the gang over for a private celebration…have food, drink, games…is that okay with you?” Before you could even reply, he immediately talked over you, softening the blow that he was sure he made. “We can still go out if you want. I wouldn’t wanna keep you cooped up in here if you–“ 

You stop him by pressing a finger to his plump lips. “Keigo,” you interrupt him. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll call Rumi and Dabi right now to see if they wanna join us.” His wide, golden eyes stared at you for a moment in shock before softening, relieved that you weren’t upset. So you hit up Rumi who was a definite yes and Dabi to see if he had enough free time to come out for the night. 

“Only if I can make my famous drinks,” he said in his raspy, chainsmoker voice. “The cinnamon fireballs. I’ll send you the recipe so you can grab the shit for it.” You groaned over the phone, already envisioning the chaos in store for you. Dabi swears he can mix drinks like a bartending pro. “Okay, but just don’t blow up my kitchen,” you warned. 

My kitchen. You are still getting used to calling all of the things in Keigo’s penthouse yours, but sometimes, it just comes out naturally: my kitchen; my living room; my bed. Shortly after the Billboard Event, you moved into Keigo’s home, albeit secretly. You had to pay the moving men double to move your shit out of Rumi’s place at night in order to avoid paparazzi, but in a week, you were settled. Though Rumi misses you, she also doesn’t mind the privacy, especially when she's able to bring someone home and have as much loud sex as she wants. 

Though almost a month has passed since you moved in with Keigo, you’re still adjusting to this new way of life, especially since you’re not just a roomie to Keigo. You’re his girlfriend. His partner. Every time you wake up next to him and see the sun shine against his hair and long eyelashes, you are reminded of this. It’s like the fact remerges in your brain every single morning despite nothing changing. And you hope it never does. 

“The snacks are almost done!” Keigo happily calls into the living room where you and Rumi sit. “You’re never gonna wanna leave when you get a taste of these babies.” Rumi rolls her eyes at you, twirling a lock of her hair. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she scoffs. Her silvery, long hair is tied up in a high ponytail while she adorns a Christmas sweater and booty shorts that make her muscular, firm ass look extra delicious and envious. 

Opposite to her cozy, lived-in look, you’re wearing Keigo’s oversized cashmere sweater that looks like a dress on you and hip-hugging skinny jeans. You also slathered on some lip gloss and nail polish to look presentable tonight, at least wanting to feel pretty with company around. “The fireballs are almost done too,” Dabi announces. “Rumi, you still like extra tequila in yours?” Rumi gives him a look which makes him laugh. “Y/N, you want one too?” he curiously asks. 

You take a look at the kitchen counter through the threshold of the kitchen, finding a huge bottle of tequila open and cinnamon dusting the countertop. “I’m good with Moscato, thanks,” you say. “I’m not tryin’ to burn my tonsils out.” Dabi shrugs a shoulder, snorting. “Suit yourself, but my stuff is good. I’d even make it lighter for you.” 

Keigo cackles as he moves behind his friend, kicking him in the ankle as he does. “Bitch, you don’t know how to make any drink light!”

Dabi rolls his eyes and turns back around to finish the drinks, his arms and back muscles flexing under his black tee that seems to stick to his upper body something sinful. You thought this when he first arrived at your front door thirty minutes ago after getting dropped off by his assigned guard for the night. “Welcome!” you cheerfully greeted him, only for your voice to die in your throat once you got a look at him. 

Looking at him now, you become highly aware of how attractive he’s gotten since he’s been in prison. His lean, scrawny body as a kid and teen have gone away, now replaced with muscle like hard grant though he still has that leanness to him that makes him appear skinny under his clothes. But anyone who saw how tight his shirt is would realize that they’ve been duped. He has obviously been working out to build such muscle and tone his body, no doubt using his time to focus on his health. 

And he looks good. Especially with his snow-white hair, which he has opted to keep instead of his black hair, that makes his crystal blue eyes pop. Every time he looks at you, you feel like he is stealing the very breath out of you…and it’s fucking weird.

Where did this attraction come from? Though you’ve always known your friend is cute, you’ve never been attracted to Dabi. Even the one time you played Spin the Bottle back in middle school and you were dared to kiss by Keigo and Rumi, nothing came from that. It was a stupid, little kid thing that happened after school behind the building, in the setting spring sun. After, you decided you worked better as friends which he agreed with and since then, you’ve been nothing but friends. Yet there you were, staring him down as he stood at the door, waiting for you to let him in. 

He raised his pierced eyebrow at you and your speechlessness. “Well?” he asks. “You gonna let me in or what?” Realizing you were standing at the door like a moron, you quickly let him in, your face hot. He gave you a weird look as he shimmied into the room, immediately bombarded by the Bunny Hero. “Dabi, you’re here!” Rumi squeals, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. “Damn, what have you been eatin’, man? You’re bigger than me now!” 

Dabi chuckled, squeezing her tight before yanking on her ears, making her shriek. You watched, still confused as to what just happened. “Dabi’s here?” Keigo called from the kitchen. “Tell him to come in here and help me get these veggies ready!” Dabi clucked his tongue, giving you a sly side eye. “Only five seconds in and he’s already fucking up,” he chuckles. “You picked a good one, doll.” 

And you did. You know you did. Keigo is the best boyfriend and sexiest man in the world…and yet here you are, staring down his best friend. Your best friend. Even now as you sip your wine, you can’t understand it. Are you just horny?

Since the holiday season, you’ve been more stressed and extremely horny lately, leading you and Keigo to try new things in the bedroom. It’s been an interesting and exciting adventure for you both. Handcuffs and rope; sensory and roleplaying; all kinds of kinky shit that has led to conversations about more things to try…and things that you’ll keep private for now. Things that you are interested in that you won’t dare tell Keigo right now. With how possessive he is, he just wouldn’t go along with it and you wouldn’t make him. So you’ve kept it to yourself, instead fantasizing and wondering all of those “what ifs”. 

You’re so deep in your troubling thoughts that you barely see Keigo saunter into the room in his cute apron with a tray of appetizers: homemade fried cauliflower bites, cheesesteak egg rolls, and a gorgeous veggie plate of orange carrots, green celery, and bright red tomatoes with all kinds of dipping sauces in the middle. “Wow, this looks amazing, babe,” you coo. “You really went all out for us tonight.” Keigo smiles proudly as he lowers the food down on the coffee table. “Oh, that’s not even the best part, baby bird,” he chuckles. 

Dabi then emerges from the kitchen carrying a tray of mugs filled with his fireballs and cinnamon sticks. He lowers the tray down and gives Keigo a smirk as the winged pro pulls out a bag of weed and a game of Uno. You and Rumi immediately abrupt into laughter, knowing exactly what is in store for tonight. “It’s almost 2024!” Keigo chuckles, popping a carrot into his mouth. "Might as well celebrate to the fullest.” 

“Strip Uno,” Rumi cackles, nudging you. “Y/N, your man is one horny motherfucker. Are you treating him right or does he have something to tell us?” You roll your eyes as you flush in Keigo's sweater. “Shut up,” you giggle. “And you know damn well that I treat Keigo very well.” You and he share a secretive smile, one that immediately propels you into memories of endless nights and days of good ass sex. 

Rumi makes a disgusted face, hopping away from you to the other end of the couch. “Ugh, don’t even remind me. I’m so tired of seeing you two suck faces when we’re out.” While Dabi snorts into his drink, Keigo pulls on one of Rumi’s ears. “Ooooh, someone’s jealous,” he sing-songs. “I always knew you wanted this sexy ass, cotton tail.” You swear, you’ve never seen Rumi look so uncomfortable in her life and it makes you nearly choke on your Moscato laughing. 

You help Keigo and Dabi move the coffee table to the middle of the floor with your snacks, drinks, and game in tow while Rumi hooks her 2000s hits playlist up to the TV. Soon, the sound of Rihanna’s “Umbrella” fills the living room space. After everything it set up, you sit down on the floor across from Rumi while Dabi takes your left and Keigo takes your right. “Okay, so before we start, I wanna propose a toast,” Keigo happily states, raising his mug. You three groan exhaustively and he pulls the cutest pout. “C’mooon, this is one of the only times in weeks we’ve all been together since the Billboard Event!” 

Though indifferent to the idea, Rumi raises her mug while you raise your glass of Moscato. Dabi notices, his expression albeit blank. “You sure you don’t want none of this?” he asks, nodding at his drink. Then a sly smirk quirks onto his lips. “Or is it ‘cause you can’t handle it?” he teases, ever the asshole. Usually, his teasing doesn’t bother you, but tonight, it does. Along with the way his voice dips into a deeper, raspier tone when he says it. 

You give him a look to hide your reaction, daring him to try you. “Dabi, you know I can’t handle it. You make drinks like you’re trying to poison people.” He shrugs a shoulder though he is still smirking. “Fair point, but a sip won’t hurt.”

He passes a mug to you but doesn’t hand it to you. His blue eyes flick from the drink to you, patiently waiting for you to take a sip. It’s as if he’s silently asking you, “Do you trust me?” Or maybe the Moscato is just speaking to you at this point. “Toast!” Keigo shouts, interrupting your thoughts. “To a new year of new experiences and new journeys with old friends.” 

He smiles at each you fondly, his golden eyes twinkling with utter joy. Deciding quickly, you take Dabi’s drink and hold it up with the others. “Cheers!” you all shout before downing Dabi’s drink. It’s only a sip, but it’s enough to taste the strong tequila and sweet cinnamon mixed in it. Though your throat burns as it goes down, the sweetness is addicting. Dabi looks proud as you lower the mug down. “See?” he murmurs. “Nothing you couldn’t handle.” You resist the urge to think of something else besides the drink. 

“Uno time!” Rumi bellows, taking the cards to shuffle while Dabi begins rolling a blunt to pass between you four. Keigo takes a seat next to you, his eyes already set dead on you. “Come sit close to me, baby bird,” he coos, wrapping an arm around your lower back. “You look so fuckin’ cute tonight. I can’t keep my eyes off of you, even for the game.”

You do as he requests, snuggling in close despite being in your friends’ company, loving how he smells so much like cinnamon and the brown sugar soap you got him for Christmas. You also bought him Burberry cologne which he has sprayed on his skin, making him absolutely irresistible to you. Add in the black cashmere sweater and sweats that hide one of your favorite parts of him, and you’re ready to use him as a seat. 

“Well, you’d better,” Dabi grumbles, glaring at both of you. “Nobody’s tryin’ to see you two eye fuck for the next few hours.” Keigo presses a finger to your cheek, turning your head to face him. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous that I’ve got such a gorgeous woman to cuddle up with at night and all he’s got is a pillow.”

You put a hand on his arm and squeeze, shaking your head in warning. Too far. But Dabi isn’t bothered by the jab, simply sprinkling marijuana into a piece of paper. “You’d be surprised how many visitors I get who wanna replace that pillow,” he retorts. “I get a lot of fan mail too…mostly nudes.” 

You give a big, ugly cackle at this. “Oh, I believe it,” Rumi snickers. “Plenty of people are attracted to villains, bad boys, and emotionally damaged men with tattoos and piercings.” She gives Dabi a shit-eating grin while he pegs a carrot at her, making you and Keigo crack up.

You go to pick out a cauliflower from the veggie plate, but accidentally brush your fingers against Dabi’s reaching for the same thing. “Oh, sorry!” you squeak, quickly snatching your hand back. Your friend barely bats an eyelash. “Take it,” he says carelessly. “No big deal. I’m still rollin’ up anyway.” 

You do so, slowly reaching for a cauliflower and dipping into the ranch dressing. Your movements are robotic, mechanical, as you chew and swallow, feeling Dabi’s eyes on you. You can tell he wants to ask, but he doesn’t and you find yourself drinking some more of his drink to push away your nagging thoughts. Fortunately, Rumi interrupts the awkward moment. “Game time!” she shouts. “I’ll deal and then we can start. Everybody know and remember the rules of strip Uno?” You each nod having played this game dozens of times (mostly tipsy or high). It usually ends in either someone halfway naked. 

After downing the rest of your Moscato, you feel looser, you go first and put a red card down. The turns go right (Keigo, Rumi, Dabi) before settling on you again when the color is changed to yellow. You take a card and read it, groaning at the instructions. “Oooh, first loser down!” Rumi giggles, taking Dabi’s finished blunt from him. “Read it to us, babe.” Keigo tries to look over your shoulder, but you shoo him away. “Take six cards or strip off your shirt,” you read. “Well, I don’t wanna take six cards, so…” You feel yourself stripping off Keigo's sweater to reveal your lacy red bra underneath. 

