#still though....i wish i could just go back and just stop it from happening.....
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etclouie · 2 days ago
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possibly for your celebration could i get 72 and 79 with mattheo please
˚୨୧⋆。 prompt/s; 72) “you’re not actually trying to convince me that was a friendly kiss, are you?” and 79) “i wish you’d give me a chance” — from 100 dialogue prompts
˚୨୧⋆。 warnings; mattheo x best friend!reader, secret pining, matt kisses reader, reader uses mattheo and matty interchangeably, that’s it i think
˚୨୧⋆。 a/n; if this is horribly ooc, mbmb
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— thank you for celebrating 600 with me || submissions are now closed
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the castles corridors were eerily quiet as you walked side by side with your best friend, Mattheo. the castle had its usual charm but tonight it felt different. 
there was an air of tension that neither of you could ignore. 
Mattheo’s usual smirk was absent and was replaced by something softer, more contemplative, though he still held that same dangerous allure.
you felt the weight of his gaze on you as you passed through the hallways, your heart racing slightly faster than it usually did but you ignored it. you had more important things to focus on, like your upcoming exam. 
“so,”
Mattheo broke the silence between you, his voice a mix of amusement and something you could t quite place. 
“are you actually going to study for that potions exam, or should i just plan to carry you through it?”
you rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow as you continued walking. 
“i can handle it, thanks. i don’t need a babysitter”
he barked out a laugh before he grinned, flashing you a ‘really?’ look. 
you’d stopped to turn to him, rolling your eyes as you caught the look on his face. crossing your arms over your chest as he spoke. 
“that’s what they all say, but you’ll be begging for my help when you fail”
he teased, which pulled a huff from you before you laughed alongside him. Mattheo always knew how to make you laugh, even on the worst days. 
“more like you’ll be begging for my help when you fail”
you countered, and his lips tugged into a frown momentarily. as much as he hated to admit it, you were right. potions wasn’t exactly his strongest suit. 
as you rounded a corner, the two of you slowed. something in the air had shifted and you noticed the change before he said anything. 
Mattheo’s usual smirk was long gone now, replaced by something serious. his posture stiffened, and his eyes met yours with an intensity that was unfamiliar. 
“Matty?”
you asked, using his nickname but being unable to mask the unease creeping into your voice. 
“there’s something i’ve been wanting to talk to you about”
his voice was low, hesitant even. a stark contrast to his usual cocky confidence which made you frown. 
you knew it had to be something really serious for him to have no cockiness about him. 
“what’s wrong?”
he didn’t answer immediately, instead he stepped closer. his gaze locked onto your lips made your heart skip a beat, and instinctively you took a step back. 
“Mattheo?”
you used his full name this time, in an attempt to get words out of him. but before you could process what was happening, he closed the gap between you. 
his hand reached up to your face, cradling your jaw and absentmindedly running his thumb across your cheek. 
“Mattheo, what—“
his lips pressed against yours in a swift unexpected kiss, effectively cutting you off mid sentence. 
you froze, every muscle in your body locking up. it wasn’t a friendly kiss, not in the slightest. it was something else entirely— a kiss full of intent, and you could feel it. as if every ounce of tension he had been carrying had poured into that single moment. 
when he pulled away, his face stayed inches from yours and his breath was warm against your skin. 
you stared at him wide eyed, trying to process what had just happened. 
“wait, hold on—“
you sputtered, backing up a few steps but he followed again. you kept backing up until your back hit the wall, Mattheo staying a hairs width away. 
“you’re not actually trying to convince me that was a friendly kiss, are you?”
Mattheo’s lips curled into a half smirk, but his eyes weren’t mocking. they were vulnerable..
“no”
he murmured, face staying inches from yours and his eyes searching yours. 
“not friendly. but i didn’t want to just tell you, i needed to show you”
your mind was spinning. the reality of the situation something akin to overwhelming. 
Mattheo Riddle — the same Mattheo who had always been the mysterious and somewhat unpredictable bad boy of Slytherin house — had just kissed you. 
and it wasn’t some quick, meaningless gesture. 
it wasn’t like the various flings and one night stands he’d told you all about, much to your dismay. 
it had been a kiss that made your pulse race and your heart skip. 
“why didn’t you just tell me?”
you managed to ask, your voice shaky as you continued. voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. 
“why now?”
Mattheo sighed, his expression softening even more. 
his left hand braced himself on the wall by your head, while the other cradled your face again. thumb drawing languid strokes across your cheek. 
“i’ve been trying to figure out the right time for ages, but there’s never been one. you’re my best friend. i’ve been hiding this from you and it’s been driving me insane”
he said in one breath, exhaling as the last word slipped before he sighed. 
his eyes even softer than before, his whole demeanour different. he seemed something akin to shy, though he’d never admit to it. 
“i wish you’d give me a chance”
your breath hitched. you looked up at him, struggling to find words to make sense of it all. 
it wasn’t that you didn’t care about him. of course you did, you always had. but the idea of shifting your entire relationship, of risking everything you’d built over the years—it scared you. 
“i don’t know what to say Matty”
you admitted, looking away and staring at the ground trying to sort through your jumbled thoughts. 
his hand holding your face tilted your gaze back up to him, his eyes pleading as they met yours. 
“you don’t have to say anything now. i just.. i need you to know how i feel, i wish you’d give me a chance”
you swallowed hard. 
could you really take that step? could you allow yourself to risk everything for a chance at something that could be so much more?
your eyes stayed locked with his, the same glint as before swimming around in his eyes and it made you realise one thing. you’d never seen him this open or this vulnerable. 
the Mattheo you knew was always guarded, always playing some game. but now, it was just him — bare and raw — and something inside you shifted. 
“i don’t know what’ll happen Mattheo,”
you whispered, voice quieter than you had intended it to be. 
“but i’ll think about it”
Mattheo’s face lit up with a rare, genuine smile— his relief palpable. 
“that’s all i’m asking for. just a chance, that’s all i need”
he said softly, and you believed him. 
for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel the need to run from him. you didn’t need the answers right away, but maybe just maybe, it was time to give him that chance. 
as you both stood there, the weight of the moment sinking in, you could almost hear the unspoken promise between you. 
this was only the beginning. 
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⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
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apomaro-mellow · 1 day ago
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the govt gets kas!eddie 4
part 3
Steve typically found it so easy to get lost in Eddie. It wasn't always easy to steal moments alone. The walls of the trailer were thin and his house wasn't always an option. It got to the point where they had tried to use the Scoops Ahoy freezer but it hadn't been worth it. The point is, when they got hot and ready, they usually went right for it, knowing they might not get another chance alone for a while.
But this time, as Eddie was thrusting his hips against him, Steve did his very best to keep his head above water. Not only was his boyfriend's new breeding endeavor a lost cause, but Dustin was screaming in his ear.
"Steve! Steve! STEVE SAY SOMETHING DID HE EAT YOU!?"
Eddie growled at the noise and Steve quickly pushed the button. "I'm fine! I'm fine! I'm just-Eddie, Eddie stop-Jesus stop!" The annoyed tone in his voice turned to breathy laughter instead as Eddie started to lick his neck.
Getting Eddie to stop took just a bit more, but finally he was able to get him to pause. He didn't remove himself from Steve though. He remained on top of him, looking like a dog that was told not to eat a treat that was right in front of them.
Eddie could be patient. He could wait. Wait until his mate was ready. But then he started taking too long. Was talking for too long. Eddie rubbed his face against his belly, thinking of it growing, getting round, filled with babies.
Then Steve was getting up. Eddie whined, prompting Steve to touch his cheek while he continued to talk, although it sounded more like arguing the longer it went. Then Steve was on his feet, walking around, then he was walking to the door-
NO
Eddie was on him in seconds, pinning him to the door. "Need you. Need you here."
"Eddie. Eddie listen to me. I have to go."
"No."
"Eddie...I'm not leaving you." Steve cradled his face. "We're going to bring you home."
That made Eddie pause. And Steve's touches didn't hurt either. "Home...you and, you and Wayne?"
"Yes", Steve nodded.
Then he leaned in and kissed Eddie's nose. That pulled a new sound from him. Like a trill from the back of his throat. It was cute. And enough to let him release Steve. Mission in mind, Steve returned to the others. By the time he did, the cameras were back on Eddie.
"What did you do?", Dustin asked the moment he got back.
"Don't worry about it", Steve said. "We need to get Eddie out of here."
"I agree", Wayne said, arms crossed.
And then negotiations began. Because of course the government was absolutely against letting him free but they had to admit that the creature seemed much more calm after Steve had spent some time with it. And a few of the scientists already had their theories on what had happened with the cameras off. Steve could only fix his hair and clothes so much.
They didn't get what they wanted right away. It took a few days of Steve and Wayne coming back to argue their case before Eddie was finally transported to Steve's house under cover of night. Steve had told Wayne beforehand that he was more than welcome to stay too. Wayne declined, thanking him and saying he'd visit, but that he'd give the newlyweds at least one night alone.
Steve still couldn't believe that Wayne had known this whole time. But he never would have gotten this second chance with Eddie had his uncle not been aware.
And then they were alone.
Steve thought Eddie had been practicing patience but instead he'd just been very busy. It was another sign that his Eddie was still in there. His Eddie could never sit still for long. And this version of him remembered where some things were. That was the only explanation for how he'd begun to gather pillows and blankets and bring them to the living room.
Steve just watched him for a moment, wishing he had a camera in hand to capture this. Eddie spotted him and perked up then. Then, before Steve knew it, he was scooped up in his arms and carried over into the soft pile.
"Nest for mate. Nest for pups", he said. "Do you...like it?"