You feel warm under Keigo and Dabi’s gazes, one of which you can feel burning into you though you don’t look. “Oooh, sexy,” Rumi chuckles, puffing on her blunt. “Now it’s your turn, Keigo.” She passes the blunt back to Dabi who takes a hit, smoke billowing from his lips and nostrils in clouds. His eyes are blue slits that regard yours as you glance at him from the corner of your eye. Keigo takes his turn, putting down yellow, before Rumi takes hers. “Take eight cards or tell the person beside you to take off their shirt,” she reads. She gives Dabi a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Dabi, but…” 

Keigo cackles hysterically while Dabi rolls his eyes, passing his blunt to you. You don’t know why but you take a hit, already feeling the affects of the alcohol mingle with the weed. You feel lighter and more comfortable. “You guys are fuckin’ whores,” he growls but he can't hide his smile as he stands up to strip for you and your friends. You turn away from him just as he goes to untuck his shirt, instead turning all of your attention to your boo. “Aww, I was hoping you’d pick a card,” you playfully whine, snugging into Keigo's arm. 

You not-so-innocently push your breasts against his forearm, catching his attention. “You tryna get me to strip?” he chuckles, raising a brow at you. “Maybe later and then it’ll be all for you. Just be glad we’re not alone ‘cause this pretty bra would be off by now.” He glides a finger down the strap of your bra to one of the cups, staring intensely at the lace. “If you two are gonna do that, get a fuckin’ room,” Dabi interrupts. 

You turn back to him and wish you didn’t: he stands before you in all of his semi-nakedness, jeans sagging low, bare skin and lean, inked muscle on display. “Daaaamn, you did get cut, Dabi!” Rumi hollers. “Just look at this fuckin’ guy!” 

And you are. Your eyes roam over his toned abs and pectorals where you catch two nipple rings hanging from his pink nipples. His arms and right side are covered in tattoos along with his collarbone which holds his little brother’s (Shoto) name. You know that all of his siblings’ and mother’s name are tattooed on him; just not his father. Realizing how long you’ve been staring, you look away, instead staring down at the table. “Shit, I can beat that,” Keigo scoffs. “Just you wait.” 

After twenty minutes of playing and the first round being completed, Keigo successfully stripped off his shirt and shoes before hurrying to the bathroom because of the alcohol. Meanwhile, Dabi is washing dishes and Rumi is scrolling through her phone and smoking on the last of the blunt, waiting for Keigo to come back so you can continue. You, luckily, only stripped off your top for the first round and quickly throw it back on before taking your glasses to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna go put these in the sink,” you announce and Rumi only hums in response. When you walk into the kitchen, you are met with Dabi’s muscular back and a large, snake-like dragon snaking from his lower back and curling up the back of his right forearm. It moves and flexes whenever his arms move, making his back muscles bulge. 

Finding your voice, you greet him. “Hey, just came in to wash these.” He turns to look at you over his shoulder before nodding at the soapy, hot water in the sink. “Put ‘em over here; I’ve got it.” You do so, lowering the glasses on the counter for him to wash. You press your back against the counter’s edge, watching him. Silence swells around you, but this one isn’t comfortable; it’s awkward and heated, filled with tension. “It’s really good to see you, y’know,” you chirp, trying to ease the tension. “I was so upset you couldn’t make it for Christmas.” 

Dabi puts a tray on the drying rack, focused yet still answering you. “Yeah, my CO was on my ass about that fight I had, but I wasn’t gonna miss this chance to smoke a good blunt and hang with you losers. Everyone seems to be so scared about my new body, includin’ you.” His blue eyes side-eye you, making your stomach flip. “I’m not!” you squeak. “It’s just a shock seeing you look so…” Sexy. “Big,” you decide. “But whatever trainer you got in prison, give them my number.” 

He chuckles at this, the deep rumble making something swirl inside your gut. He then goes back to doing what he was doing, but only for a few seconds, until he speaks again. “What?” he finally asks. You blink at him. “What?” you dumbly parrot. He turns to you fully, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “I can feel you starin’ mad hard at me, Y/N. You’re not discreet in the slightest.” Again, you feel hot in your sweater with shame. At this rate, you may as well strip and throw yourself at him with how much you’re staring at him. 

“Is that a new tattoo?” you tentatively ask, pointing at the dragon. “I don’t remember seeing that before.” Dabi hums out a yes as he dunks a mug into the soapy water. “Had it done a month ago durin’ one of my free days when I didn’t visit you or Hawks. It hurt like a bitch, but it looks decent, don’t it?” You slowly nod, admiring the way the dark green scales on the dragon compliment his skin. It reminds you so much of the dragon from the ‘Spirited Away’ movie, just darker. “It’s…beautiful,” you softly say, more to yourself than to him. And before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out to drag your fingers down Dabi’s spine, making his body clench. “S-Sorry!” you stutter, snatching your hand away. “I should’ve asked to–“ 

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, but still looks perplexed. He looks as if he hasn’t been touched in years and isn’t sure how to handle it. But he shocks you when he turns his back to face you, giving you full advantage of his tattoo. “Touch it,” he encourages. “Y/N, it’s just me.” Right. This is just Touya Todoroki. Your friend since childhood. The same guy that was afraid of public pools, eats charred marshmallows, and loves his steak well-done. The friend you’ve been dying to get back since he joined LOV and have missed since he went to prison. And yet, looking at him now and feeling his warm skin under your fingertips when you touch him, you don’t see him as any of that. You see him much differently. 

You run your hand over his back, feeling his muscles flex and his warm skin. He stands there, not speaking or moving, letting you touch him. It’s so intimate. So sensual. When you pull away, he finally turns to face you, his expression blank and eyes intense. His hand then moves to lightly touch your wrist, sending currents of electricity through you. “Yoooo!” Keigo’s call suddenly drifts in the kitchen, making you flinch and jump away from Dabi’s touch. He pokes his head into the kitchen, grinning. “I’m back!” he announces. “We ready for another round or what?” 

Dabi smirks at his friend as if nothing happened. And nothing did…right? “Sure,” he replies. “Just let me pour us some shots first.” Keigo hums delightedly, practically floating into the kitchen. “Lemme help you. Baby, pass me that bag of lemons and limes in the fridge, please?” You do so, your hands trembling somewhat as you open the fridge and hand the bags of fruit to your boyfriend. “Thank you, darlin’,” he coos, winking at you. “Now go and sit down! Let your men take care of you.” 

Your men. You can’t help but stay stuck on that as you quickly walk out of the kitchen, not once looking at Dabi. Rumi is still in the same position you left her in, laying on the floor on her phone. You nervously pick at a loose thread on your skinny jeans, keeping your voice low to avoid the guys hearing. “Rumi?” you softly question.

She looks up from her phone, blinking. “Hm?” she questionably hums. You sit down next to her, folding your knees under you. “Does Dabi seem…different…to you tonight?” you carefully ask, your words slow and deliberate, like you’re carefully picking each word like they are fruit. 

Rumi stares at you, confused. “Uh…other than his new set of muscles and the tattoo, no.” She squints at you suspiciously, making you hot like a spotlight is on you now. “Why? Do you think they’re something different about him?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure of how to answer. But this is Rumi! Your girl and confidant. She’d never judge you for anything. “He just seems more…attractive, I guess,” you shyly murmur.

She barely bats an eye. In fact, she smiles. “I figured there was a reason you were staring at him so hard tonight,” she chuckles, earning you a shocked look. “What, you thought I didn’t notice?” At the sight of your panic, she rubs your back. “Relax, girly. Keigo didn’t notice anything. That bird is in his fucking world tonight.” 

Oh, yes, Keigo. Your boyfriend. Your very happy, amazing, wonderful boyfriend who is oh-so overjoyed that you’re all together here tonight. “God, I’m so stupid!” you groan, putting your head in your hands. “What am I doing? Here I am with one of the sexiest men in Japan and an amazing boyfriend, and yet, I’m eye-fucking our childhood friend!” 

“Well, to be fair, you did say you wanted to try to do other things with Keigo in the bedroom,” Rumi says as she puffs on her blunt. “You remember tellin’ me about that threesome kink of yours? If you don’t, I’d understand. You were downing those cocktails like they were water.” You groan embarrassingly because yes, you do remember that night: it was a month ago before Thanksgiving when the moon was full, the night was young, and you were full of drinks during girls’ night. There, you spilled to Rumi, Nemuri, and Yu about your secret threesome kink and wanting so badly to ask Keigo to participate in one. 

You can't help the way you get so wet at the thought of having two men please you or being one of the people to please them. You’ve had this fantasy for a while, dreaming of Keigo and another sexy, mystery man occupying your bed, hands and mouths all over you, two cocks inside you. But you’ve never brought it to Keigo’s attention. “Unfortunately, yes,” you sigh, “but that doesn’t mean I should be eyeing my own best friend!” You feel like crying, mostly because of the alcohol. “I feel like a slut,” you whimper. “And not in a good way.” 

Noticing your internal fight, Rumi quickly steps in to ease your shitty feelings. “Personally, I don’t see what the big deal is. You just stared at the guy! You didn’t try to suck his dick or anything.” You flinch at her words, not wanting to picture that. “But if it’s really got your panties in a twist, just pull Keigo to the side and talk about it. Knowing his freak ass, he’ll probably be okay with it. He’d probably even suggest a threesome himself.” She gives you a sly smirk to which you roll your eyes at. “No way,” you scoff in disbelief. 

“Mark my words,” she giggles. “Personally, I approve of this sluttiness in you, girl. I think you should fuck both of them to really end this year with a bang.” You could've strangled her right then. “You’re not helping!” you growl, swatting her hand away as she cackles. “Not helping with what?” Keigo asks, making you squeak in surprise. You turn, seeing him and Dabi standing behind you carrying a tray of tequila shots. “U-Uh, with my cards!” you quickly reply. “She won’t show me how to shuffle ‘em.” 

You turn to Rumi with a glare, making her crack up even more. 

After almost two hours of playing, stripping, drinking, smoking, and shooting the shit, things start to finally wind down an hour before midnight. Rumi is fast asleep on the couch, snuggled into her pillow and softly snoring, while Dabi has ventured outside to have a smoke. He sits in the cold December air in only his jeans and socks. You don’t ask him if he’s cold, knowing he’ll refuse his shirt or a blanket. You take it upon yourself to clean up before tomorrow morning, washing dishes and wiping down the counters. You plan on making a big New Year’s Day breakfast for your friends––blueberry pancakes, eggs, and plenty of mimosas. 

You’re just about to rinse the soap off of your hands in the sink when you suddenly feel two arms slink around your waist and a very hard chest press into your back. Keigo's scent of cinnamon and Burberry cologne enchants your nostrils. “There you are, baby bird,” he murmurs. “Where’d you run off to?” You smile, pressing back into him. “Just to clean up so we don’t have to worry about it in the morning.” You turn around in his arms, noticing his hooded gaze and lopsided smirk. “Somebody’s drunk,” you giggle. 

He hums in agreement and presses his hips into you where you feel a very noticeable hard-on. “And very, very hard for you,” he softly growls in your ear. “I know you can feel me pressin’ up against you right now.” And you can; it’s impossible not to. Immediately, your body temperature rises and you feel a tingle between your legs. His hands move under his sweater draped over your body and glide up and down your sides, his fingertips gliding against your skin. He whistles as he does so, somehow making that tingling sensation even more intense. “You have the sexiest body, baby, I swear,” he sighs. “I’m so fuckin’ lucky. You make me so horny every time I see you, but without the clothes? That’s even better!” 

His compliment makes you bashfully giggle, always loving to receive such love and admiration from your man. “Thank you, baby,” you shyly reply. “The feeling is mutual.” You stroke your hands up his naked chest as he kisses you, playfully and passionately. He begins to walk forward, pushing you against the counter and trapping you between it and him. You’re now at his total mercy, his mouth and hands all over you, the taste of wine and cinnamon on his tongue as he swirls it with yours. Soft moans mingle in the air between you, only heard by your and his ears alone…though soon, if you keep this up, someone may become privy to what’s happening in the kitchen just a few steps from them in the living room. 

Reading your mind, Keigo pulls away and runs a thumb over your bottom lip. “Let’s go upstairs,” he says, a suggestive smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t wanna waste this moment. Don’t worry; Rumi is dead on our couch and Dabi is on the balcony. They won’t hear a thing.”

You believe the part about Rumi after being her roomie for so long, but Dabi? What if he does hear you? You wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable enough to leave. But with the way Keigo is giving you such a heated stare, you can’t resist. So you go with him, listening to your pussy instead of your head. You let him steal you away and lead you upstairs to your shared bedroom by your hand, softly giggling to each other as you walk past Rumi sound asleep. 

As soon as you’re inside the room, alone at last, Keigo shuts the door behind him and uses his wings to wrap around you. He drags you into his body and arms, crushing his lips to yours in another passionate kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck and his wrap around your waist, both of you locked together in an embrace as you kiss, and kiss, and kiss. The more you do, the wetter you get until your body is begging for more. Keigo’s lips leave yours to busy on your neck.

“I can’t get over how sexy you are,” he murmurs. “I would’ve rathered you strip for me instead of our friends.” He pauses for a moment, pulling away to stare at you, befuddled. Then a secretive smile pulls at his lips. 

“Actually, you can do that for me now,” he chuckles and pulls himself away from you. You resist the urge to follow him, instead staring at him across the room, burning up for him.

“Y’see, baby, I feel like since the holidays, we’ve barely had much time to be together, just you and I,” he lustfully explains. “But now, here we are alone, and I wanna take advantage of it. So I’m gonna sit here”–he pauses to sit on the bench at the foot of your king-sized bed, smirking–“and you’re gonna strip for me.” He takes his phone and plays a song for you––“Can I” by Kehlani––and leans back, legs spread. 

He doesn’t explain anything more to you. Neither one of you talk. The only sounds are of the TV softly playing from downstairs and the music playing on his phone. You feel nervous, the alcohol’s magic beginning to ware off. But something in the way Keigo stares you down has you moving, giving him exactly what he wants. You let the music take control of your body, letting your hips sway and your fingers play with the edges of Keigo's sweater. You slowly, tantalizingly, slip it up your body to reveal your bra and discard it. Then off comes your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping your fly before sloooowly dragging it down your legs to reveal your naked thighs and lace panties. 

You can practically hear Keigo salivating at the sight of you as you twirl for him, bending over and moving your ass in his face. You flip your hair and look over your shoulder, becoming the woman he is seeking tonight: a vixen. A slut. Because that’s all you want to be tonight for him too. Turning around, you walk over to him, relishing his gaze upon you, and grasp his shoulders before hooking one leg over his lap. You take a seat and begin to grind yourself into his lap, causing your knee to brush against his crotch. He groans softly as your knee caresses his hardened cock, his hands gripping your hips. “Fuck, baby,” he groans. “That feels so good.” 

You feel the same, biting your lip at the pleasurable sensations of his thigh rubbing against your pantyliner. “I think it’d feel even better with these off,” you giggle, tugging at his shirt. You stare down at him through your lashes, a sexy smile pulling at your lips. “Don’t you wanna join me?” You’ve never seen Keigo move so fast before, even while fighting villains. Instantly, his shirt is off and you help him out of his pants until is just in his briefs. He then hooks his hands under your ass and hikes you up, your arms and legs wrapping around him instinctively. 

Then you’re soaring through the air and bouncing onto the mattress, the air leaving your lungs. “Get your pretty ass up there,” he grunts, grinning at the sound of your laughter.

He swoops down onto you, pressing a kiss to your lips as his chain necklaces press against your bosom, cold metal against heated skin. He pulls away to press kisses down your legs and thighs, prying them open to get a good look at what lies in between. He hums appreciatively at your scent and the sight of red against your brown skin and juicy thighs.

“Mmm, someone’s excited,” he chuckles. He glides one finger over your panty line, soaked through. You moan at the slight contact, your toes curling. “Whatchu want me to do?” he teasingly asks, smirking down at you. 

He begins to rub a thumb over your clit, causing your panties to become wetter and more uncomfortable.

“Kei,” you whimper. “Please.” Keigo’s eyes grow darker, his wings fluffier. “That’s not what I asked,” he teasingly yet firmly states. “C’mon, mama, give me your words. Tell me what you want Daddy to do.” He then ducks down to press an open-mouthed kiss to your clit, nearly making you jump straight out of your skin.

“Taste me,” you whisper. “Put this pussy in your mouth. Please, Keigo, I’m begging y–!” Before you can finish, your boyfriend is already pulling down your panties, pressing his tongue against your clit and sucking gently on the little bundle of nerves. 

Keigo is a certified master at eating pussy. He puts his whole mouth on it, in it, swirling his tongue and flicking it just right against your clit. He holds you open, spreading your thighs apart as he laps at your cunt and even your asshole (because he’s also an ass man). He eats up all of your holes, eagerly licking, sucking, and lapping at them until you’re moaning, whimpering, gasping for air. You see stars behind your eyelids and your body twists against the comforter neatly spread across the bed. Your hands grasp his golden strands of hair as you feel your first orgasm quickly dawning, rising to reach its peak.

You can’t keep quiet––your sounds of utter pleasure release out of you, bouncing off of the walls. “F-Fuck, Keigo!” you sob, not even realizing how loud you are. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s so good! I’m gonna cum, baby! I’m gonna cum! I’m…I’m–“ 

Knock, knock. A gasp erupts from you as your heartbeat accelerates at the sound of the bedroom door. “Yeah?” Keigo asks, not even sounding scared or impatient. The door opens and there appears Dabi. He doesn’t even blink at the fact that you’re semi-naked. “If you two were tryin’ to be secretive, you’re not doin’ a good job at all,” he blandly says. “Y'all are loud as fuck. I could hear you all the way downstairs.” 

You try to squirm away, but Keigo holds you still, his hands still pinning your thighs open. “Oh, forreal?” he laughs as if this whole thing is funny. “Sorry, man. It’s just been a while for us.” He gazes down at you before looking back at Dabi, smirking. “Well, since you’re here, you wanna join in or just watch?” You stare at your boyfriend like he just lost his last few braincells. “Keigo, what the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss. “Are you crazy?! Why would you even ask him that?!” 

“I actually wouldn’t mind either,” Dabi announces, shocking and confusing you even further. His head cocks to the side, looking at your spread open pussy from another angle. “Seein’ her spread out like this is a definite treat…though I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want a taste either.” His eyes, blue and intense, tick up to meet yours, nearly stopping your heart. “And you’d like that too, wouldn’t you, doll?” 

You’re in such shock that if it isn’t for the eye contact, you wouldn’t realize he is talking to you. This is just too weird. You feel like you’re dreaming, like none of this is real. The two begin to chuckle lightly at your reaction, as if this is some inside joke to them…is it? “Baby, it’s okay,” Keigo chuckles, gently stroking your stomach. “Relax. Dabi is here for a reason.” You stare at your boyfriend, eyes wide and absolutely speechless. 

“I’ve been noticing tonight how much you’ve been eyeing him, and that’s okay,” Keigo further explains. “He happens to have been doing the same thing, haven’t you, D?” 

Your eyes widen even more as Dabi steps into the room, shutting the door behind him, wearing an expression close to lust. “He knows all about us wanting to spice things up more in the bedroom, even suggesting ways to excite you.” A smirk grows on Keigo’s face, one that makes you scared. “I also let him in on your little secret.”

He and Dabi share a look and you instantly know what he means. ‘Oh, no,’ you think, horrified. ‘He knows. How could he know?’ 

Keigo is happy to explain it to you. “You happened to have left your browser open on your phone one morning when you took a shower.” A twinkle appears in his golden irises. “Imagine my shock when I saw a video of a girl clearly getting fucked silly by two dudes.” Heat immediately envelopes you and you hide your face in your hands. “Baby, don’t be embarrassed!” he laughs. “I think it’s hot, but I can see why you didn't tell me. I can be very possessive, can’t I?” 

You simply look up at him, not responding, but you don’t have to. You both know he is. He’ll glare down any man who even looks your way when you’re out and about on the street. Which is why it’s so shocking to you that he would agree to share you with a whole other man. “Well, I took some time to think it over and I realized that the idea of watchin’ you suckin’ another man’s cock made me cum a lot harder than I ever have before one night.”

He smirks at you, loving the way you sharply inhale at the thought. “So I ran it by Dabi and chose him as he is the only person I trust enough to touch you and take care of my girl the way I can.” He sits back on his hands, staring down at you with utter care and affection. “But the ball is in your court, baby bird. You don’t have to say yes if this is too weird or too uncomfortable for you. Even if you say yes, you can always say no.” 

Then it’s Dabi’s turn to be caring and affectionate. “I won’t touch you until you ask me, doll,” he firmly says. “Like the bird brain said, this is your decision to make. And before you ask, I don't think this will fuck up our friendship in the slightest. I’ve always had a thing for you, especially after that kiss we had with that stupid bottle game.” You blink at him, suddenly dizzy.

“But you’re too pure to deal with my crazy ass,” he chuckles. “So I figured Hawks would be a better fit for you, and he is.” His blue eyes sparkle with something––love? Lust?––that nearly steals your breath away. “But I can still fuck you and show you how much I value you.” His hand moves to gently settle on your thigh, never moving farther than that. “Is that okay?” he asks in a voice so unlike his own. It is very soft and careful as if you are a spooked animal he is trying to calm. 

Is that okay? They could simply take you right here, right now, but they don’t. Neither one of them even touches you, letting you give them the green light. You can hardly contain yourself, feeling so aroused and oh-so loved that you could burst. So you sit up and toss your arms around Dabi, immediately pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. A surprised moan leaves his lips, shocked at your boldness, before he melts into the kiss and lets his hands settle on your waist.

When you pull away, both of you are panting heavily and overcome with need. “Fuck me,” you whisper. You turn to Keigo, seeing that he is just as needy as you are. “Both of you. Right now.” 

Your boys don’t need to be told twice. Dabi immediately goes back to kissing you stupid while Keigo presses kisses and forms love bites on your neck, stealing silent gasps and whimpers away from your mouth and into Dabi’s as he does. Dabi’s and your tongues swirl together, cold against hot, especially when you feel the nub of something cold and steely attached to his tongue.

You pull away, perplexed, and he gives a sexy, throaty chuckle before spitting his tongue out at you. There, you see a black studded piercing embedded into the pink muscle. You nearly cum right there. “Please,” you whimper as Dabi begins to kiss down your neck and breasts. “Fuck me.” You roll your hips into Dabi’s, earning a throaty groan in response. 

“So eager, right?” Keigo chuckles, grinning at Dabi. “Not yet, love dove. First, Dabi needs to have a chance to play with you. Get that bra off of her, D.” He flicks his chin at his friend, impatient. Dabi doesn’t need any other pushing. He unhooks your bra from the front, letting the cups fall free to reveal your gorgeous breasts and hardened nipples. The two men groan at the sight of them––the prettiest, ripest fruit they’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing and tasting. Each attach their lips to your nipples, hungrily lapping and licking at the hardened peaks of your nipples. 

Keigo watches your face, transfixed by the way your pretty features contort in pleasure at the feeling of two mouths on your sensitive nipples. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs. His compliment makes you wetter than before and soon, you can’t control yourself. Your hands grasp their scalps, running through their hair, and your toes curl as the pleasure travels downward to your pussy. “Kei,” you whimper. “T-Touya.” The white-haired stud softly growls at his birth name being uttered from your lips, leading him to grip your ass as he continues to suck at your nipple. 

Impatient, you go to grasp their cocks in their pants, but Keigo moves your hands away. “Uh-uh, mama,” he chuckles, giving you a lopsided smirk. “We’ve first gotta play with this gorgeous pussy. You okay with sharing her kitty, D?” 

Dabi looks like he was waiting for Keigo to mention something about your cunt. He pulls away from your nipple, a string of saliva connecting to his bottom lip. “Long as I get to make her cum, I’m down.” His eyes cut away from staring deep into yours to glare at Keigo. “Just don't get in my fuckin’ way and we won’t have a problem.” Keigo only laughs and pats the space on the mattress beside you. “On your knees, baby. Face down, ass up.”

Helpless to resist their hungered stares, you do as your man orders and position yourself on your knees with your ass hiked up in the air, right in your friend’s face. You barely have time to feel embarrassed before a hand connects to your asscheek. Smack! You whine at the sharp sting. “Sorry,” Keigo sniggers. “My hand slipped.” 

Dabi groans at your reaction, visibly turned on by you. You. “I knew she liked it rough,” he comments, his voice strained. “Mind if I try?” Keigo must obviously give him the go because you feel his hand, rougher from his burn scars, slap your ass too. Smack! You gasp, taken aback by the bite of pain…and the pleasure that comes with it. 

“Shiiit, that was nothing,” Keigo tuts. “Put some force in it, Dabs.” Smack! Keigo does it this time, putting more force into his hit just to spite Dabi. You clench your teeth at the sting, feeling like your ass is on fire. “Like that?” Dabi blandly asks, scoffing. “You barely made it jiggle.”

Smack! Smack! Smack! The two smack your ass like they’re landlords and your ass is a tenant who owes them rent money. They relish the sweet gasps and whines that leave your mouth with each assault on your asscheeks, damn near leaving handprints in their wake. They love how much you love this, the little masochist you are. 

Finally, when you’re a panting mess on the bed, Keigo stops the punishment. “That’s enough for now. Her poor pussy can't take much more.” His finger lightly brushes against your oozing, gushing pussy who always betrays you as a slut. “Let’s see whose tongue makes you cum the hardest,” Dabi softly growls. “But I’ll warn you, baby doll: this tongue piercing always seems to make pussies cum before they’re ready.” He chuckle is a promise to you that has your heart pounding and clit jumping in excitement. 

And boy, is it a promise. Once your panties are off, his tongue touches your clit and slides inside your pussy. And it’s over for you. His tongue piercing is a perfect mix of cold that adds to the intensity of his hot tongue and mouth sucking and lapping at your pussy. He does it like he’s been doing this all his life, similar to Keigo but quicker, less gentle. At this point, a new song has begun to play from Keigo’s phone––“Moodswings” by Pop Smoke––and Dabi’s broad tongue strokes match the tempo, making you see stars. “God, Dabi!” you moan, gripping the comforter below you. “That feels so good!” 