It was a pile of blankets in the middle of his living room. But it was soft. He nodded. "Yes, I like it Eddie."
Eddie cooed and hugged Steve tight. He nuzzled his neck. Steve allowed himself to relax. There weren't soldiers or monsters outside. He finally had Eddie all to himself. All of his feelings since the funeral began to wash over him like crashing waves. He sniffled a little and he held Eddie tight.
He didn't think he'd ever get to do this again. Eddie picked up on his mood change and touched his cheek.
"Steve?"
He looked up to meet Eddie's eyes. "Eddie, I love you. I never stopped loving you and I'm so-I'm so goddamn happy that you're alive."
Eddie made a sound from his chest. One that sounded like uncertainty. "Even...even like this?"
Steve's fingers brushed over his cheeks. There were sharp fangs now, and something feral in his eyes now. But he was still the one who had captured his heart.
"You haven't changed a bit."
He kissed Eddie then, fully on the mouth and suddenly his boyfriend's entire weight was on top of him. Eddie worked his legs apart. He purred against Steve's mouth and pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.
"Mate?"
And, well, call Steve weak because he was skeptical that anything would come of it, but he was intrigued by the prospect of it. He gave a slow nod and spread his legs even more. Right away, Eddie slid down his body and began to nose as his crotch. Steve whimpered. It didn't take much to turn him on but Eddie was working over time.
Steve appreciated it because he was sure when morning came he'd have a dozen people at his doorstep.
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scary-grace · 1 day ago
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if my heart was a house (chapter 2) - a shigaraki x f!reader fic
It's been nineteen years since Tomura was sentenced to death, and you've built a life in the space he left behind, braced each day for the worst. You're prepared for everything - the questions your daughter asks, the memories that sting a little more in the winter, the specter of the news you've been afraid of for years. But of all the things life's thrown your way, it's the one you haven't dared to hope for might be the one thing you can't handle. (cross-posted to Ao3) The prequel can be found here: what I can't remember nowwritten for @pixelcafe-network's Challenge Friday event! Banner/divider by @cafekitsune
Chapter 1
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Chapter 2
It’s freezing when you step out of the community center, and only the fact that Chihiro’s waiting for you to pick her up at school prevents you from going right back in and borrowing a scarf and gloves from the bin of spares. You knew you should have dressed more warmly, but you didn’t realize there’d be so much wind. By the time you make to the car, your teeth are chattering, and the car always takes longer to warm up than you want it to. You moved to Hokkaido nineteen years ago because it was the last place anyone would look for you, and no one’s found you yet. You just wish the price of privacy didn’t include freezing your ass off in the moonless polar night.
You think Chihiro worries about you a little less lately. You’ve gone to a month of pottery classes, and you make sure to respond to messages in the PTA moms’ group text every so often, and once when Kaori’s crazy mom asked you to get tea, you agreed. You left that conversation feeling like you’d been through a tornado, but the important thing is that you’re trying. That Chihiro sees you trying. That when she moves away for school, her worry for you won’t hold her back.
Her comment about you not having friends hit a little too close to home, and it’s still hanging around in your head. You used to have friends — Tomura’s friends, and some of your own. You loved them. You know they loved you. Half the reason you survived Tomura’s arrest and trial was because they were with you, suffering the same way, helpless to stop anything that was happening and trying all the same. Knowing all of that, it makes even less sense that you ran from them afterward.
But that’s always been who you are. When you’re hurt, when you’re scared, when you’re sad, you pull back from the world. You don’t like having your feelings where other people could see, and if you didn’t like having your feelings in front of anybody, there was no way you were having your baby in front of Tomura’s friends. You weren’t interested in how they felt about it. You didn’t want to hear what they’d say. And you didn’t want them involved, constantly circling, reminding you of everything you lost. Reminding your baby, once they were old enough to understand. Your new new job (you lost the first new one), your apartment, your friends, your city — it all started to feel like a prison. You could run, so you did.
Lately, though, you’ve been thinking about them. Enough to look them up and see that Toga’s a fairly well-known costume designer, and wish you could talk sewing with her; find out that Dabi’s doing okay, when you’d been worried ever since you met him that he’d wind up in prison; learn that Spinner’s a writer with a popular series of detective novels, famous for mercilessly skewering the police over their incompetence and corruption. You’ve thought about reaching out, seeing if they know anything about Tomura’s situation, if they’ve heard anything from him. Then you decided it wasn’t worth it. You don’t want to find out that he’s spent nineteen years talking to them and not to you.
Your car finally warms up. You take a deep breath, shove the thought of your old friends away, and drive.
Someone’s car spun out on the route you planned to take to the high school, and you call Chihiro to let her know you’ll be a little late. She doesn’t answer, but she probably just busy. The choir director is kind of a hardass, but Chihiro worships the ground she walks on, and she’d never interrupt a rehearsal for something like a call from her probably-clingy mom. You are a little clingy. You just don’t ever want her to wonder where you are. To spend even a second doubting that you’ll be there when she needs you.
You get to the school, park, and switch idly between channels on the radio, skipping away whenever you hear a snatch of the news. The choir kids trickle out of school slowly, talking through chattering teeth, and scatter to their parents’ cars. You watch for Chihiro, knowing that she stays late to talk to the choir director sometimes. But then the lights in the music room go out. The choir director steps out, locking the door behind her, and fear like you’ve never experienced in your life floods through you.
It feels like acid in your veins. You lurch out of your car and get in the director’s way as she heads for hers. “Where’s Chihiro?”
“She left at the break,” the director says. “Typically I don’t allow it, but she’s an excellent student and she’s never asked before —”
Chihiro left. Chihiro left school an hour ago. You can barely speak. “What happened? Did she get sick? Why didn’t you call me —”
“She said she would,” the director says, bewildered. “She didn’t?”
“If she’d called me, I’d have picked her up already.” Your voice stutters, fractures. “What happened?”
“She and her friends were discussing something. A news article, I think. I doubt that’s what caused it.” The director is frowning now, disconcerted to your terrified. “When we resumed practice, she was distraught, and asked to be excused early.”
Distraught. You’ve never heard anybody use that word to describe your daughter. “Did she say why?”
“She needed to go home. She said it was a family emergency.”
A family emergency? You’re her family. Your parents passed away when she was in middle school and you and your brother haven’t spoken in years. What family is she talking about? You don’t need that answer right now. You need to find her. “Thank you,” you choke out, and run back to your car.
You and she live five miles outside of town — on a big road that gets plowed and salted, sure, but still outside of town. Could she walk all the way home in an hour? You don’t think so. Not in this weather. And you can’t think of anywhere else she would go. You drive slowly, carefully along the road, your heart rising into your throat at each bend in the road and sinking when the stretch of road ahead of you continues to be empty. Your mind twists in agony. A family emergency. What does that even mean? It crosses your mind that it’s the perfect excuse, one no teacher would ever refuse a student like Chihiro — but why wouldn’t she call you? Why would she start walking home in the dark? What is there that she thinks she can’t bring to you, that you wouldn’t help her with? You’d do anything for her. You just have to find her, and you’ll figure it out.
You catch up to her halfway home, her hands jammed into her pockets and her shoulders hunched against the cold, her breath billowing out in a frozen cloud. The relief of finding her lasts for only a second. Now you need to get her home. You flip on your hazard lights and slow to a crawl alongside her, rolling down your window. “Chihiro, get in the car!”
She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look your way. “I’m so glad I found you, but I don’t understand,” you say. “You must be freezing. Why didn’t you call me? I was so scared –”
You’re making this about you. It’s not about you. “Chihiro, please get in the car. I just want you to be safe. I love you —”
“Shut up!” She wheels on you, and you hit the brakes, more in shock than anything else. Your daughter’s eyes are swollen and bloodshot with tears, and her lips are cracked and bleeding in the cold. Her mouth is turned down like you haven’t seen it in more than a decade, but her eyes are hot with rage. “Don’t come near me. Don’t even talk to me. I didn’t call you because I hate you. I hate you! How could you do that to me?”
“Do what?” you ask.
“Lie,” Chihiro spits, or sobs. “How long were you going to lie to me, Mom? Were you ever going to tell me the truth about my dad?”
Your stomach drops. How did she find out? How many people know? “I never lied,” you say. “I never told you he was dead. I always told you —”
“He’s gone.” Chihiro’s nose is dripping. She looks frozen. “Don’t play that stupid game. You knew what I thought you meant when you say that, and you just let me think — you were always going to let me think he was —”
“How did you find out?”
“That’s all you care about? I hate you —”
Right now, you hate yourself, too. It hurts to hear Chihiro say that, hurts to know she’s so angry with you that she’d rather freeze than spend even a second in the car with you — but your feelings don’t matter right now. They stopped mattering nineteen years ago. This is about your daughter. You shove your feelings to one side. “You hate me,” you repeat, and she scoffs. “You can hate me just as much in the car as you can out there, and the car is warm.”
Chihiro squints at you as she wipes her eyes. “It’s not that far. I can walk.”
“Yeah. But it’ll take you another hour, and it’ll just keep getting colder.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I won’t try to talk to you. In the car or when we’re home. Just — please, get in the car, Chihiro. You don’t have to hurt yourself to let me know you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry, Mom. This is way beyond angry.” Chihiro takes a deep breath and coughs on the cold air. “If you try to talk to me, I’m getting out again.”
You don’t deserve to feel relieved, but you do. You put the car in park and unlock the passenger-side door. “Okay.”