Though it’s hot to Keigo too, he isn't too keen on his friend hogging his pussy. “Bitch,” he growls, “I’m here too. At least lemme suck on this pretty asshole. And yes, she likes that too.” Dabi pauses, staring at you then at the winged hero in shock. “Fuck, Kei, you’ve got a real freak on your hands,” he exhales in disbelief, earning a laugh from both of them at your expense. 

Then Keigo’s hands are spreading your asscheeks apart and his tongue is lapping at your puckered asshole. You’re whining and sobbing into the mattress, fingers clenching the comforter so tight that your knuckles turn pale. Then they switch, Dabi eating your ass while Keigo gulps down your pussy, giving you softer yet eager tongue flicks against your clit.

“You like this, baby?” he asks, his words muffled by his tongue in your little hole. “You like gettin’ both of your holes fucked? Mmm, I know you do. That body is tellin’ us everything we need to know.” And it is: you can’t stop tossing your ass back and grinding your hips into their mouths, desperate for more. When your orgasm begins to rise, it is intense and builds in your core, threatening to spill over.

“Oh, sh-sh-shit!” you squeal, pushing your ass and pussy into their faces. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum! You’re both gonna make me cum!” 

“Do it then,” Dabi demands, now licking on your pussy. “Cum down my fuckin’ throat.” Keigo whines in protest, pulling away from your ass to busy himself stroking your clit with two fingers. “No, baby,” he mumbles. “Cum for me. Cum for your man…please?”

Both of them watch you as you cum all over yourself and them, filling their mouths with your taste. Your orgasm is intense; earth-shattering. It makes your body shake and quiver and stars explode behind your eyelids. A loud whine that you barely recognize as your voice escapes you as you let go of every bit of sanity and control you have left. 

When you’re finally done, the duo laps greedily at your juices, earning soft sighs and whimpers of protest in response to them overstimulating you. “Fuckin’ move, Dabi,” Keigo growls, growing impatient. “You’re hoggin’ all of her up! Don’t forget, you burnt bitch: that’s my pussy you’re eating.” You look back at them now, breathing heavily. Dabi pulls away from your cunt to chuckle at his friend, his lips shining with your juices. “Tell that to her. She seems like she likes this piercing an awful lot.” He spits his tongue out at Keigo, teasingly wiggling it at him. 

And then you get an awfully devious, nasty idea in your head at the sight of that sinful piercing: “Is this pierced too?” you innocently ask. The song switches now––“Touch It” by DVSN––and it immediately changes the atmosphere in the room to something way nastier and intimate than before.

Dabi and Keigo stare at you in silent awe, both clearly aroused by your change in demeanor. Dabi smirks, taking your hand and placing it on his crotch. “You tryna find out, baby doll?” he gravely asks, tracing a finger over your cheek. You shiver in delight at his touch. 

“Is your man okay with that?” he asks, questionably looking at Keigo. You look too, asking with your eyes. “Only if you’re okay with sharing,” he chuckles, “but something tells me you’re just as eager to see her take two dicks as I am.”

Seeing the look in his eyes and how ruffled his wings have gotten, you can tell he is worked up, so you hurry to coax him closer to you. Soon, they are both sitting on their knees above you while you sit low on your knees on the mattress, your feet curled underneath your butt. “You two are wearin’ way too much,” you sternly say. “I want both of you naked. Now.” 

They smirk at your bold request but hurry to fill it, fingers working at their flies and peeling off their tops. You help them each, damn near gasping at how much sexiness is in front of you once they’re down to their boxers.

Though they are both lean with hard muscle, toned arms, and bite-worthy thighs, they have their differences too: Keigo has smooth, tanned skin that is accentuated by the gold chain hanging from his neck and a few tattoos here and there inked across his skin.

Meanwhile, Dabi has pale skin that is inked with tatts and scarred and bumpy with burns and staples. He has nipple piercings that wink at you and a happy trail of white hairs that lead down to his toned V-line. “Not the prettiest sight, I know,” he lightly laughs, but you can tell he’s ashamed of the way he looks away from you. 

You make it your mission to make him feel otherwise. Standing higher up on your knees, you press your lips to his and stroke your hands over his stomach. “You’re so sexy,” you purr. You turn to Keigo, pressing a hand to his chest to feel his heart beat against your fingertips. “Both of you are,” you sigh dreamily. “I’m such a lucky bitch.” They silently laugh, their eyes aglow with lust as you begin to work their boxers down with both hands. 

Then you’re faced with two big dicks in your face. Your eyes widen at the sight of Dabi, noticing how he curves upward and is slightly longer than Keigo. The cock head is an angry red, while Keigo’s is pinker, pre-cum dripping from the tip for you. You have no idea how you’re going to handle both of them at the same time, but you surprise even yourself when you spit into your hands and begin to stroke them both, getting a feel of both of them in your hands. Their soft moans coax you to continue, your body relishing the way they sound. “Such a big girl takin’ two big dicks at the same time,” Keigo hums, watching you stroke him and his best friend. 

Dabi watches too, his bottom lip caught between his teeth at the way you gently run your thumb across his head. “Careful now, baby bird,” Keigo chuckles. “He’s sensitive there.” The white-haired man glares at his friend though not as hostile because of how good your soft, little hand feels stroking his dick. “Fuck you,” he growls. 

“Just lookin’ out for you, bro,” Keigo chuckles. He takes a lockful of your hair and pulls your face back, making you look at him. As you softly gasp at the sensation of your hair being tugged back, Keigo’s cock twitches in your hand. “Now show our friend how good you are at suckin’ dick,” he demands with a smile.

You don’t hesitate to do so, quickly opening your mouth and swallowing Dabi’s dick. You suck, gargle, and gag on it. You lick from base to tip, stroke his balls with one hand while stroking his dick with your throat. Dabi is gobsmacked by how good you are, his hand gripping your hair and his pretty eyes rolling to the back of his head. He can’t get enough of how tight and wet your throat is, mumbling about it through heavy pants. 

“Go on, bro,” Keigo encourages him. “Fuck her up. Her throat is there for a reason.” And so he does, thrusting into your tempting throat while you force yourself to take him, no matter how much your jaw aches and tears sting your eyes. You love seeing him feel good. You feel the same for Keigo when you switch to him next, taking him deep as he fucks your throat with slow, deliberate strokes that would no doubt draw long moans out of you if he were inside of you. 

You repeat this, alternating between stroking one and sucking the other, coating their cocks in your spit that collects in your mouth and drips down your chin. You stare into their eyes, adoring how they stare upon you so intensely, so lustfully. They each give you words of dirty praise though different. Keigo is sweet, stroking your hair back as you take his cock. “Good girl,” he praises. “Such a good girl for me.” 

Meanwhile, Dabi’s praise is full of degradation as his hand yanks on your hair and his balls hit your chin. 

“Good fuckin’ slut,” he groans. “How are you so good at this shit?” He pulls out of your mouth suddenly, letting you breathe. “Open your mouth,” he demands. You do so, sticking your tongue out. He tilts your chin up before spitting a wallop of saliva into your mouth, much to your pussy’s delight. “Now spit it back on that dick,” he orders which you do, spitting it back onto his cock before slurping it up and letting it lube him up so it’s easier to take him into your throat again. 

Keigo yanks you back to him and sticks his cock back in your mouth, laughing at your surprised mewl. By this time, the song has changed and “OTW” by Jhene Aiko and Mila J is filling the bedroom. Keigo thrusts into your mouth according to the tempo, grinning at how you struggle with his long strokes. “Don’t stop now, cutie,” he chuckles. “You asked for this and now you’re gettin’ it. Don’t disappoint us.” The two evilly laugh at your expense, loving how hard you’re finding it to take a breath. 

And you are. The more dick you take, the more you’re finding it difficult to breathe or recover. Your mouth is coated in spit and your throat feels raw from it constantly being fucked…but it also feels damn good. You love that you’re the one making them feel good. No one else. This only becomes realer for you when Keigo feels himself getting close and slides out of your mouth. “Fuck, I’m ‘bout to cum!” he grunts, but slows his hand down so he doesn’t pump cum in your face. “No, not yet. I need to be inside you for that.” 

Excitement zings through you. Finally! What you’ve been waiting for! “I’m cool with just fuckin’ her throat till I bust,” Dabi pants, lazily stroking his cock. “That is your girl, after all. And this feels way too good to give up.” He is not just referring to your heavenly mouth and throat, but to your soft hands that leave the mattress every so often to stroke up and down his chest and stomach. He takes one of them and presses it to his lips, a change to his rough demeanor while he was fucking your face. 

 “Thanks, bro,” Keigo says with a grin “I’m dying to see how she’ll take all that cum down your throat.” Dabi smirks, looking down at you looking absolutely wrecked (so far). “You think you’ve had two big dicks, baby doll?” he asks, grinning evilly at you. “You haven’t seen shit yet.” You’re almost afraid to find out, but you know you’re too late to turn back now when Keigo positions you. He hikes your ass up and gives your ass a smack before his cock is sheathing inside of you without warning. 

You gasp, your mouth open wide at the searing pleasure you feel. Dabi takes advantage of this, sliding his cock back inside of your mouth and freely fucking your throat while Keigo begins to follow suit, following the same tempo his friend does: rough and hard.

Keigo grips your tits as they swing and your ass as it jiggles against him with every thrust. “How’s this, hm?” he teasingly asks. “How’s this for takin’ two cocks, huh?” You mumble nonsense against Dabi’s cock, earning a panty laugh from your mutual friend. “Can’t even speak ‘cause both of your holes are filled to the brim,” he laughs. “I’d feel bad if your throat didn’t feel so fuckin’ good, shit…” 

He fucks your mouth a little faster, making his heavy balls slap against your chin and the bed creak with the force of two men fucking you at the same time. Your jaw begins to intensely ache with how much Dabi is filling your throat and you try to ease back to allow yourself some comfort, but Keigo takes that as you losing focus.

“C’mon, mama, don’t leave me out,” he pouts, giving your ass another sharp smack. “Throw that ass back for me. Fuck me back. Show me how much you love this.” And, like a little doll being controlled, you do so, tossing your ass back into him to shove his cock deeper inside of you. “There we go,” he moans. “That’s perfect. You’re perfect…our perfect girl.” 

You swear you nearly squirt when he says this. Being between them, getting your brains fucked out by them, you feel as if you are their perfect girl only. You are there to please them, and they you. You want this moment to last forever, but as their thrusts in unison begin to quicken and their moans intensify, you can tell that your end is about to be reached. Keigo presses a kiss to your back, buried to the hilt inside your pussy. “We love you so much, y’know that?” he pants. “We fuckin’ adore you, Y/N.” 

“So much!” Dabi grunts, pulling out to tap his dick against your lips and chin. “You’re the best little slut for us.” You whimper at their words, your pussy quivering and clenching around the big cock inside of you. “Think we can make her cum at midnight sharp, D?” Keigo chuckles, realizing that you’re close. “I wanna ring in the new year the right way.” Dabi only mischievously grins, wordlessly agreeing to the naughty act of celebration. 

The song switches to something smooth and relaxing yet adds to the intensity of your end––“Sit On It” by Jazmine Sullivan and Ari Lennox––and it doesn't take long for the duo to begin to feel their orgasms coming. “God fuckin’ dammit, I’m ‘bout to cum,” Dabi groans, feral and losing control. “Take me deep, baby doll. Deep down that slutty throat.” 

Keigo tugs on your hair as he grips your hip with the other hand, railing you into the mattress. “M’close too,” he warns. “I can tell you’re gonna cum too, baby bird. Are we gonna make that little pussy cum?” His hand loops between your thighs to rub at your clit, each circle to makes with his fingers pushing you closer to the edge of no return. Dabi’s dick slips out of your mouth, letting you take a breath and utter your arrival. “K-Kei!” you sob. “T-Touya, please! I’m gonna cum!” 

As the music plays, something breaks through to mingle with it: all around you––on the TV downstairs, outside your balcony, through the walls next door––people begin to countdown from ten till midnight. Till the new year. You were getting fucked so good that you nearly forgot it’s NYE. 

Ten. 

Nine.

“There’s the countdown,” Keigo moans, quickening his pace and nailing your G-spot again and again. “C’mon and cum with us, baby. We’ve got you. It’s okay.” 

Eight… 

Seven.

Six. 

Grunts, groans, and the sound of skin slapping against skin fill the bedroom as you get closer to your climax. “Cum, baby!” Keigo demands, gripping onto you tight as he pummels into your pussy. “Cum while I fill you up.” 

Five. 

Four. 

Three. 

“Cum all over that dick, baby doll,” Dabi growls into your ear as he shoves his cock deeper down your throat, prepared to fill it up. “Do it. Make us proud, Y/N.” 

Two. 

One. 

Zero.

Happy New Year!

Cheers, applause, and the sound of makeshift fireworks and poppers fill the tense air, making you feel as if all of this is happening because you’re cumming for your boys as much as they want you to. Because you're doing as they told you to.

As soon as the countdown reaches one, you gush around Keigo’s cock just as he fills you up, digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass as he does. Dabi joins you both, cumming down your throat, his deep, guttural grunts mixing with Keigo’s louder, high-pitched moans. You scream around Dabi’s cock as your orgasm takes your body and propels it through the skies. You’re soaring, flying above the clouds. You feel like you could touch the stars with how good you feel. 

But just as quickly as it comes, it fades, deliciously so. You ride the wave for a couple of minutes with Keigo and Dabi whose thrusts slow and grow sloppier the more they try to chase that high. “Fuck me,” Keigo sighs as he gently pulls out of your tight hole, groaning at how his cum drips out of you and down your thighs. You reach back to stroke the buttery-soft feathers of his wings, helping him ride out that wave of bliss, pleased with the soft whimpers he gives you.

Dabi slides out of your mouth, leaving cum and spit staining your lips and chin. He wipes it away with his thumbs, letting you suck on them when they linger close to your mouth. Keigo moves to pause his music, the air now filled with your soft panting and the muffled sounds from the TV and your neighbors. 

When your orgasm finally fades, you settle onto your elbows, finally able to rest. You feel achy and sore yet immensely satisfied. You can hardly believe it. You just had your first threesome with your boyfriend and childhood friend. “Wow,” you sigh. It’s all you can say. Keigo grins down at you, sitting back on his hands, glinting in sweat and his semi-hard cock splayed out in front of you. “Right?” he chuckles. “That’s the only word to describe it. You alright, Dabi?” 

You look over to the ex-villain who is lying on his back next to you, looking content. “Never better,” he softly sighs. “I haven’t came that hard in ages.” Keigo sniggers, winking at him. “Told you she’s good,” he chuckles and the fact that he’s talked about your skills makes you flush. “Never did I think I’d fuck my boyfriend and my friend at the same time,” you giggle, mostly at the absurdness of it. Talk about ending the night with a bang. 

“And now you’re about to cuddle with ‘em,” Keigo adds. Dabi side eyes him to which Keigo returns it. “What? Do emotionally damaged, bad boys not like cuddles?” He snuggles in next to you on your right, helping you turn around so you’re facing his chest and handsome face.

You look back at Dabi, hoping your backside and puppy dog eyes will reel him in. “Please, Dabi?” you innocently beg, staring up at him through your lashes. 

Fortunately, your ass and eyes win him over. “Such a baby,” he sighs with an eye roll, but snuggles up behind you anyway, his hand laying lazily on your thigh. “You need to stop spoilin’ her so damn much, bird brain,” he criticizes Keigo who laughs, having no intention of stopping.

For a while, the three of you lay in complete silence, no words needed. Dabi strokes up and down your side, starting from your hip to your calve and back up again. Keigo presses kisses to your cheek and forehead, his fingers drawing shapes on your back. You press a hand to his beating heart and play with his necklace, breathing in both him and Dabi’s mingling scents. “This was so, so nice,” you hum, content and satisfied. “Thank you both so much for this. I love you both so much.”

Keigo presses another chaste kiss to your cheek, his touch as soft as a butterfly’s wings. “And we love you too,” he murmurs into your hair. Dabi doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to. The kiss he leaves on your shoulder blade is all the confirmation you need that the feeling is mutual. 

Knock, knock, knock! You startle, jumping out of your skin as you and the boys look toward the bedroom door. Keigo shields you with his wings immediately, your entire body covered with red feathers. 

“And I love y’all too,” Rumi calls through the door, "but you freaky motherfuckers woke me up! And I missed the countdown! At least wake me up with your fucking before midnight!” 

You, Keigo, and Dabi silently look at each other before erupting into laughter. “Sorry, cotton tail,” Keigo laughs despite Rumi cussing outside the bedroom door. “Oh, and before we forget…” 

He and Dabi slowly move in and each press a kiss to your cheeks. “Happy New Year,” they say in unison. 

THE END. 

[depressedraisin]

okay so i don't really have a point to make over here but i've been thinking about this a lot lately so here we go: ever notice how alex tends to use a lot of dance-related words as metaphors for sex but almost always undercuts the image of elegance/beauty that might evoke using interesting juxtapositions and wordplay??

in piledriver waltz (submarine ep, 2010; also reprised for suck it and see, 2011) he writes "i heard the piledriver waltz// it woke me up this morning". now 'piledriver waltz' here refers to someone having sex (atleast the contributors at genius think so and so do i). turner uses the word waltz- an intimate ballroom dance between two partners- but adds piledriver- which is, as wikipedia tells me, "a professional wrestling driver move in which the wrestler grabs their opponent, turns them upside-down, and drops into a sitting or kneeling position, driving the opponent head-first into the mat". so you see, the refined, elegant, romantic connotations of waltz is contrasted with the image of rough ruthlessness that piledriver brings.

(ALSO also did you notice? a wrestling reference? all the way back in 2010 👀 now idk if it's a regular vocab words or specific to wrestling-lingo only back in uk, but my studied-english-as-first-language-in-school-but-not-native speaker ass did have to google what the hell that means)

another such oxymoron-esque treatment of metaphors for sex we see in everything you've come to expect (everything you've come to expect, 2016). the line, one of my absolute favourite things turner and kane have ever written, goes "dirtbag ballet by the bins down the alley // as i walk through the chalet of the shadow of death". 'dirtbag ballet' again refers to sex here, this time the illicit kind, the kind that takes place in shadowy corners and dingy alleys. 'ballet' is another term that we will immediately associate with elegance and graceful moves but the use of 'dirt bag' by it's side brings a sense of crassness, almost vulgar quality to it. that term immediately paints a very stark picture of wild clandestine passion that illicit affairs carries probably. the song talks about that a lot.

(PS: an applause for the impeccable internal rhyme in those lines tho. *chef's kiss*)

the last example that stands out to me is from four stars out of five (tranquility base hotel and casino, 2018) where the line goes "hokey cokey with the opposite sex." (someone mentioned it around here today and that's what sparked this post. EDIT: it's @homoirrealis https://www.tumblr.com/lalaballa1977/717488374837084160?source=share) now there's no clever oxymoron-metaphor situation here, but the choice of that specific dance to talk about sex (straight sex, as the songwriter so kindly points out) is very interesting to me. hokey cokey as we know is a campfire dance that originated with brit folk dances and tunes. it's so funny because whenever i hear that line it immediately takes me back to kindergarten and a bunch of us kids standing in a circle, singing the rhyme and learning the dance. therefore in my mind atleast, hokey cokey evokes images of practiced, monotonous movements of hand and feet, no fluidity, no elegance. also the communal aspect of it. what if we read it as something you are made to participate in because you are a part in a group, because a number of pairs of eyes are on you. a question worth pondering perhaps.

and all this referring to sex?

also the song goes on to entice you to escape to this swanky hotel-casino-taqueria up on the moon and get far, far away from shit that you have done and regret and want to forget. then why is this hokey cokey with the opposite sex also one of those things the narrator might want to forget?

Hmmmmm questions worth pondering, innit?

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 1: Take Me To Church

AO3 link

Playlist of all songs

next chapter

Summary: A traveler arrives in a land of hidden villages and even deeper mysteries. But to the Akatsuki, she's a secret herself. A multichapter songfic about a strange, soft, "real world" musician who wins a stranger group over. She'll use the only thing she's got- her whimsy- to survive, but what does that mean to the charter of villains who survived by throwing pure mirth away? Maybe her head is stuck in the clouds.

Author's notes: I have been hyperfixated off and on by the Akatsuki alone (less Naruto the show) for about ten-so years of my life. At this point, they are dolls to me. They listen to my silly little songs and agree if I say "lmao that you". If the canon is king then I am God and what is God to a king. I don't care if Hidan knows what a keyboard is, I don't CARE, NO HE DON'T.

(Clearly cares a lot)

Anyhow. Combination OC-self insert-reader insert character is soft, musical, secretly from the "real world", and wins people over. I have a sociology degree with a focus on religion so I like musings about that sort of thing. Philosophical thoughts about murder, suicidality abound. I don't plan on any SA or anything majorly sexual, but I'm mulling over some pretty fucked up (erotic?) moments so 18+ interaction only, please. Partial songfic as I associate songs with anytthing that has an imaginary pulse, have different songs planned out to reference. If you like Will Wood, you'll have fun. Title is a reference to The Song With Five names by Will Wood and acts as scene breaks in this post. Perhaps obviously, Take Me To Church by Hozier is in this chapter. Lyrics not necessarily in order every time.

I'm writing this to get it out of my system but more than happy if it's for you too.

Edit 9/27/24: I lied about the not being sexual thing

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Never trust in yourself Or anyone else We’ve always all been wrong

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He likes the way boiling water stings at his skin. It’s not quite as hot as that, but hot enough to make him feel something. A small comfort, a reminder from Jashin. Hidan, lamenting as he slips into the spring, contemplates on a comparison between this and being clothed by the lord himself as it washes upon him inch by inch, popping and sizzling until it makes his hairs stand on end. It hurts-- not quite enough, but it hurts.

Good.

Prayer fills the back of his mouth, thick enough to choke on, as he remembers pain means he is alive. He wrings out a small cloth in a bucket besides him and places it over his forehead and eyes.

Darkness. Steam fills his nose; he breathes deep...and he listens to his god.

…

…

It sure sounds a lot like someone yelling a room or two away.

A dull smack happens somewhere else in the inn. A woman begins to run. She has no fucking idea where she’s going-- how, where, who-- just that HERE and with THEM is going to SHIT. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping her eyes open and feet moving. She’s so thirsty she could drink the clouds of steam as she unwittingly approaches the men’s bath. So tired that she hardly recognizes three red prongs as a weapon as it’s propped against the stone. So scared she sees only one choice:

“Hey!”

Surely that wasn’t a voice talking to Hidan, right?

“I- I need to—” She’s out of breath already and she’s hardly lifted his scythe. “I need to borrow this! You’ll get it back-- I promise!” He lifts up one edge of the wet cloth, heel-turning from annoyed to pissed.

“EH?!” Hidan shrieks. “What the FUCK-” He’s cut off as the woman screams herself and backs just out of view from the bath entrance. “SHIT!” He didn’t pray nearly long enough to not fall headfirst into magma-hot testiness. Who the hell sees THOSE robes and fucks with his shit?! Who sees those BLADES and fucks with him?!

He probably doesn’t leave the bath as fast as is really warranted, stumbling out with the knot of his larger bath towel so loose he needs to hold it at his waist to keep it up. Through the hot fog of this dark hallway, his chin tilts up in intrigue. “Eh--?”

Hidan sees her face first. A brow is furrowed, a thousand horrible emotions weighing it down. She’s afraid-- that’s what’s most readily apparent. There’s a blotch of red and blue on her cheek and her mouth gapes with heavy breath.

“Stay away!”

She looks like she’s never held a weapon in her life. Goddammit, she’s holding it with all of her life, though.

He decides just to watch as she begins to address the most forgettable thing in the room.

“Cute.” A man snides at her. Ah...Hidan had seen him check in. His cologne smelled like ass. Now that it’s mentioned...he guess he did see someone else trail behind him-- close enough to be his shadow. Didn’t really set his alarms off then. But then again, till his scythe got involved, he didn’t really care. Hidan’s eyes flicker.

“Not a couple, huh?” he mutters. Although uncaring if he was heard or not, the former possibility occurs.

“Hey! Either get your pants back on or mind your own business! You don’t know us.” This approach is not reciprocated by her, shaky hands pushing the crimson steel further into his space. At first the man cringes, but the bluff is called. “Come on, now…” The guy’s smile is soft, like he knows her better than she herself. Hidan doesn’t miss how she flinches. It’s impossible to when there’s five more feet attached to her arm of cold hard metal. Knuckles brush almost lovingly against her new, sharp fingers.

“You don’t have it in you, duckling. Fluffy and soft, all squawk with no teeth.”

“I said NO!”

He steps forward. She panics.

He cuts like butter.

All three of them briefly share the same expression. Wide eyes, shock. However, each births something much more complicated in the seconds following.

While her stomach flips, Hidan’s feel butterflies. The whelp's blood splatters in all directions, just as it was meant to with such a swipe. It flutters through the air, settling on their faces as gentle as a whisper, while the rest swim around the still-pulsating eviscerations of a soul worth less than a rat. She watches the body sink to the ground, a human heart gush its contents into a dark, glistening puddle closer and closer to her feet. Just as it’s about to touch, her gaze raises and meets another’s. The reverence in his eyes is lost upon her.

The silence is peaceful to him as he studies the stranger-- stilling, like his lord laid a hand on his shoulder and beseech he witness. At this point the thoughts and emotions that she’s gripping in her stare even more pure and divine than the blooming rose shedding its petals before him; that sort of thing is expected-- wet blood as ordinary as dew on grass in the morning. But this… He’s never seen a civilian kill before, he’s beginning to ponder...

This revelation, too, goes unappreciated, but the upcoming perhaps is even more delicious than the taste of iron in the air for Jashin’s priest. The woman’s breath hurries, the blade drops to her feet, and her arms raise at her sides.

Three expressions are in this hall: Addicted. Afflicted. And dead.