The drive home is awful, but at least it’s brief. The first thing Chihiro does after taking off her shoes and coat is head straight for the bathroom. The water switches on in the shower, and you’ll bet it’s scalding hot. She must be so cold. And so angry with you, angry enough to override her better judgment and drive her out onto the road alone. Is she right about you? Were you ever going to tell her the truth about Tomura? You don’t know. But you should have seen this coming, somehow. You could have seen it coming, would have, if you were doing anything but hiding from your own pain. Of course Chihiro’s furious with you. You deserve it.
Deserving it doesn’t make it hurt any less, so like always, you find something to keep you busy. You set out clean pajamas for Chihiro on her bed. Then you finish folding the laundry, emptying the dishwasher, folding the quilts that are still strewn across the couch from Chihiro’s movie night with Kaori over the weekend. After that it’s time to sew, and even with the focus paper-piecing takes and the noise of the sewing machine, you can’t shut out a single question: How did she find out?
The water in the shower shuts off. You hear Chihiro’s footsteps in the hallway, then the sound of her bedroom door shutting. Shutting, not slamming. You abandon your sewing machine, planning to go to your bedroom and stay there, leaving her the kitchen and the living room and not coming out until she goes to sleep. You don’t want her to have to look at you. Or maybe you just don’t want to see how she looks at you now.
The thought stops you at the threshold. You’ve made everything about what’s happened into something about you. Who are you helping by going to hide? Yourself. You’re protecting yourself from your daughter’s anger, which she deserves to express, and from the questions she probably wants to ask, which you should have answered a long time ago. You can’t hide. You need to stay here and be the person — the parent — you should have been all along. Even if it’s too late.
You hear the bedroom door open, but you don’t turn, and Chihiro comes closer with soft footsteps. She stops at the edge of the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
“Making hot chocolate. Do you want some?”
“You’re being weird,” Chihiro says. She sounds unnerved. “I told you I hate you. Why aren’t you yelling? You’re not even crying. Do you even care?”
Your heart breaks a little bit, even as a surge of frustration rocks you. “It hurts to hear you say that,” you admit. No more lying. From here on out, you tell the truth. “But I don’t think it hurts as much as finding out your mom’s been lying to you for eighteen years.”
Chihiro’s quiet. She’s quiet, and you’re not trying to downplay what you did or run away from it, so you ask a question of your own. “How did you find out?”
The electric kettle goes off with a click. “The water’s done,” Chihiro says. “Are you making hot chocolate or not?”
She reminds you so much of Tomura — that same bluntness, that same impatience, that same affinity for cutting the knot. “Yeah. And some for you.”
Once you’ve both got your cups, you head to the living room. Chihiro unfolds all the blankets you folded earlier and burrows into them, and you sit in the armchair and pull your feet up and away from the floor. She watches you over the rim of her cup. “It’s weird when you do that,” she says. “It makes you look really young.”
It’s quiet for a second. “I guess you are kind of young. They said in school that most people don’t have kids until they’re thirty, and you were only twenty-two when you had me.”
“Yeah,” you say. “Four years older than you.”
It sounds wrong when you say it. Too young. Way too young. Chihiro looks unsettled. “I wouldn’t have a kid when I was twenty-two,” she says. “Why did you?”
You take a sip of hot chocolate, trying to calm your nerves. “I’ll tell you that and everything else. I want to know how you found out first.”
Chihiro’s eyes narrow, but to your surprise, she answers. “Takako at school — she watches that true-crime show. The one you don’t let me watch.”
“I never said you couldn’t watch it. I just said not on the TV out here,” you say. Chihiro rolls her eyes. “Your computer in your room is fair game.”
“My computer doesn’t get cable.”
“So pirate it,” you say with a shrug, and Chihiro nearly chokes on her next sip of hot chocolate. “I never said you couldn’t watch it at all.”
“Yeah. Like you never actually said my dad was dead,” Chihiro says. Ouch. “Do you want me to tell you or what? She watches that show, and you’re not the only mom who’s weird about it, so she tells us all about the episodes when they come out. I guess this week’s episode was about this guy Shigaraki Tomura who killed his whole family, and how he’s been on death row longer than anybody else in Japan. So we looked him up to see if he’s still alive — I guess the episodes get made in advance — and there were pictures of him at his trial. He has the same birthmark I do.”
You nod. “And the same eyes. Ever since you were a baby.”
Chihiro looks down into her cup. “One of my friends joked about it. I thought it was funny, so I laughed. But then I was thinking about it, and the — timing, I guess. And I realized you never said he was dead. My whole life, that was what I thought, but it wasn’t what you said.”
She takes another sip of hot chocolate. “I was looking at the pictures. From the trial, and you were in them. Your hair looked different, but I knew it was you. And I guess I — there was this one picture. From his sentencing. You’re holding his hands.”
You hadn’t realized someone snapped a photo, but you should have known. Your fingers still ache from the memory. Chihiro looks up, her eyes glassy again. “It’s him, isn’t it? My dad’s Shigaraki Tomura.”
“That’s him,” you say. You can’t call your voice steady. Flat might be better. “What do you want to know?”
“Why,” Chihiro says at once. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There were a lot of reasons,” you say. “I think my main one was trying to protect you.”
“From him?”
“No,” you say. “From everybody else. I don’t know if you read any of the articles about the trial, but the way they talked about him — and about me — was awful. People treated me differently, and I was just his girlfriend. I didn’t want anybody to do anything to you because of who your father was.”
“I got in fights anyway. Because I didn’t have a dad.” Chihiro’s voice is dull. “Maybe if they’d known who he was it would have been different.”
“Maybe.” You take a sip of your own hot chocolate, even though it’s getting hard to swallow. “That was part of it. Part of it was that I didn’t want you to grow up with that hanging over your head. Knowing that your dad was on death row and not even being able to visit him.”
“You said he didn’t know about me. Was that a lie, too?”
“I tried to tell him,” you say. “I called, and wrote letters, and tried to visit — he never wanted to see me. And he never answered.”
Your voice wavers slightly. You don’t try to fight it. Fighting it makes it worse. “I wanted to. He wouldn’t let me.”
Chihiro looks disturbed. “So that picture —”
“That’s the last time I saw him,” you say, and Chihiro’s expression collapses. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry about that.” Chihiro lets go of her cup to wipe her eyes. “Why else didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was selfish,” you say. It hurts to admit it, to admit that what you swore you were doing for Chihiro’s own good was for you all along. But you have to be honest. You’ve lied to her, by omission or on purpose, enough for a lifetime. “I didn’t want to think about what happened. Any of it. And if you didn’t know — if nobody knew — then I wouldn’t have to talk about it ever again.”
Chihiro wipes her eyes a second time. You keep talking, your throat aching more in every word. “I didn’t wake up one morning and decide not to tell you about Tomura. It just happened —”
“And kept happening. For eighteen years.”
She’s not going to let you get away with anything. The fact that you know she shouldn’t doesn’t make it any less frustrating. “Yeah. Eighteen years. I did it because it would make things easier, for me. Because it wouldn’t hurt as much, for me. I was thinking a lot about me and I should have been thinking about you.”
Chihiro looks away. “Do you think he did it?”
“Chihiro —”
“He confessed,” Chihiro says. “He said he did it.”
Yeah, Tomura confessed. They interrogated him for twenty days straight before they got anything out of him, and when you came to visit him again before the trial, he looked like something had broken inside of him. He seemed out of it, too. He barely recognized you, barely knew you were there. You don’t know what they did to him in there, but you trust that confession even less than you trust the testimony his adoptive father gave. “He confessed,” Chihiro repeats, her voice rising. She fumbles her phone out of her pocket, unlocks it one-handed. “Do you think he did it?”
She’s looking something up. You remember all at once how Chihiro stumbled on him in the first place. “Did they execute him? Chihiro, tell me —”
“Do you think he did it?” she demands, and you shake your head. You were there at the trial. Every day. You never saw anything that made you believe he was guilty. Chihiro squeezes her eyes shut and holds out her phone towards you. “You were right.”
Some part of you registers what she just said, but it doesn’t stick. It bounces off the surface and vanishes, because Chihiro has a news site open, with a bright red BREAKING NEWS banner across the top. SHIGARAKI TOMURA EXONERATED AFTER NINETEEN YEARS ON DEATH ROW.
You spend one wild second panicking at the sight of an “ex” word in the same sentence as Tomura’s name and “death row”, but then you force yourself to go back. Exonerated. Not executed, exonerated. You lift the phone out of Chihiro’s hands and she lets you take it — with a caveat. “Read it out loud, okay? So I know we both saw the same thing.”
You start reading, your voice rattling. “In a time of rising crime, escalating drug trafficking, and a loss of trust in our institutions, the accused mass murderer Shigaraki Tomura became the avatar for Japan’s worst nightmares: A remorseless killer, hiding amongst the innocent, ready to strike at any time. Those who questioned the scant evidence the prosecutor provided were ridiculed. Those who believed that his confession to the murders of his parents, his grandparents, and his older sister was the product of coercion were reviled. Nineteen years later, they and the man they spoke up for have seen justice served.”
Your eyes are burning. You blink back tears and keep reading. “In a stunning but well-reasoned decision released on Monday afternoon, the Supreme Court reversed all seven murder convictions against Shigaraki Tomura in light of new evidence uncovered in the course of an entirely different investigation. Midoriya Izuku, a prosecutor turned human-rights advocate, became interested in Shigaraki’s case while working to restore another inmate’s right to visits from his adoptive father — fuck!”
Chihiro looks up. “Huh?”
“Sorry. It’s just — he called me,” you say. “Midoriya Izuku. He’s been calling. I didn’t know why.”
“It’s weird when you swear,” Chihiro notes. You mumble an apology. “Keep reading.”