“JESUS FUCK!” she screams in horror.

Hidan grins wider than he has in ages. This is the beginning of something beautiful.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yes or no isn't null Yes it is, no, I don't know Yes or no, isn't that a silly question? Ask it anyway

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Being isekai-ed into another world isn’t nearly as convenient as it’s cracked up to be, you know?

The traveler’s body is tensed tighter than tightrope, her teeth in a perpetual grit and brow hurting from being furrowed so hard for this long. She killed a man. She utters this out loud to process the fact.

“And it was GREAT, right?” This guy is more than a little too eager for all of this. Fuckin’ shit, that doesn’t bode well for her. She reflexively scream/shouts at nothing in response, gaze unflinching at empty air… No, that sort of volume isn’t going to cut it. A floor cushion is snatched up from besides Hidan and she belts face first into it until she can’t breathe, and then she goes for a few seconds longer so her insides burn.

The silver-hair demon, however, is having the time of his life. The great Jashin himself drops this poor little idiot straight from his palm to drench in blood till white becomes red. He leans into his own palm, amused smirk across his face as they bide their time in this inn’s bedroom. They’ll be kicked out eventually, dead body and all, but he’ll deal with that when they get there! Just break the news to Kakuzu that he lost the deposit. An amputation or two will be worth the trouble.

“Ahh, so this is your first?” he hums almost sensually. The tears well in her eyes.

“Yes!”

“And? How was it?! The weight of the blade in your hands, the way he ripped in half, how his chest cavity just DID THAT?” He pinches his fingers and “explodes” them in a quick stretch.

“It was BAD!” the woman agonizes, still needing a paper bag to breathe into.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “You get used to it.”

“Eeeughhhhhhhh….!”

Hidan sighs. Of course she doesn’t get it yet. Where would the fun in that be? “So, figures if that shithead had kidnapped you...you don’t really have a place now, huh?”

The pinpoint precision breaks her attention like glass, and she can tell where this is going. It wasn’t like she had anywhere to belong to in the first place!

“How about we hang out? I don’t have anywhere to be till my mandated jackass is back around.”

She squints. “M...mandated?” Like an...officer? “...Are you on parole?” she prods gently. He looks more confused than anything, though. Is that more or less relieving?

“The hell? You mean patrol?”

“...Yes,” she decides to lie. Her eyes shift finally, looking to the side to avoid his gaze. Constant reminders are about that she’s way down the rabbit hole. Or...bottom of the sea? That’s probably more accurate, going unconscious. The waking up part hasn’t come yet and hunger, thirst, and being punched do hurt a lot, and so she has no choice but to either survive or kill herself on the spot to save the trouble.

Hidan, unwitting, knocks the side of his head like he’s shaking water out of his ears. “Damn, you really ARE a dumbfuck civilian, mispronouncing that bad. Never heard the word before?” Just as the woman’s mouth opens, he interrupts. “Anyhow. No. Just biding my precious time till my partner comes back from whatever heathen nonsense dragged him away.”

She blinks. These words mean nothing to her. The whole murder thing makes simple conversation hard to keep up, and she’s already trying not to worry about pissing a guy off who thinks killing people is fine.

“Oi!” Hidan waves his hand like an impatient child. “Don’t leave me hangin’!” The stranger can only fold her hands in front of her lap and stammer.

“I-- I—”

There’s no clue what he really wants out of this. She’s 100% fucked if she doesn’t accept. Only 99% fucked if she does. Good odds.

“OKAY!” There’s no idea to her if he takes this as enthusiasm or as the duress it’s really under.

“That’s the fuckin’ spirit!” He sounds nearly sarcastic as he flings his head back and praises towards the ceiling. An ear-piercing scream brings him back down to earth. “Ahhh, yeah. Well, maybe now’s a good time to go. Don’t shit where we sleep n’ all.” With a swoosh, a black robe is taken off the floor and is swung around Hidan. “Normally I wouldn’t give a shit. But the virgin killer probably needs her time to relish this moment.”

A rock drops in her stomach. The man casually passes her and starts walking out the door, the bloodcurdling screaming continues as if it’s only as annoying as a car alarm in the parking lot. She swallows, and he stops past the doorway. Purple pools under a silver hairline look through her, over his shoulder. “Comin’?”

1%, she repeats in her mind.

Hopefully she’ll get the opportunity to kill herself later, without any help, if need be. There’s a hunch that dying by his hand wouldn’t be so pleasant.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Even I might defy, won't deny That I'm trying while my eyes do defy And belie quiet liars as I Say what I say, any way, I might be saying it But I've been wrong before

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite being a city girl, since she’s dropped in, the hustle and bustle of this society sure does overwhelm. The bargaining, the wagons, the bells-- and that’s only sound! Wafts of street food make her stomach hurt. The flags, statues, and other decor all clearly have a story behind them; she purses her lips trying to imagine--

“Oi!”

The woman knocks into his back and nearly falls over, him having nothing to offer but disdain as she regains balance. “How about this joint?” Clearly this is less of a suggestion and more of a certainty as he meanders into the doorway he suggests. A tapestry overhangs the darkness the cloaked man slips into, a single symbol printed so large and intimidating, despite not knowing what it means. She gulps.

Recompose. As best as you can.

She glimpses a ring as he sets his glass down, it only briefly distracting from the menu in her hands. “I’ll...get whatever you’re getting,” she compromises softly, hoping everyone gets the hint when she sets the list down. The man shrugs.

“Make it two, yeah?!” The server slips away, leaving the awkwardness as an appetizer. Anything besides the guy ahead of her is what her eyes go to, shoulders tilting back and head cocked enough every which way that it’ll get sore. The way people dressed. Laughed. Gossiped.

“Hoshigakure!” lips speak in the dim light. “That’s where it’ll be.” A snarl meets this, an old time friend with her doubts.

“You’re sure ‘bout this? That’s awfully far—”

“Yeah, but he’s worth it! Wouldn’t you? For the chance at true love?!”

“Get your head out of the goddamn clouds…”

A literal snap in her ear brings her back. “Oi!” the man repeats, forcing her attention back to him. “What are you, high or somethin’? Where. Are. You. From.” He’s not the type to repeat himself twice.

“...Hoshi-- gakure.” The unintended stammer makes her heart race, and the way he hums loud and long doesn’t help.

“Never been! Heard it’s a shithole. Probably why you left!”

The other conversation still fills her desperate ear, leaving her clues:

“The Kage is an idiot, isn’t he?! All that power means nothing with no respect. What’s a land without a leader?”

“We’re rendezvousing there, not living there.”

“The way you describe his passion for his homeland says otherwise, you know…”

“He likes the stargazing!”

The friend sighs. “Hopeless,” she murmurs.

The woman mentally returns to the table she’s seated at, briefly biting her bottom lip as she forces a face-to-face conversation. “It’s hopeless there,” she weaves. She may not be a good liar, but she used to have fun performing, pouring one’s self into the story being told. A grain of truth makes it all more believable, and so she rolls back her shoulders, swallows her pride, and thinks about being gone. “I didn’t belong anymore. Politically, it’s in the shit, obviously… Not even the stars could hold me in place.”

A palm holds his cheek in place, violet stare unflinching as hands drop steaming plates and bowls in the small gap between them. “So it started by leaving on yer on volition?” She nods, honestly. “Kidnappin’ came later,” he assumes. “Don’t take this the hard way but you’re not pretty or anything. Not like yer meant for sellin’… Any idea what he wanted you for? Did you have money? Don’t fucking tell me your family was loaded.”

Redness pinpricks her cheeks but she still manages to shake her head no. “I think he just...recognized someone was lost and thought he could make something out of it.” She rakes her mind, trying to think of the guy more alive than when he was dead. You know. By her hands. “Can’t really ask him why now…” the woman surmises.

“Ahh…” the man replies simply, conveying what seems to be the barest threads of interest in her actual words. “So. Alone. Broke. N’ lost.”

The scent of seared meat in front of her compounds the suffocation of this observation. “Yeah.”

The man once again snaps, though less in her face and more in front of the scratch on the table she had glued her eyes to. After her attention is caught, he uses two fingers to point to himself. His own eyes are hooded, far too calm, and his smirk is lopsided.

“Sounds like a perfect time for a change of pace, yeah?!” Instead of knocking his glass into hers, he bumps it against her forehead, chuckling at the noise that escapes her mouth. “Jashin will set ya straight.”

Her eyelids flutter. “Jashin?” He raises the cup to his lips at a bad time. “Is that your name?”

He spit-takes.

“Fuckin’—NO! No! Hell, no!” There’s a solidness conveyed to her as the ceramic is set down, a change of tone. “I can only aspire to the name,” he muses, leaning philosophically all of a sudden. “Study the scripture… Follow his ways…”

“Jashin…” the woman echoes, delicate on her tongue. A major religion, perhaps? Or a cult leader? Or-- as history has taught, maybe both! How exciting. “Tell me about it?”

Oh she has no idea how abruptly she had just changed her life--

That’s what he thinks just as he gets shoved out of his chair.

“Eh?! The hell?!”

The friend she was spying on suddenly towers over the not-Jashin, clenching her fist. “You fucking SPAT on me!” Only a long, drawn out question-shaped breath returns from his lips. The man planning to run away throws a warning shot with his own glass, squarely breaking besides Hidan’s ear. “Get on your knees and beg, or get the fuck out!”

While it isn’t lost on her that several others in the candlelight are matching her horror, she’s unaware their reasons don’t match too. She’s just mortified there’s fighting at all! Holy SHIT she hates fighting! Someone could get hurt!But to the locals...Hidan’s cloak gave a glimpse of the bloodbath to come.

He hums, oh how smoothly he hums. It’s almost a purr. Slowly, his head turns to the traveler. “Seems like we’ve been blessed a first hand opportunity.” The way the woman screeches likely bothers him more than what initiated it-- another attack attempted, a cling of metal as a knife is blocked by a scythe. After that, it only hits the friend and the runaway that they’re in deep water, teasing a piranha ravenous. It’s a thing of beauty straight from the river Styx or the fires of Hell, those blades, bisecting a man like you can blow puffs off a dandelion.

“Wait- WAIT-” the traveler beseeches just as the Jashinist enters a fighting stance. He considers the plea, nodding in agreement.

“Ah, yeah.”

She nearly falls down again with the force of the scythe finding her hands.

“Lesson one: grave sin to start a fight that doesn’t end in slaughter.”

“WHAT!”

Suddenly she is the grim reaper to these people, awestruck in fear. “Please, hey-- HEY! WE will leave, okay?! Don’t hurt anyone!”

“I don’t WANT to hurt anyone!” she begs to ears deaf with their pounding hearts. No, wait, NO! everyone prays in turn. Hidan reads her expression intimately; how does it taste, to make others see what they have to lose? She’s full to the brim of whatever Jashin has bestowed upon her soul, arms and lungs trembling with the weight of mortality. It’s like a kitten scared of her own claws. His teeth can feel the pulse of his lip as he bites in anticipation.

It’s just about when someone in the crowd is about to act on her hesitation that a familiar voice growls from behind.

“HIDAN.”

Two chilled hands grab the man by the collar and the woman by the scythe. Kakuzu wasn’t intending on dragging her over; her fault she won’t let go for dear life. She gasps, abruptly across the entire length of the room in a snap, shaky eyes meeting emeralds. They literally see right through her. Immediately she can see she is an object. A hindrance. If Hidan is the grim reaper then Kakuzu is cold uncaring death itself. And death is already tired of this bullshit playing around.

The tall newcomer sighs, gravelly in his throat. “What,” he more states than asks, “Are you doing.”

“Proselytizing, cocksucker!” Kakuzu repeats the first word under his mask, eyes returning to the girl while saying nothing directly to her.

“And this?”

“My disciple!”

He studies her. It’s like if a mouse that hides in the wall became a person.

“...You can’t be serious.” Guy and gal are simultaneously dropped to the floor, all threat forgotten in the crowd as they witness the bizarre show. The masked one starts to leave, and much to her dismay, the prophet takes her by the wrist and follows.

“Can you not respect my fucking beliefs for ONCE!” Hidan shouts at the back of his head as they go under a sunset sky.

“No.”

“KAKUZU!” Okay, so that’s both of their names now, she manages to note. “If you get your pointless bounties then I get this!”

“The hell you do!”

“Fucker!” Hidan spits back. “I saw it in her! This is something Jashin MEANT for me!” He grits his teeth, rationalizing the irrational. “We are all subject to Lord Jashin’s will! Even SHE can kill!”

The traveler only now recognizes how close to the outskirts they were, how if she screamed now, they’re so deep in the trees that the forest floor would dampen the sound. The red sclera stands out on Kakuzu’s face as he turns slowly-- too slowly-- to glare at the two behind them. She is in deep shit.

“I-I-I don’t mean to be trouble! I’ll just—” Politeness be damned, there’s no way out of a zombie’s grasp. Again, Kakuzu glares at her while addressing someone else.

“No expense,” he demands, curdling anger on his tongue. “No slowing us. She needs to do less than exist around me. If I feel a single iota of air shift around her, we are leaving her behind.”

In the woods. To die.

A lot of this comes back to killing or dying, doesn’t it?

She can’t even dare to swallow, while Hidan nonchalantly- roughly- yanks the woman from Kakuzu’s iron hold. “And you call me dramatic.”

Kakuzu doesn’t even have it in him to roll his eyes. He just turns back around, grips his fists to his sides, and walks once again. Hidan lets out a “pfff” in her ear.

“Old bitch.”

This traveler is fully aware she is just a goldfish in a plastic bag from this second on.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Why, I can't see That I am the "me" That I was born into And what's the source of you?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Her tired heart won’t even stop pounding now that they’ve settled for the night; in fact, it made this worse. Idleness could mean anything to these people. For sure, at least for one it means that injuring others is entertaining. The other guy feeling at best contempt for her causes the woman to take Kakuzu’s threat very seriously. That’s why it’s such a surprise when a half hour or so into Hidan’s prayers, the masked man speaks to her for the first time.

“How’d he get you into this?”

She gasps lightly, as if any request of her will weigh the worth of her existence. As she hesitates, Kakuzu dips his head, light of the fire slicking over his slashed headband and ghostly gemstone eyes. Thinking better of it, she blinks away the fear and tries to reply.

“He...helped me get out of a bad situation.”

Rustling grass and crickets. She’s guessing if he wants more.

“He...saw me kill someone to get away. And. I guess he liked it.” Her voice is so soft, words not thick like honey but like tar.

“So he didn’t help you at all.”

“It was his weapon,” she states as defense. He murmurs in response. The pages of Kakuzu’s book finish flipping between his fingers, and he’s satisfied that at least as of this moment, she has no price.

“So you don’t want this.”

“I—” the woman holds herself tighter, hands in her lap and flames flickering, leaving as fast as they come. “I don’t. Know.”

“So you don’t.”

“I can HEAR, you bastards.” She suppresses a yelp but not a shiver. Kakuzu only sighs.

“She’s taking you for a ride, Hidan. Know that underneath all of your pointless sentimentality.”

“TCH!”

The silence fills the space between them, suffocating. Is she? Is she taking him for a ride? It never crossed her that way, but it was true. Just sticking around to whatever- whoever- offers a place to cling to. And how did it end up with the first guy? She was lucky that a sore face is the worst she got out of it. So what about this?

They sit in a triangle, both staring at the fire as a glow washes the fronts of midnight-soaked garb. One holds a book in front of his hearts and the other has a pendant to his lips. No one is really happy about all this. What’s the point?

Bravely, gently, the woman shifts up and wanders slowly enough that it’s known she’s not running away. She gets far enough away she believes no one can hear her, if she just speaks under her breath. A cliff is ahead, a clearing of stars over a pit of lush, deep greens stories below and miles beyond. The little noise there is becomes so much louder. Rustling leaves in the wind surely will keep her secret. You can taste the oxygen from so many trees; maybe they will satiate the hunger. Her own heart is sore from racing. Wistfully, she needs peace now, in this quiet, uncaring world that won’t let her rest.

My lover’s got humor

She whispers melodically.

She's the giggle at a funeral

Knows everybody's disapproval

I should've worshiped her sooner

If the Heavens ever did speak

She's the last true mouthpiece

Every Sunday's getting more bleak

A fresh poison each week

Hidan breathes in.

We were born sick

You heard them say it

Hidan breathes out.

My church offers no absolutes

She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom"

The only Heaven I'll be sent to

Is when I'm alone with you

I was born sick, but I love it

Command me to be well

Amen

Kakuzu doesn't acknowledge, but he does listen.

Amen

Hidan doesn’t know what it means, but he feels the veneration it carries. Her white-toned dress is spectral in the moonlight, curls of hair played with by the wind.

Amen

She prays for something she doesn’t know.

Amen

[fandomsnstuff]

Look at me posting before 10pm (i work evenings lmao) anyway,

@taznovembercelebration

Day 8: super au/cooking

Angus McDonald is Spiderman. It's a pretty new gig, but he thinks he's doing okay. His secret identity is totally intact, so that's a win.

Read it on AO3

Angus lands in the street on his feet, the criminals he was pursuing trapped against the brick wall in front of him with an obscene amount of web. He wants nothing more than to take his mask off and get a breath of fresh air, but the wail of sirens is already on top of him. Cpt. Captain Bane steps out of the first car and says, "what the hell happened here?" 

"Just me doing your job for you," he quips. "Same old song and dance." 

Bane sneers at him. "I don't need a child to do my job for me." 

"Then you need to be faster," he tosses and catches the vial he retrieved, "crime isn't going to wait for you." 

Angus can see him eyeing it, the corrupt motherfucker. "What've you got there, Spiderman?" 

He knows exactly what it is, but he shrugs. "Some project the Institute's working on." He jabs his thumb towards the perpetrators that the other cops are cutting down from the webs, "pinky and the brain back there don't even know what it is. They just took the first thing they saw and ran." 

It's a highly experimental elixir that's supposed to allow the person who drinks it to become a powerful specter if their meat body dies. Lup and Barry aren't supposed to talk about it, but they really can't help themselves when they're in good company. 

Bane holds out a hand, "hand it over." 

"Uh," the last thing he wants to do is give him something from the Institute. Let alone something like this. Angus has been on Bane's case for years, well before he became Spiderman a few weeks back. "You know I think I better return it myself." 

Bane opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted by a shout of, "holy shit!" 

They look, and Lup stands just down the street, her hair wild and face flushed. She's out of breath as she walks up to them and says, "I just ran… like five blocks…" she looks at Angus, "I only caught some of that fight, but that was amazing." 

"Thank-" he clears his throat and tries to subtly deepen his voice, "thank you Dr.- uh- ma'am." Spiderman's never met Lup, he shouldn't know her last name. Although she has been in the paper, so maybe it would've been fine. Anyway, "I believe this belongs to you," he holds the vial out to her. 

She smiles wide and grabs it, "it's intact!" 

Barry catches up to her, huffing and puffing. "I can't run a city block like I used to," he groans. 

Lup pats him on the back and says, "bear, look," showing him the vial. 

"No way," he looks at Angus, "you got it back in one piece." 

"I'm nothing if not careful, sir," he says, still trying to modify his voice. If they recognize him, he's so fucked. 

"Dr. Bluejeans," Bane says, "I'm going to need you to hand that over," he reaches for the vial, "it's evidence." 

Barry draws his hand back, "it's top secret Institute research. It's not going anywhere but back to the lab." 

"It's been involved in a crime, it needs to come back to the precinct."

"Why?" Lup takes half a step in front of Barry. "You've got the criminals wrapped up in a bow. You didn't even need to do anything." 

"Ma'am-" 

"Dr. Taaco." 

He sighs irritably. "Dr. Taaco, we're required to do a full investigation, which includes gathering evidence. That vial was stolen, so it's evidence." 

"And you can come to the Institute on Monday with a warrant for it. For now, we need to take it back." 

Bane clenches his fists. "Let me escort you," Angus interrupts. The adults all look at him. "You know," he says, "just in case." 

Bane says, "absolutely not-" 

"Sure," Lup says, "you can escort us." 

"He's a child," Bane protests.

"He's Spiderman," Barry says. "He rescued our research while chasing criminals through the city, I'm sure he can protect it while we're just walking up the street." 

Lup slings an arm around his shoulders and starts leading him away before Bane can argue any further. As they walk up the street back towards the lab, she and Barry talk about how the whole night shook down for them. They were working late, and had taken a break. They didn't hear the thieves enter or break anything, but the alarms started blaring, and they saw them running out. They gave chase, and saw him, Spiderman, swing in and apprehend them. 

"Which reminds me," Lup says once they reach the Institute, "are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." They got a few good hits on him, but nothing that won't heal by morning (thank you, nuclear spider powers). "You two should put that vial back and head home. It's late." 

"We could say the same to you," Barry says. "What are you, like, fifteen?" 

"I'm eighteen." He's super not eighteen, he's exactly two weeks away from his sixteenth birthday. 

"Right." Neither of them look convinced. 

"Well you're safe back at your lab," he laughs nervously, "I should be going. Stay safe!" He blindly shoots a web and takes off in whatever direction it takes him. He swings a good way down a random street before stopping on top of a building to get his bearings, and he heads home. 

He lands on the fire escape just outside his window, and opens it slowly. It cooperates tonight, and doesn't screech too loudly as the old wood slides up. He crawls into his bedroom and tears his mask off, taking a deep breath of fresh air. He creeps to his door and cracks it open, listening for any activity within the apartment. It's quiet, and all the lights are off. He shuts the door again. He doesn't bother to turn on a light as he peels his suit off, he's found that he can see quite well in the dark nowadays. 

He changes into pajamas. He longs to take a shower, but it's nearing 1am, and Taako's a pretty light sleeper. He doesn't want him to question why he's taking a shower so late. 

His stomach grumbles, and he sees visions of the leftover pizza he knows is in the fridge. He creeps out of his room and down the hall to the main living area. His attention is zeroed in on the fridge, so he jumps out of his skin when a light suddenly turns on. 

"You know, if you were going to be a vigilante, the least you could've done is tell me first." 

"Taako, I- what-" 

Taako's sitting in an armchair, arms crossed, looking very displeased. "It's polite to tell your guardian what you're up to, Angus."

He laughs nervously. "I'm not-" 

"Oh, you're not? You start acting all sketchy and sneaking out, and a masked spider-themed vigilante shows up not even a week after you visited Lup and Barry's lab that, among other things, works with what?" 

Angus knows when he's been had. "...spiders?" 

"Spiders!" 

Silences stretches between them, and Angus hangs his head. "I'm sorry, Taako." 

Taako sighs and stands. "I'm not mad. I just need to know where you go. Because if–" his fist clenches, "if you don't come home, or if you get hurt, I need to know." 

"I'm sorry," he tries to blink away the burn of tears in his eyes, "I just wanted to protect you. All of you." 

Taako puts a hand on his shoulder, and he meets his eyes. "You don't need to protect us. We can protect ourselves just fine." 

"Okay," he whispers. 

"Are you hungry?" 

His lip quivers, "I'm so hungry." 

Taako smiles and squeezes his shoulder. "It takes a lot of energy to be a superhero and a growing boy. Sit, I'll make you a couple grilled cheeses." 

"I wanted-" 

"The pizza, I know. You can have that while you wait." 

He sits at the dining table as Taako moves about the kitchen. He slides the box with half a pizza still in it to him, then works on making two grilled cheese sandwiches. Angus devours the pizza and is halfway through his first sandwich when he asks, "does anyone else know?" 

"Oh yeah, we all suspected." 

"So Lup and Barry talking to me tonight like they didn't know me was total bullshit." 

Taako laughs, "she called me as soon as you left them, pumpkin. Told me she was one-hundo percent sure that you're Spiderman."

He sighs in exaggerated  annoyance. "No one can have a damn secret in this family!" 

[thelov3lybookworm]

You Deserve Better (part 5.1)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

A/n: If you haven't read part five before this, it might not make sense, so I suggest you read that first.🥰

•○🌑○•

Rhys's pov

It took a few moments for the paper he'd sent to Thea to return, and when it did, he couldn't help but chuckle as it hit him straight in his face.

He was standing on one of the balconies. He rolled it open, smiling, but that smile slowly drained away and his eyes widened as he reached the bottom of her writing. He read it again and again, trying to not hope too much. It could mean nothing, but then why would she write what she did?

Skyward camp, the one closest to Velaris.

Could it be where she was? But why would she stay there? Could it–As he was too busy trying to make sense of the letter, he didn't realise someone was coming his way. He looked up as soon as Feyre appeared in front of him and he put his mask back on. But while he talked to her, he was still constantly thinking about the letter.That is until, of course, he realised she was his mate. He forgot everything and all he could think about was Feyre and the bond.

He winnowed himself away. He hadn't really thought of a place, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself near a forest. When he turned around, he realised he had arrived at a camp. Because he had no place in his mind, he had winnowed himself to the place he was last thinking about.

Skyward camp.

He stumbled a few steps toward a house nearby, when the door opened and Thea, cauldron, his sister, with tears flowing down her face, stepped out in a flowy sundress with daisies designed on it. He couldn't stop stating at her, but he was still aware of the two males behind her.

The word flew out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Yes.

He grinned so hard his cheeks hurt, but he didn't care as he tried to get to her as fast as he could, barely stopping himself from face planting a couple of times. Not walking on snow for fifty years had probably made him forget how to walk on it.

She also ran to him, launching herself at him. He caught her, her arms around his neck, wobbling dangerously on his feet, but he laughed. Both of them did. Laughed like they had gone mad, but to be honest, they probably had.

"You're back." She whispered.

"I'm back." He agreed.

"Look at you. All grown up. I missed you so much." He screwed his eyes shut.

"You say that everytime you see me Rhysie." She laughedHe rocked her back and forth, not willing to let go of her yet. They stayed like that for long, before she pulled back to study his face.