“Upon reviewing the available evidence and pursuing new investigations, Midoriya made a motion for a retrial, which was granted by the Supreme Court and conducted under terms of absolute secrecy in order to avoid the media circus that ensued during Shigaraki’s original trial. The Court has agreed to release all documents related to Shigaraki’s case and is expected to do so within the next twenty-four hours. Some sources have indicated that a different suspect in the Shimura family’s murders has already been taken into custody, but no official confirmation has been received.”
Your hands are shaking now, so hard you almost drop Chihiro’s phone in your cup of hot chocolate. “Mom?” Chihiro says, and you look up, blinking hard. “Do you know who they arrested?”
Your first inclination is to ask why she thinks you of all people would know, but you clamp down on that. Even though the world’s just been yanked out from beneath your feet, your daughter is still the injured party. And when you think about it, you do have some idea of who it is. “His adoptive dad. He was the one who had custody of Tomura when the murders happened, and he was really excited to cooperate with the investigation.”
“Custody?” Chihiro repeats. “How old was he when he — when they died?”
“Fifteen,” you say. “If you’re older than fourteen when you commit a crime, they can try you as an adult.”
“You think his fake dad set him up,” Chihiro says. You nod. “Is there more to read?”
“A little bit.”
Chihiro scoots over on the couch, making a space, and you sit down next to her. She has to wake up her phone again for you to keep reading, and you get the jumpscare of SHIGARAKI TOMURA EX- a second time before scrolling down to where you left off. “Although a release date has not been announced publicly, it is the view of this magazine that Shigaraki should be released from prison as quickly as possible. He has paid a debt to society that was never owed in the first place. When Shigaraki Tomura is released from Fuchu Prison, he will walk out a free man. Society’s atonement for the crime it committed against him is only beginning.”
You glance at the byline out of habit. This article was written by Kizuki Chitose, and if you remember right, the last article she wrote about Tomura struck a pretty different note. She’d better start atoning right now. You’d be happy to help. Balling up every single scathing editorial and hit job she wrote and jamming them down her throat feels like it would be a good start.
“It’s real,” Chihiro says. You nod. “He’s getting out.”
You nod again. You’re with Kizuki on wanting Tomura to be released as quickly as possible. You’re just not sure what happens next.
Chihiro’s thinking along the same lines. “Mom, what are we going to do?”
“We’ll figure it out,” you promise her. She leans in against your side, and some horrible part of you exults. With the chaos that’s about to unfold, Chihiro can’t afford to hate you any longer — or if you stop thinking about it like an asshole, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen and you’re the person she turns to. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know any more than she does. You’re the adult, but something happened to you when you read that headline. Somehow it feels like no time has passed at all; like he was just torn away from you, like you’re a lonely, hopeless twenty-two-year-old with a baby on the way all over again.
But you aren’t. You made it this far. Your baby turned eighteen this year, and you managed to raise her close enough to right. “We’ll figure it out,” you promise her again. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
“Maybe you were right,” Chihiro mumbles. “It would have been harder if I knew all this time.”
You think so. It’s still not an excuse. You wrap your arm around your daughter’s shoulders and hug her closer, relieved beyond words when she doesn’t pull away. You’ll take care of her first — make sure she eats, make sure she gets some sleep, because you know from experience how much harder everything becomes without it. And after she’s fallen asleep, you’ll finally return Midoriya Izuku’s calls.
<- Chapter 1
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mya-valentine · 17 hours ago
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Wild Hearts, Tender Hands
Synopsis: Sanemi Shinazugawa, rough-edged and volatile, finds an unexpected solace in you—a calm yet strong presence unafraid of his temper or scars. Through fiery arguments, tender moments, and shared battles, the two of you navigate a love forged in resilience and passion, proving that even the fiercest hearts can find peace in another.
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Sanemi Shinazugawa wasn’t the kind of man people felt at ease around. His sharp tongue, volatile temper, and cold exterior kept most at a distance. That suited him just fine; he didn’t want anyone getting close. Getting close meant getting hurt—or worse.
But you were different.
You were soft in a way that felt almost foreign to him. It wasn’t weakness—no, you weren’t weak. You had strength, but it was a quiet kind of strength. You didn’t need to raise your voice to be heard. You didn’t wield a sword to prove your worth. You had a way of standing your ground without breaking the people around you, and Sanemi hated how much it fascinated him.
Hated, because it made him notice you.
The first time you met, he had been drenched in blood—none of it his own. His uniform was torn, his hair wild, and his scarred hands still gripped his Nichirin blade as if another demon might emerge at any second. You had been among the villagers who had survived the attack, kneeling by an injured child, your hands steady as you worked to bind a wound.
“You.” His voice had been rough, almost accusatory. “What the hell are you doing here?”
You glanced up at him, unfazed by his tone. “Helping,” you replied simply.
Sanemi bristled. “This isn’t your job. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
You didn’t back down. “And who’s going to help these people if I don’t? You?”
For a moment, he was struck silent. Most people cowered when he barked at them, but you met his glare head-on, your eyes steady. It wasn’t defiance, not really. It was conviction.
He didn’t know what to make of it.
Sanemi told himself he didn’t care what happened to you. People like you didn’t last long in a world like this, and he didn’t need the distraction. But every time he saw you, his resolve wavered.
You had a habit of showing up where you weren’t supposed to be—patching up wounded slayers after battles, delivering supplies to remote villages, always putting yourself in danger for the sake of others. It infuriated him.
“Do you have a death wish or something?” he snapped one evening after dragging you away from a demon attack.
“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back, brushing dirt off your clothes.
He stared at you, stunned into silence by your audacity.
“I’m serious,” you continued. “You throw yourself into danger like your life doesn’t matter. Why is that?”
His jaw clenched. “Because it doesn’t.”
The words hung in the air like a challenge, but you didn’t rise to it. Instead, you stepped closer, your gaze softening. “It matters to someone,” you said quietly.
Sanemi hated how much your words affected him.
It took time for him to let you in. Sanemi wasn’t used to softness, to kindness without an ulterior motive. He didn’t know how to accept it, much less return it. But you were patient, meeting his barbed words with calm understanding, his rough edges with quiet strength.
At first, he kept his distance, watching you from afar. You never demanded anything from him, never pushed too hard. You were just… there. A steady presence that somehow made the world feel a little less unbearable.
He found himself seeking you out without realizing it. After missions, he’d stop by to “check on the others” but end up lingering near you. If anyone pointed it out, he’d snap at them, his ears turning red.
You never teased him about it, though. You didn’t need to. The way you looked at him, like you could see through all the anger and pain to the person he tried so hard to bury, was enough to unsettle him.
The night everything changed, Sanemi had come back from a mission more battered than usual. His uniform was shredded, his arms covered in fresh scars. You’d been waiting for him, as you often did, ready with bandages and a scolding.
“What the hell were you thinking?” you demanded as you cleaned the gash on his shoulder.
“I was thinking about killing the damn demon,” he growled, wincing as your fingers brushed over his skin.
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Sanemi,” you said, your voice trembling with frustration. “You act like your life doesn’t matter, but it does—to me, at least.”
He froze, his breath catching in his throat.
You looked away, your hands falling to your lap. “I know you think you don’t deserve to be cared for, but you do. And I—” You hesitated, biting your lip. “I care about you. More than I should.”
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, before you could say anything else, Sanemi reached out, his hand rough but gentle as it cupped your cheek.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice low and raw. “Don’t waste your time on someone like me.”
But you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into his touch, your eyes meeting his. “Let me decide what’s worth my time.”
Loving Sanemi was like loving a wildfire. He burned bright and fierce, his passion all-consuming. But you had a way of softening his edges, of reminding him that there was more to life than fighting and pain.
He didn’t always know how to show it, but he loved you fiercely in return. He loved the way you stood your ground, even against him. He loved the way your hands were always warm, always steady, no matter how chaotic the world around you was. He loved the way you looked at him, like he was something worth saving.
You fought often—Sanemi’s temper and your stubbornness made sure of that. But no matter how heated the argument, you always found your way back to each other.
“You’re impossible,” you muttered one night after he’d stormed out and returned an hour later, his shoulders slumping as he mumbled an apology.
“And you’re too damn patient,” he shot back, his lips quirking into a small, reluctant smile.
Life with Sanemi was never easy, but it was worth it. Together, you weathered every storm, every battle, every heartbreak. He taught you to fight, to wield a blade with precision and purpose. You taught him to trust, to let himself be vulnerable.
And in the quiet moments—when the world wasn’t falling apart and the weight of his duty didn’t feel so crushing—Sanemi allowed himself to dream of a future with you. A future where he didn’t have to fight anymore, where he could finally let go of his anger and just… be.
You were his anchor, his sanctuary, the only thing in this world that made him feel whole. And no matter how many demons he faced, no matter how many scars he carried, he knew one thing for certain:
He would fight for you. Always.
.
.
.
Masterlist
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hachikos · 2 years ago
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i miss my grandpa so much i wish he was still here
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snootlestheangel · 3 months ago
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This might sound attention seeking so I'm sorry if it does, it is not my intention, I am just looking for a distraction.
Since my anxiety is actively trying to kill me, I'd really appreciate some asks or something
The more bizarre the question, the better, but I'll take things for my wips or ocs
Just anything to distract me from the fact I feel rather miserable lately
*i get sappy in the tags*
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vamptastic · 2 months ago
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now that i know abt my blood sugar problems i'm thinking back to times as a kid (post-puberty cos it's from the pcos) and it's like ohh this may have been a problem for years. i used to throw up every time i drank an artificial cherry flavored drink and thinking back it wasn't actually every time and i'm guessing it may have been just that i rarely drank or ate things high in sugar so the few cherry-related incidents were hypoglycemia that i formed a false correlation around. i also get sick every time i take a plane ride, like almost immediately upon arriving at my destination or towards the end of the flight, and i think while some of it has just been genuinely being ill from my ass immune system it definitely could also be hypoglycemia from not sleeping or eating enough in advance of or when traveling. i also got into the habit of drinking something with ginger when nauseous which is usually ginger ale bc it's easier than brewing tes and while ginger does just generally help for nausea those bouts of random nausea could definitely be blood sugar and the soda would obviously help with that.
idk it's tough bc i only got tested for this once when i was 13, and they were mostly looking for thyroid problems and only incidentally tested for diabetes/insulin resistance markers, until my shit started getting bad around 17 and i finally got thorough testing. i also wonder if it was worse a year or so before the testing because i went on birth control the year before and with the PCOS being the main cause that could've helped with my blood sugar levels. i don't have enough data and what i do have i don't really know what it means other than that i probably will get diabetes if i don't actively try not to.
just looking back i started getting random spells of dizziness and nausea and hot flashes around age 11 with it progressively getting worse till i started dealing with it around 16 and i wonder if a lot of that illness wasn't from the underlying issue ive had the whole time. some of it was definitely hormones but i think i may have basically just been attributing it all to anything But hypoglycemia because the thought that i could have something as serious as diabetes wasn't even on my radar and i wasn't tracking anything in relation to when i was eating.
like diabetes is a slow process of the pancreas failing, right? i'm oversimplifying but like over time your body stops responding to and/or producing insulin properly. and mine already doesn't respond to insulin properly but just not to an extent where my body is fully incapable of producing and using insulin without external insulin pills/injections. and idk where that puts me in terms of am i or am i not diabetic and should i be dieting like a diabetic person and trying to manage my blood sugar like one or will that just make it worse.
#like obviously in the immediate moment it's just ok im gonna pass out and maybe die if I don't drink some juice rn. i will drink juice#but i keep feeling like i must be doing smth wrong because i just keep crashing more and more often#i don't THINK it's from the metformin i think it's that it's always happened and i just notice now#bc I've been seeing an endocrinologist and actually reporting and getting feedback on my symptoms#the same way i had super obvious PMDD but didn't put it together until i stopped having periods and the mood swings went away#but im still like what if im basically on this diabetes medication when im not supposed to be and it's making my blood sugar too low#even though i know it WAS too high before and it was gonna eventually give me diabetes#but i didn't crash as much#and it could also just be that whatever is wrong w me happens to be getting worse around the same time I'm starting treatment#cos I didn't have it until like a year into the meds and i haven't changed dosage or anything#and i know late teens early 20s are when lots of chronic illnesses start to show symptoms although diabetes skews older#idk. idkkkkk. it's really frustrating i just wanna know what's wrong with me and if what im doing is helping#and i have to keep just testing my blood every 3 months hoping i still look better on paper not knowing if shit is working#like idk i guess id rather deal with occasional hypoglycemia than risk going into a coma or blindness from t2#but this sucks rn and i wish i could go back to being healthy or at least not realizing i was sick
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all4yoi · 4 months ago
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𝒩ot a bet﹕hyung line
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𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's 😞, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )
sypnosis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.
part one !
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★ LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )
"y/n wait!"
heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.
"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.
he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.
"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.
heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.
when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.
it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.
they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. — more under the cut!
so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.
he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.
he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.
he needed to fix this, asap.
it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.
"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.
"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.
you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.
"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."
"why would they say that then?"
"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.
heeseung stepped closer.
"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.
"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."
you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.
he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'
"heeseung.."
"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."
you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.
"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.
"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.
"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."
★ PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )
jay was confused.
the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.
he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.
throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.
walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.
"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"
that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"
"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.
"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.
"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.
he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.
jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.
he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.
your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."
jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.
"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.
"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.
"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.
this way he knew how he'd make things better.
"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.
right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?
"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.
he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.
"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"
you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.
"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.
jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.
"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."
"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.
"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."
new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.
"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.
"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.
"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."
★ SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )
jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.
he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.
"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.
jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.
he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.
it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.
but jokes were meant to be funny, right?
jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.
your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.
"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.
"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.
jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.
and he hated that.
"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."
"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.
"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.
"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.
"you promise?"
"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."
★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)
sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.
it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.
it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.
that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.
guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.
he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.
i deserve it.
he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.
"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.
"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"
sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.
"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.
"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.
"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.
"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."
your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."
"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.
"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."
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— ౨ৎ thank u for tuning in ! @j-jinxee @slp23 @unsurereader @heelovesmeknot @sunshine-skz @hoondrop @jooniesbears-blog @jordan1024 @heeswif3y @outroherrr @harufluff @cheeseball0 @yjwluver @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @itjengirl @emiliasstuffs-blog @isa942572 @lufcxx @alienqbrain @woniebae @baekxo07 @titttuaf @chuuswifereal @kyanmeai @isabellah29 @deezbin @skzenhalove @eneiyri @a4ruby @saxytalks @denleave1088 @imdelulu @powerpuffstuts @hoonatic @dollydigital @chososloverfr @dummyf @chanyeolchannie @oddracha @wonwushu @strawberrynull @ceciloveshee @loumin908 @cexg68 @grassbutneo @gardenwons @pag-yerin @bora04 @iluvnikism @jellymiki
— i couldn't tag those who's usernames aren't in bold :(
4K notes · View notes
fastandcarlos · 2 months ago
Text
On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri
summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others
oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️
35,058 comments
username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!
username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄
landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭
username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…
charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw
oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc
username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t
mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!
username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲
danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under
username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭
maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!
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ynusername posted two private stories
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replies
georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂
oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!
ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩
danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!
nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕
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oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞
lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie
landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡
carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️
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liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others
oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀
36,950 comments
username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao
danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭
oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻
username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him
alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂
username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not
charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻
username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay
username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?
maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻
username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah
landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔
oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends
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liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others
oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞
57,492 comments
username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄
landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!
georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️
username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest
ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂
oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹
username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up
alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn
danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??
oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂
username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too
charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️
ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you
username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say
carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock
username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻
maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂
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liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others
oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️
63,957 comments
username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰
lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!
username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩
alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment
username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice
maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️
danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!
username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂
landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn
oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!
username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too
username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid
ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞
oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂
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liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others
ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥
12,056 comments
username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍
alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl
ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘
username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing
charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮
username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life
carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺
oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear
username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂
username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks
danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn
username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life
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ynusername posted two stories
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replies
landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂
oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be
ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???
carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!
alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕
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danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞
ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah
georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you
charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others
ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend
14,592 comments
username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕
oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again
danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn
username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again
username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹
charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend
username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡
iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️
username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again
username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back
landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑����𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
2K notes · View notes
enhard · 5 days ago
Text
⋆˙⟡ monster | lee heeseung
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: when two rivals in an entertainment company turned late-night lovers, no strings attached… or is it something else?
pairing: ceo!l.hs x fem!reader
CW: smut, enemies to fwb to lovers trope??, pwp (3 smut scenes omg), hate sex, age gap: heeseung is 29, reader is 24, usage of condoms, riding, oral sex (both receiving), cum eating, some pet names, insults?, lots of profanity lmk if i missed anything
notes: couldn’t stop thinking about this while listening to monster by gaga. crazycrazy
wc: 7.3k words (MDNI)
There was only one thing you hated more than useless things in your timetable. It was the asshole of the whole company, Lee Heeseung. The more conversations you heard his name in, the more you despised his existence.
His ego was so high it could hit a plane, the way he would talk about his compositions made you wanna throw up. He praised himself so much, and you started wondering if he was just a huge narcissist or if we were insecure of his writing skills. Luckily, you never saw him around often as you were really caught up in your own work. Having to compose songs all the time for singers was not an easy task. Your chairman was an even bigger asshole than Heeseung, always giving you all the work. You had to not only compose songs from start to finish, but you also had to edit and mix the voices, help the singers use the right tones and so much more stuff that wasn’t originally included in your job plan.
Usually, you would stay at the office overtime, your eyes darkened with tiredness. It was a miracle you haven’t fallen asleep all this time.
 You looked at the time,
 [01:54 AM]
“Great.” You sigh. Your shift ended at 12 AM. What the fuck are you still doing here? It’s quiet in the whole building, only clicking sounds can be heard from your keyboard. You’re all alone with a few bodyguards left in the company. You groan, your head pounding from the intense light of your pc. All you want now is to get back to your apartment just to greet your cat Juno.  He’s your only best friend in this cursed city of New York, he’s a soft and fluffy black and white cat, with heterochromia eyes, left eye blue and right eye brown. You talk to him all the time, even though he can’t hold conversations he’s the best listener you’ve ever encountered. Better than your ex-boyfriends, that’s for sure.
As the clock reads [02:29], you’re more than ready to go home. You gather all your things, wish a great night to all the security people there and finally get out of that stupid building. You get your car keys out of your bag, driving home in your black i8. When you get home you feed your cat, finally plopping in your bed and falling asleep instantly.
You woke up due to your phone ringing at around 10 am with the hugest headache you’ve had. You palm your forehead, grabbing your phone with your other hand. Your co-worker, Yena, is calling you. You pick up as fast as you can, moaning into the phone due to being exhausted out of your mind.
“Yeah… Yena hey….” You say with half a mouth.
“Hey girl, are you coming to work? Today’s the showcasing, have you forgotten?”
Oh, fucking hell. You totally forgot.