"You've grown so pale." Althea sniffed and wiped his tears away. He just grinned at her, making her shake her head. "You've also become so thin. But don't worry. I'll help you get back to normal." She patted his shoulder.

Rhys knew she wasn't just talking about his appearance. He kissed her forehead and cheeks. "I know you will." Then he finally looked behind her to the Illyrians standing on the front porch of the house.

One with pale blue eyes was standing against the railing and the other was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and smiling.

Althea followed his line of sight and a flush climbed up her neck. "Um. That's the guy I am with. Come on."

Rhys's brows almost rose to his hairline, and she began tugging him towards the house. Both of the Illyrians bowed to him as he reached the porch.

"Rhys, this is Casteel, my..."

"Fiancé?" Casteel supplied.

Rhys's jaw dropped open.

"Casteel! I wanted to tell him later on!" He grinned.

"My bad then. I'm sorry. I'm her not fiancé.

"Althea facepalmed, exasperated. "He's my fiancé." Rhys again pulled her in for a bone crushing hug, laughing. Then Althea pointed to the other one. "Kieran. He's... the third wheel."

"I'm not." He seemed so offended that, even though Rhys knew he was only pretending, for a second Rhys felt sorry for him.

"Yeah. He's just a pain in my ass."

"I tolerate all the shit you put me through only to be called a third wheel and pain in your ass."

Althea grinned and looked up at Rhys, and finally he removed his arm from Althea's shoulder and introduced himself, even though they obviously would know who he was. "Rhysand."

"It's nice to finally meet you, my Lord." Casteel said. Rhys extended his hand, which Casteel took.

"It's nice to meet you too, the mysterious guy that she has been talking about all this time. Also, don't forget I will be testing you now that you're engaged." Thea slapped his shoulder, before tugging him into the house.

Since that day, Rhys frequented his visits to the camp to meet his precious little sister. And when Mor and the others asked him where he would vanish to, he deflected. They hadn't known the siblings had even written to each other, let alone meet. So he would keep it a secret until Althea was ready for them to know.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @Act1839 @we-were-beautiful

[lost-girl-2021]

Can you write Quaritch's reaction to Spider calling him dad? I mean his pov, thoughts, feelings maybe he bragged in front of his friends heh

Spoilers for the two most recent chapters of Days Into Decades

He for sure texted his lil group chat after Spider went into the bathroom. Like, spelling errors/all caps— the works. He's panicking, the system is crashing. Error, error. The gc blew up for the rest of the night as various members threw out their opinions and reactions.

I feel like he's an old man dad, in the sense that he doesn't talk about his feelings/acknowledge uncomfortable situations (at least not easily). That's part of why they were just silent on the car ride Saturday night. Spider was silently freaking out, Quaritch was trying not to make it seem like a big deal. Like, yes, if I don't acknowledge it happened, my son will understand how happy I am that he called me dad. Makes total sense.

He probably spent most of Sunday counting down the hours until he was supposed to pick up Spider. Like, he played it totally cool when he texted Spider that he was on his way, but he was genuinely excited.

And then . . . Well . . . He gets to the McGregor's and nobodies there. He texts and calls and gets no response. He calls Mr. McGregor, who's apparently been at work all day and hasn't seen Spider. He suggests checking with the Sully's, as though Quaritch and Jake will ever be anything but enemies.

He does end up calling Jake, since he has his number from Spider's emergency contact file (that he had changed as soon as possible). Jake is pissy about it, because he has to acknowledge Quaritch's existence yet again, but he agrees to check if Spider somehow ended up with one of his kids while he was at Tuk's dance recital that afternoon.

When Jake checks Lo'ak's room and finds it empty, he questions Kiri and Neteyam. Both are slightly panicked, because Lo'ak and Spider weren't even talking the day before and now they've apparently run off together? Not to mention, Lo'ak just got into a fight and was 100% grounded. He should've been in bed, watching movies and sulking as he'd been that morning when Jake and Neytiri left with their youngest.

Eventually, Neytiri and Jake remember the tracker they have in Lo'ak's phone (the kid loses it every other week, they were tired of hunting through the house every few days) and track it to the forest preserve. Jake doesn't even tell Quaritch, just honks across the street as they pull out of the driveway.

All of the adults end up in one of the forest's parking lots, Neytiri staying in the car so she doesn't physically attack Quaritch. Jake and Quaritch are kind of like bitter ex-bestfriends (which they kind of are, tbh) and stand five feet away from each other. ("Don't look at me— " "Don't look at me.")

There are too many paths and the tracker doesn't give anything beyond a general location when it's not hooked up to wi-fi, so they just wait the kids out. Soon enough, Lo'ak and a hoodie-covered Spider emerge from the thicket, skateboards in hand. They stumble over the last of the roots and Quaritch sees the 'oh shit' face both boys make (Spider a few seconds after Lo'ak, given his confinement).

Cue Quaritch's first big time parenting moment. The childcare courses did not cover finding your sixteen-year-old high off his ass in the woods. He takes him home, silently fuming the whole time, and watches him sluggishly make his wake up the steps and into the apartment.

After the anger fades a little bit, he wonders if it's his fault. If Spider got high because he regretted calling him dad the day before. If Quaritch made him feel so uncomfortable that he decided he needed to get high before he saw him.

Eventually, though the anger returns when Spider tries to shout his way out of a punishment. No phone, no skateboard, no Sully's. Were the last two mostly so Quaritch could stop having a heart attack anytime Spider left the house? Absolutely. But, they were also valid punishments.

This pretty much brings us back to the end of the most recent chapter. But, yeah. Basically, he's hyped, then pissed, then kinda sad, then pissed again.

[momsforroadhead]

Liam Wilhelmina appreciation post ACOC ep 9

"Thirty! Five. Of my sexy parents. Want to spread you, like soft cheese on a cracker."

Sleep-drunk, goes up to Anabelle: "Thirty five. Moms, dads... Are gonna bang you out!" And then collapses into sleep right there in front of her.

Tries to compliment Primsy by telling her "I like your bandage!"

Explaining why he's so good at combat now: "It's pretty crazy what thick grief will do to you. I'm kind of drowning in the middle of a big sea of grief and regret. And my obsession with revenge has given me new abilities!"

Ally implies that they practice not dropping their dice all over the place at home.

Ally says Emily "snogged brie down", whatever that means.

Right after learning that Sir Maurice Brie is a knight in the Bulbian Church, he goes "Do you like it? It's bullshit right?" and immediately gets smacked in the head.

Following Jet and Ruby's suggestion, he tries to seduce Brie by telling him: "You look like you could really pack it in." Brie challenges him to a duel. To get out of it, he tries to explain that he was referring to camping but it doesn't work cause he admits that he hasn't "touched a seed in a long time". He then follows up with "You just look like you have a big capacity to um... Do you wanna get a drink sometime?" and gets smacked in the head again.

"I need to sharpen my flirting skills a little bit more..." Cumulous instructs Liam to flirt with him. "What? Um, I think you're probably ready to take it." Cumulous likes it! "You're ready to get slammed down, big style! This is what all my parents used to say and they each loved it!"

Brennan describes Liam as "Peppermint Batman"

In response to Jet having many stick and poke tattoos: "What are you, a bartender? That was me flirting!!"

"I'm two feet away trying to take a shit, my ass is out and everybody-- I'm a war guy now!!!"

About Cumulous, to Calroy: "Who's the hottie?"

Right after Caramelinda says she considers him one of her children, he stealths away from the conversation. Or rather, tries to, because she gets a nat 20, turns the grass into caramel and makes him (and everybody) sink into the ground.

"What, your mom's tearaway underwear? We're going on a mission cause you saw tearaway underwear?"

"Was that fucking Ciabatta? I'm done. I'm done with this season."

And then Ally from the AP:

They are drinking out of a vase again, because they "don't have cups".

The vase seems to be part of a "stand-up britta".

Ally now has to shamefully drink out of their vase, because everyone is being quiet so the screen stays on them.

"We begged. I had my dog with my, I had an emotional support dog: Brennan kicked it, he fed it dice..."

When Brennan comes back from slamming a piss down big style, everybody stops talking behind his back and Ally starts doing high pitched little screems like girls catching up at brunch.

Brennan reminds Ally that they need to leave and they casually respond "Thank you baby!"

[steddieyes]

Daddy issues, Mommy issues. He's got issues, doesn't he?

Part 1 of my new Arlo fic :)

She drops the fucking cards, all of-

"No- stop that, stop." He sighs leaning forward to rest his face in his hand before getting up with a huff.

"I'm jus' gone have a little bit of private time, jus' one moment.." he says with a faked, happy tone an smile. Not denting that it's faked anymore.

As Arlo walks away and behind the set of hit Tv30 kids show 'Magic FunHouse', all that is heard is a raw, loud "FUUUUUUUUUCK!" before loud footsteps grow quieter and quieter. The show left on and running.

-

"That fuckin' bitch, embarrassing me like that in front of- move!" He mutters to himself as he strips of his disguise 'Mr. Marble', who the fuck even thinks of that, I mean really. A fucking marble is what I could come up with? I'm such a fucking idiot.

"Oh, hey. So Arlo- what the hell!?" Sasha backs up with a sour expression as Arlo shoves by, throwing off his wig and hat as if it was offending him to the highest degree.

"I don’t want to hear it Sacha, fuck off"

And, okay, rude. Arlo's an asshole and all, but he 's never been this bitter towards her, not even when… she's supposed to be his friend.

"Arlo-??"

But he's gone and out of sight before there's any more protest to be had.

-

With stomping feet he rushes past Sasha, save for their fucked interaction, but right now he just want to. Just doesn’t. He can feel like shit about talking to Sasha like that later, right now he just wants to get home and away from all this fucking coulor. Which, great. It was the uber driver that he'd had on the fucking show, way to go numbnuts. Walking home again, aren't you smart.

*

"I don’t want to be heere, my feet huuurt" he whines, tugging on his moms pant leg as he looks up to her with a pout. He never really liked the park, always had to play by himself in the sand. Nobody else wanted to play astronauts with him.

"Who don't you go play with the others, sweetie? I'm sure they wont mind, hun." His mother, Darla, sweetly says. A not-so-there smile on her face.

"But momm-"

"Arlo. You're a big boy now, go play with the others. Daddy said your his big strong boy, okay? Show 'em that you are." She says with a softer tone, bending down to wipe the mud off of Arlo's cheek with the reassurance. But even at six, Arlo knew that wasn't true. Mommy and Daddy fight all the time, Ms.Bory said so too.

With a huff and a deeper pout, he stomps off into the sand. His little feet making a small thud as he marches over to the swing set hoping to find a friend. But nothing's ever been easy for little Arlo, has it. Looking up from his journey to the swings, he sees a little girl getting pushed off some sort of box. So /that's/ where the music was coming from. But before he can come to that full realisation, he sees five kids ganging up on that girl and throwing hackey sacks at her. Her singing was nice, and he didn't like that it was gone now.

Without a second thought, he stands up as tall as he can, and stomps on over to the bullies. Punching one square in the nose just like he seen Daddy do to make the man at the arcade to give Arlo his tickets back. That man was loud, but so is he.

Nodding to himself he moves onto the next one and does the same thing. Quickly moving to punch the other in the gut, uppercutting the next just like he seen that wrestler guy do, and head butting the last boy. Daddys big, strong boy. Didn’t even cry this time, even if he hurt his nose hurting the last boy.

"Thank you, my hero!"

Arlo turn his head to see the girl stepping down off her box with a smile and an arm held out politely.

He nods a little to himself at seeing her and does the same, because that's the right thing he's supposed to do, right?

"I'm Arlo, Arlo Dittman" he says looking down to her hand before quickly remembering 'its not polite to not look someone in the eyes, sweetie'.

"Sacha, Sacha Barbican" the girl says with a grateful smile, shaking Arlo's hand.

"ARLO-!" A voice yells from across the park, breaking the peace and staring at the two as she approaches.

"Arlo, it's time to go, honey" she says with a sweeter… fake, tone. A cracked smile to match with it it, too.

Later that day, Arlo had Sacha over for dinner. Mom heard all about how he was a big boy today and helped Sacha from trouble, but dear old Dad wasn't having it. Especially not when Sacha went as far as to compliment Moms cooking.

"Oh fuck you, /she/ microwaved it-"

He knows better than to act shocked, but he thought that- he thought that his time might be different…

"It's because you haven't fixed the goddamn oven! I am so sick of-"

"OH IM GONNA KILL YA BITCH-!"

Turning to quickly grab Sacha's hand, he knew it was time to go when Mom and Dad started to reach for each others neck over the table. Mom said he wasn’t supposed to know that part happened.

"I'm sorry my Mom an Dad had too much juice today and became expressive.." he says with a slightly sad, but sorry, tone.

"Thank you for rescuing me from my two bad situations today" Sacha says, sitting across from him on the sidewalk with a cool-aid, one of the cool blue ones. But he always preferred the red.

"You can count on me Sacha" he says with a new smile as he raises his red cool-aid in the air to cheers, to celebrate getting out of their situations together.