A showcasing happens when all composers need to show the work they did in a few months’ time. You need to turn in all the songs you’ve made in this time, whilst competing with your other co-workers to be the best one, getting the title of the best songwriter of the month. Your company likes making leaderboards, only adding onto your stress of being the best. Of course, last month’s songwriter was Heeseung, but you thought the judges were so biased over him… you knew you could take him down this month.
“Right… I’ll be there soon just let me get ready.” You say, already dreading the idea of getting out of bed.
She hangs up, letting you wash up quickly. You fix up your hair, put on your suit and do a bit of makeup. You get your badge with your name on it and out you are. By the time you arrive at the company you’re already late… the higherups there scolding you for it.
“Please try to make it on time, you know how important this is.”
You sigh. How could they expect you to be there early when you went home at almost 3 AM last night?
“Okay, okay I’m sorry. I’m here now.” You add.
After you come out of your office to get your suitcase that had your files, you bump into the last person you wanted to see there. He throws you a cheeky smile, not even apologizing for giving you a shoulder.
“Oh, if it isn’t the famous miss L/n! Ready to get your dreams crushed by my songs again?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms. “Yeah right, like I’d let a scumbag like you take my title. I don’t have anything to prove to you, stay in your lane.”
He raises his eyebrows at your response, as you would normally walk away if he told you anything. “Oh is it miss complaint now? Let me actually show you how this job is done, im your ceo for a reason.” he suddenly stops smiling to give you a glare.
“You don’t intimidate me Mr. Lee, right on the contrary, you make me want to laugh.” you say and turn around, not wanting to waste your time with such a man. His sleek smile creeps back onto his face as he walks into his own office.
A few minutes later, you get back to the front, everyone already waiting there with their work. You stand next to Yena, holding the tank of papers in hand tightly.
Yena could tell you’re nervous, so she extended one hand up to yours just to squeeze it, calming you down a bit. Your other co-workers were not a threat at all, but Heeseung was the one person you wanted to bring down. You wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his face. After much judging and testing, with recitals and rehearsals for the songs, the judges finally decided the points accorded to the candidates. The others already had way too little points to worry you, but you, Yena and Heeseung were left.
“Choi Yena, 127 points.” She sighed of relief. A sizeable number overall, but now it depends on what you and Heeseung did.
“Lee Heeseung, 140 points.” His eyes widen. There is a chance that you might win. You might take him over… You might take his place. No way, right?
After a good minute of silence, they finally list your points.
“L/n Y/n, 139 points.” You almost fall to your knees. Out of all chances, how could this happen to you?? You close your eyes and cover your ears before you go insane.
You let him win, again.
“Therefore, our winner this month will be Lee Heeseung, the winner of the last 3 months as well, Congratulations!” all you hear is buzzing in your ears. You grow sour of his name, of his voice, his face. You can’t stand his dumb mouth, dumb face, dumb voice. You can’t stand him at all, and you would do anything to see him fired or something. You know that won’t happen and it drives you crazy. Heeseung smiles, taking his prize in hand once again, his portrait remaining on the fame wall. He shakes hands with the judges before taking a good look at you.
You cannot look at him anymore, you just lower your gaze trying not to burst into tears. You worked so hard for this, yet he took away all your hope for a win. You storm out the room, sitting down at your desk to throw your head down on the wooden table.
One point. Seriously. This is ridiculous.
Well, you take a deep breath and continue with your shitty day. At some point in time, you get a knock on your office door. “Come in.” you say as you raise your eyes up to see who it is. “Oh Yena, hey.. sorry for not saying anything earlier…” you bite your lip.
“Don’t consume yourself over it, hey, that dude is a douche, okay? Do not let him get to you. You are better than him anyway.”
“Am I though? I mean… What if he is simply better than me. What if his songs are better than mine? What if his lyrics have more meaning than mine?”
“He is not better than you, and even if he will be proven to be, which I doubt, don’t ever let him know you think that.”
“I can’t be a narcissist just like him, Yena. If I am not as good as someone, I will take the responsibility on my shoulders and admit it.”
“See you’re already better than him, he would never” She laughs. You laugh back, although in your soul goes a fight between your ego and sincerity.
. . .
After the day ends, you finally go home early, not giving two fucks about what they might say or think, it is your right after all. Too bad that you get a message you dreamed of never getting, too bad it happened.
HELIX ENTERTAINMENT
“Good evening, members of the company. We are delighted to announce that tomorrow there will be a collaboration project between each other. The groups are arranged by the organisers, and they follow the lines of:
Now scrolling through all the pages, you search for your name. Oh, what are the chances.
Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n”
Of course this had to happen, it would not have been you if it were not for your amazing luck.
“Oh, suck on it seriously.” You look at your phone in disbelief, while making yourself tea. “Juno can you believe this? This man is going to ruin my image and my life. I can’t stand him anymore I swear I might kill someone if this keeps happening.” Juno meows, probably because he wants a bit of peace, but you still took that as an agreement to what you said. “I know, I know. I guess it will be okay… hope he doesn’t ruin my career for life with this. I do not trust him.”
The next day, you shake your head while getting out of your car, glaring at the tall building with huge windows. You always glare while looking at it, but somehow this time was different. It wasn’t because you hated your job, it was because you had to see your partner. All the people who greeted you in the halls got a cold response, or no response at all. Might have been a shitty thing to do but honestly you weren’t in the mood for anything anymore. You just wanted this day to be over.
When you get into Heeseung’s office, seeing him rummaging through his papers, you just stood in the doorway… waiting for him to finish his work. He raises his head to look at you, his mood getting insignificantly worse when his eyes met yours. Before he gets to sigh, you cut him off.
“The feeling is mutual. I usually try to act nice, but I just cannot stand you no matter how hard I try.” You cross your arms while he goes back to his papers. “Then take a seat.” He responds in the coldest way, only making you furrow your eyebrows at his tone. “Okay damn…” you say under your breath while grabbing a chair to sit in front of his desk.
There are a few moments of silence, but you decide to ask him about the collaboration, same reason you’re here right now.
“Heese-” “It’s Mr. Lee for you.” You clear your throat annoyed. “Mr. Lee, I am only here to ask you about what we must do, can we focus on that?”
“Why would I make a project with someone as bad at writing as you?” he looks up at you again. You bite your cheek, barely being able to stand him anymore. You just look down to your thighs, grasping your palms together anxiously. Yuna told you to never be weak in front of him, but how could you not when he was so right?
“Please refrain from insulting my work and just take the organisations words, they put us together for this, so we need to do it.”
“If I let you work on this, you will just embarrass me in front of thousands of people. How about you just let me handle this? Go home, enjoy your days off. I’ll give you the credit.”
“You cannot just do everything alone; I do not care about days off I just want to work on this too. Please Mr. Lee.”
That is the first time he’s ever heard you say please to him. He hated your presence just as much as you hated his, why must you be at each other’s throats all the time? Simply because of rivalry or did other frustrations arise from both parties?
He licks his lips, finally giving in. “You can work on it with me Y/n. Just don’t disappoint me.”
“I promise I won’t. This matters so much to me.”
You follow him to his studio; he lets you get in first and that is when he locks the door behind you. You both sit down next to each other while you work on the song. He keeps acting weird throughout the recording and editing process, changing poses multiple times in a few minutes, sighing and fidgeting with his fingers. Halfway through the song you place your hand on his while looking at him. “Mr. Lee, are you feeling okay?”
That is when he sighs, snatching his hand away from yours and turning the pc off. He turns to you, keeping his eye contact consistent. “Y/n… i’ve just been feeling frustrated. Just forget it. Let’s focus on the song.”
Now you cannot say that you care about him, but you’re still curious to see what this is about. “Oh, is that so? Frustrated in what kind? Someone like you has feelings?”
He glares at you. “Not in the way you’d think, anyway.” You tilt your head. “But how? Tell me now, i’m curious.” “Maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut, it’s none of your business.” “Just because you’re my superior does not mean you gotta talk to me like that, bastard.” He clenches his jaw. “Oh, that’s it.” He suddenly grabs onto your neck, pulling you closer. He’s still so gentle but it’s enough force to make you struggle to talk. “Is this what it’s about...? A... are you sexually frustrated…?” You tease. He releases the grasp on your neck and looks down at his hands. “I.. I’m sorry. It’s hard being alone when you’re pushing 30 you know.”
You had no idea what was happening right now, but you definitely enjoyed the attention you got. You were equally as touch starved as he was, and it was making you want more.
“You know, we could do this. But I really don’t like you dude.” You raise your eyebrow at him. He nods. “You don’t make yourself all that approachable either, would you really be down? I mean, just… fuck buddies… nothing else?”
“Mr. Lee, you know we both aren’t ones for relationships. But what’s in it for me?” “Oh, you want payment now?” “Well, you knew I wasn’t gonna give you myself for free, did you?” He laughs. “Fair, then how about I give you a raise?” “Mm… Anything else?” He rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay uhh. A raise and no more staying overtime, you get paid if you leave work early and… free coffee for life.” You ponder a bit. “Alright, I accept.” “Oh, not so quick, you need some rules to you too. For this to work you have to come help me anytime I need you.” “Libido that high, huh?” He shushes you and you giggle.
“Well okay, but if you’re really frustrated right now, shall we start today?” He looks back at you, visibly cringing from you being so direct with him, but he doesn’t mind. “I mean if you’re down.” “I am, but do you have any condoms?” That’s when you see him reaching for his wallet, taking out about 3 condoms out. Your eyes widen a bit, smacking your lips at his professionalism. “Oh, wow you’re ready.” “3 is a bit much…” “Who knows, i’ll end up using all of them and then end up going raw cause we are left with none.” “Yeah, don’t know about that.” “Im messing with you, dumbass.” He rolls his eyes, letting you get on top of his lap. Your lips finally make contact with his, getting to taste him in your mouth, the feeling lingering down to your stomach.
As you begin making out, your hand travels down to his forming bulge, squeezing and massaging it to the best of your abilities. As you’re doing that, he squeezes your ass with his palm, making you flinch from the sudden pressure. You playfully slap his face, pulling away from the kiss a bit. “You’re such a dick.” “I know, wanna feel mine already?” You give him one last kiss before pushing his head back on the chair to kiss his neck, insisting on his prominent adam’s apple. You suck on his sensitive skin, forming hickeys along his whole neck. “Fuck, Y/n, you’re not bad at this.” “I know, but you are.” “Oh shut up, I barely got to do anything.” You sigh, pulling away from his neck. “Let me ride you, m’kay?” “Do whatever you want to me.” He smiles coyly. “Could I kill you?” You pout your lips. “Not until you get your raise.” “Oh, fuck off.”
You start with unbuttoning his pants, not even taking them off before placing your hand on his boxers. You press his dick a bit, his groan appearing right after. “Mhm, that’s what I love hearing.” You nod to yourself. “Right from my mouth?” He teases too. “Oh, you know what I mean, I might need to stuff yours, so you shut up more often.” “Could you stuff it with your pussy?” That keeps you quiet for a bit, his response making you clench around nothing. “… I might, if tape doesn’t work.”
You don’t even take his pants off when you pull his boxers down with his half-hard dick springing out. You grab the base, stroking it a bit to get it as erect as you can. “You’re so big.” You point out. He just smirks, looking at you up and down. You leave his dick alone for a bit just to take your panties off, as you were already wearing a skirt, the embarrassing wet stains on them being visible for Heeseung to see as well. “You got this wet already? And you’re the one saying i’m horny.” “Shut it.” You throw your panties to the other side of the room, finally ripping one condom out the packaging, putting it well onto his dick. After you give him a few more strokes you position yourself on his dick, slowly lowering yourself on his length. It takes you a few good seconds to adjust, then you slowly move your hips back and forth on him. He already throws his head back, the feeling being so familiar yet so distant. Your walls clench around him every time you move on him, the feeling already getting unbearable. You change your routine a bit, starting to bounce instead of grinding, the sound of your thighs touching echoing through the room. You try leaving out as little moans as you can, but it’s still impossible for you, as it feels so good. You leave out small desperate noises as you bounce on him. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” He smiles up at you. You glare again. “Fuck you.” While speeding up. “This.. doesn’t mean anything. I’m just.. helping.. you get rid of a boner.” You say out of breath. “And it’s working, keep going.”
You ride him as well as you can, his swollen tip getting so deep inside you it’s hitting your sweet g-spot. He needed to fuck with someone desperately, the fact that it was you was pure coincidence. Your mouth parts, leaving sounds that only his ears can hear. “Holy shit… I might cum soon… please” you cry, grabbing onto his shoulders with your nails bedded into his skin. He looks up at you, his hand resting against your ass, giving it a few squeezes here and there. “You’re gonna cum for me? Hm? Come on, cum all over me” He whisper shouts, helping you bounce on him faster and faster.
The knot in your stomach quickly snaps, your orgasm washing down over you with a few loud moans. You cum all over his dick, with each thrust forming a white ring at the base of it. “Your pussy so good, Y/n… I can’t take it any…more” he grunts, throwing his head back more with each bounce of yours. “Cum already, come on you’re... doing so well” you encourage him, and he immediately obeys, his semen spilling into his condom, making it fully white by the time you pull away from his lap. He pants and moans before you finally take the condom off his dick, the cum spilling back onto it. You stroke him a few more times, getting your hand messy but that finally makes him lay on the chair more relaxed, his high calming down.
“Damn it you’re good.” He says while smiling, his head thrown backwards. “I know, that’s why I agreed to help you.” You slightly grab onto his neck, giving it a few playful kisses. “Now should I send you back to your work? You’re finished here.” He teases. “Oh right, right. Maybe I should focus on my actual work, rather than this work.” You say, grabbing onto his dick one last time, leaving it alone after wrapping your hand around it.
He grabs your wrist, flicking it away now. He looks up at you while raising his eyebrow. “Get the fuck out of here.” You scoff at him, cleaning yourself up a bit and fixing your clothes back on before turning around to leave. “Suck my pussy.” You say annoyed while heading to the door.
As you open the door you hear a “Might do that too” and that’s when you get out the door, leaving him a middle finger before closing the door behind you.
Heeseung finishes the project for both of you, and you end up winning it together. Of course, he kept reproaching you that you won because of him, and you got into a heated argument that you just stopped talking for weeks. So first he says he’ll do it for you but when you do… he argues that he did all the work?
What an asshole.
After another day of no contact at all, you get passed a flyer at work, so you quickly read it.
“It gives us immense pleasure to invite you to a special gathering in honor of Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n to celebrate their remarkable achievement of winning the collaboration project contest first place.
Date: [7th of December]
Time: [7 PM to 12 AM]
Venue: HELIX ENTERTAINMENT VENUE & BAR
Dress Code: [Semi-Formal]
We look forward to celebrating this special moment with you.
Warm regards,
HELIX ENTERTAINMENT”
After reading, you immediately put the flyer down on your desk, covering your face with your hands. “I don’t wanna see that man ever again.” You avoided him for a few weeks, how could you meet again now? You sigh to yourself, thinking that it’s just one day, it’ll be over, and you can continue ignoring him again.
On the day of the event, you buy yourself a nice and luxurious royal blue dress, it’s long and it hugs your body so well. It has a pretty big cleavage, but you know you looked attractive in it anyway. You get ready, grab your hand purse, and get to the venue. As you enter the big ballroom you notice Heeseung right away, talking to some higher ups while having one hand in his pocket, and the other in the air, moving it around while talking. He’s wearing a tight black suit on, with a deep v-neck that perfectly shows his collarbone. His hair a dark velvet and slightly gelled. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. He always wore that dark aura to him, and that pissed you off. It’s like he was pulling you in despite you trying to pull away. Even if you said you hated him, your palms got sweaty when you saw him, your heartbeat got faster and you eyes slightly widened whenever you saw him. It wasn’t because he was your boss, it wasn’t because he could fire you at any moment… there was something else. And he knew it.
You breathe in one last time before going up to them. As soon as Heeseung sees you he can’t stop looking at you. How perfect you look, you elegant you came here yet so sexy. The way your boobs sat in your dress and how they looked at Heeseung first, that’s what he claims anyway. You don’t say anything to each other, you barely dare to make eye contact. But at one point the others leave your conversation, saluting both of you for now... And when you expect it least, he pulls you aside.
“Are you trying to tempt me with those tits?” He whispers. “Excuse me?” You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of confusion and anger. “I mean, look at you. Who did you come here for? Where are you going after this? Is there anyone else with you?” He launches this set of questions so weirdly, making you cross your arms which makes your boobs squeeze even tighter against each other.
“I’m here alone, Heeseung. I just liked this dress and came here with it. What’s your problem, even if I dressed up for someone?” You look angrily at him. “Because nobody can see… all of this… except for me. You’re my fuck buddy remember?”
“So? I thought friends with benefits meant something else for you. Don’t care what you think about my outfits. Just stop staring weirdo.” You rest your arms alongside your body, before turning to leave. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close to him. “Look, I don’t want to be constantly ignoring you. Can we be just like we were before?” your lips part. “You mean…. hating each other?” he sighs. “You know what I mean. Hating each other but helping each other with things.” You click your tongue. “Oh yeah, speaking of that… you never gave me my raise… or my coffee.”
“What? you can take as much coffee as you want, and I want you to help me with something before I give you the extra money.”
“And what’s that? amaze me.”
“Could you act that you’re my fianc�� for tonight?”
You freeze. “Huh?”
“I don’t want you around me, at all. But It’s so annoying when people keep asking why i’m not married at my age.”
“Did you tell them that you’re a bastard? and that’s why you’re single?” you look at him pissed.
“Oh fuck off, just tell me if you want to help me or not.” you contemplate. “Maybe. If I finally get my raise, and some good sex out of you.”
“It’s on then. Let’s go meet some people here, they’re old and rich perverts but they give hella good sponsors. You might wanna cover up. I don’t want them looking at you.” he grabs your waist. “What a coincidence, that sounds like a perfect description of you in a few years.” you roll your eyes, walking with him while struggling to put on your jacket.
“Hello, Mr. Lee, and who is this beautiful lady?” they start right off the bat looking at your body and all, despite covering yourself as well as you can. You feel so uncomfortable with them but Heeseung makes sure to cover you with his body instead. “This is Y/n, my dearest fiancé. She’s a bit shy, so please talk to me instead.” You throw a slight smile while looking at him, his gesture making you really happy.
After you were done with these men, you leave to a more reserved area. “I can’t believe i’m saying this but… thanks for having my back earlier.” “Don’t fret, I saw how uncomfortable you were. Hate you or not, I can’t see you with that expression on your stupid face.”
You take your jacket off while nodding your head. “Wow, what a compliment from you mr. Lee. I acted enough; now can I stop being your dog following you everywhere?”
“Of course, you can leave too if you’re busy.”
“Hey, what about my payment? remember?”
“You want your money now? What do you wanna buy? I’ll give you my card.” He says, pulling out his card to hand it to you. “My pin is 1510. Use however much you want.”
That just stunned you. “W-What no I don’t need to buy anything. Keep your card…” you push it back to him. “I meant… you know.”
“The good sex part?” he says softly.
“Yeah. That.” you say a bit embarrassed now. “Stop making it so awkward, you’re being too quiet for your own good.” you continue.
“Why do you think that? Is my mouth too big to keep quiet?” he smiles. “Obviously, you never seem to shut up but right now you’re eerily quiet.” “I’m just thinking whether I should just eat you out like you deserve or fuck you too on top of that.” His response already gets you hot and bothered, not caring about the people who might be there or might pass you two. You get even closer to him, sliding your hand down his v-neck to touch his pecs and collarbone. “What’s stopping you from doing both? Please Heeseung. It’s my turn to be needy is it not?”
“Of course, it can be your turn whenever. Surprised you’re craving my pleasure when you can’t stand me.” “You’re still fucking hot with this suit on, personality or not.” He smiles, pulling you into a heated kiss, the butterflies rummaging through your stomach. You grab onto his hair, pushing him a little while making out. You pull away after a bit, finally unbuttoning his shirt. You touch him all over his body, barely being able to stop.
“Did you always look this good?” you say, moving your hands on his abdomen. “Were you always this desperate for me?” he smiles, letting you do whatever you want, until he begins undressing you too, sliding that dress off you in a hurry. He slips your bra off taking one tit into his mouth while kneading the other. You let out desperate sounds, wishing he would just eat you out already. His breath hot against your nipple makes your whole body shiver, inevitably making you whine. “Heeseung just suck on my pussy like that please stop teasing me damn it.”
He laughs against your skin, giving your boob one last kiss before pulling away. “Okay, okay, sit down on this couch.” You do, and he gets on his knees to slide your panties off. He makes you spread your legs for him, keeping them apart with his hands. He starts off with small kisses around your core, taking his time enjoying his meal afterall. “This is the second time you’re dripping wet for me, is it a pattern now?” you grab onto his hair to keep him there. “Shut up and just help me get through this.” He listens, starting to eat you out to the best of his ability. Hollowing his cheeks, shaking his head to suck on your folds. He puckers up his lips to kiss you all over, giving it a few sweet licks all over the slit. Once he reaches your clit, he glues his mouth on it, sucking on it leaving the nastiest sounds known to man. While he’s focusing on your clit, he sneaks his fingers to your wet hole, sliding one finger in at first, pounding it into you at a steady rate. You cannot stop moaning loudly, the pleasure being too much for you. He inserts another finger in, curling them inside you, reaching your g-spot easily.
“Oh, right there, Hee. Don’t you dare stop or you’re so dead— oh my fucking god that’s so good.” His hand speeds up, he pulls his mouth away to flick his tongue on your bud faster and faster; matching the rhythm of his fingers. “Fuck!” you cry out. “Heeseung i’m gonna… cum please … keep going.” You lose your mind. He speeds up even more, destroying your pussy with his fingers, actually giving you hope that he’s gonna let you finish. Once you get as close as you’ve ever been, he pulls out and away completely, making your body shake. You groan suddenly opening your eyes in disbelief. “What the fuck..?” you say angrily. “You thought I was just gonna let you cum like that from something so simple?” You glare. “You’re so fucking annoying, I had such a good orgasm forming.”
He caresses your cheek. “Stop pouting, let me make you cum forreal now, okay?” you still look mad, but you grab onto the hem of his pants, pulling them down in one second; his boner is quite visible already. You pull his dick out, stroking it while he gets a condom out his wallet again (Somehow he’s always ready). You keep stroking him, squeezing his tip with your fingers until he leaks precum everywhere. You stop that to pull his boxers down further, letting him put his condom on. He strokes himself a few more times before positioning himself to penetrate you. He slowly pushes his cock in, making slow movements at first, slowly speeding up to fuck you good. “You’re taking it so well, and you feel so good..” You hum, slowly wrapping your legs around him. “That’s amazing… keep going..” you whine, letting him fuck you til you lose your mind.
He slightly moans at every thrust, managing to get deeper and deeper with every thrust. You feel him so deep inside, hitting your g-spot again with his swollen tip. The sudden zap makes you grab onto his biceps with your hands, digging your nails into his skin while moaning louder. “Mhm…. That’s the spot. Don’t stop please…” He finally listens to your pleads, pounding into your sweet spot over and over as you leave red scratches all over his arms. Your hands move up to his upper back, scratching him like a wild cat. He hisses multiple times at the pain, but he lets you react this way just to see all your reactions to him destroying you once again. You tighten around him as you’re about to cum.
“Hee...please let me cum... plea—oh that feels so good please…” you say as you start crying, small tears running down your cheeks shutting your eyes forcefully. “Who’s crying on my cock now? You love getting fucked like this don’t you slut?” he says while speeding up even more, making you squirt on him on the spot. His words buzz in your ear over and over while you lose your mind completely. Your legs shake on his lower back, getting his dick wet with your squirt. “You’re so messy when you cum.” He groans, getting close to his release too. “Oh fuck you… you know you like it… cum already…. come on.” A few more thrusts in and he pulls out to take his condom off his dick. He gives himself a few more strokes before releasing strings of cum all over your stomach. He holds onto your thigh with his other hand while continuing to stroke himself. You look down to your stomach just to see, biting your lip at the scenery. “That’s a new one… you look damn hot doing it.” He slightly smiles at you. “Figured we’d both get messy.” You both quickly clean up the best you can, trying not to get caught by anyone despite how loud you both were the entire time.
“Is this the good sex you were talking about?” he says in a sly manner. “Obviously, if that even means something to you. If there’s one good thing about you it might just be that dick.” You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my, should I feel honored?” he says sarcastically.
You both get out of there, having no intention of staying after what both just did. He gives you the rest of the evening off and gives you your very awaited raise. He was generous with his numbers, that good time really helped. might despise you, or that’s what you think, but he took that raise seriously and you couldn’t stop smiling at your bank balance.
A few days later, you get a text at work from none other than Heeseung. You never gave him your number, so it was a surprise.
“hey y/n”
“Who is this?”
“the guy you fucked 2 days ago”
“ugh what do u want”
“i’m your boss, don’t text me that way”
“whatever, why are u texting me and where did u get my number”
“yena, i just wanted to give you some extra work today”
[1 attachment]
The photo he sent shows his lower body sitting on a chair with his legs slightly manspreading, a thick bulge layering on his dark grey pants while his left hand is gripping the said bulge. Multiple veins are seen branching down from his hand to his arm.
The moment you saw the picture your eyes scattered throughout the pixels in your phone without being able to stop. The photo he took was so damn attractive to you for no specific reason but the way his hand looked, the way you just knew that bulge in his pants was throbbing, begging to get out the tight bottom wear. Still, you decided to be a little cold to him as you always were.
“oh why should i help u? i already got my raise”
“do u want this to be your only one?”
You leave him on seen for a minute or two.
“where r u”
“in my office, tell my bodyguard i called you in here”
“🖕”
You get up, fixing your makeup a little before leaving your office to get to his. After you close the door behind you, you both have a moment of intense eye contact, just to break it off by looking down. “You got here fast. Missed me that much?” you smack your lips. “It’s not like you threatened me or anything.” He laughs softly. “You know you missed me already. Did you touch yourself to the picture I sent, too?” He slowly walks towards you.
“What? No. You’re not all that Heeseung. Your mouth moves too much though.”
“Oh yeah? Then let's see what yours can do.”
He grabs your chin, pulling it up so you can only look into his eyes. There are a few seconds of silence where your heart skips a beat… then in his lowest tone you hear him say...
“Get on your knees.”
He releases the grasp on your chin, letting you lower yourself, finally making eye contact with his bulge. “Aren’t we gonna get caught here?” He shakes his head. “No one can enter without my permission. No one can leave either, like you here.” He smiles. You squeeze your legs together at his words while sliding his pants and boxers off in one move. His hardened cock springs out, bouncing off his navel. You start with small pecks to his red tip, slowly moving down to his entire length. He looks down at you, admiring your sweet moves to bring him pleasure. “You’re adorable like this, did you know?” he chuckles. “Eat a dick.” He slaps your cheek. “Too bad you’re eating mine right now.” You glare up at him before taking his tip in your mouth, stroking him with your hand. You have your other hand resting on his right knee, as you bop your head back and forth little by little. He smiles at you, grabbing your hair into a ponytail just to keep your head in place and to be able to fuck your mouth a bit.
You unwrap your hand from around him cock, letting him completely take control, going at his desired pace. He moans at the feeling, throwing his head back for a second. “Fuck yeah... I see this mouth is better at doing things other than complaining all the time.” His thrusts are making you slightly choke on his dick, getting harder and harder to breathe. You grab onto his thighs, trying to at least make him slow down, but to no avail. It feels too good for him to stop now, your mouth wrapped so tight around his dick; sending him waves of bliss with each thrust. After a good while he pulls away, letting you breathe again. “I fucking hate you.” You say, looking up at him. “Don’t talk to your superior that way, brat.” He grabs the base of his cock, slapping the tip onto your lips multiple times.
You take him in your mouth again, bopping your head up and down faster than before. You try using your tongue against as well, caressing the sensitive spot between his tip and length with the tip of your tongue.
“That feels so good. Don’t pull away.” He whispers. You leave little hums to confirm that you won’t, letting him get closer to his release with those emitted vibrations. After a few more sloppy bops, he moans like hell, grabbing onto the back of your head to push you deeper onto him. “Y/n i’m— gonna cum… hold on…” he moans out, his eyes closed shut. You keep going, wanting him to cum right in your mouth. “Mmm…hmm.” Is all you can let out, before he cums deep in your throat, automatically swallowing all of it. He leaves out a small groan, pulling out your mouth after he’s done. A string of saliva links his tip and your tongue as he pulls away further.
“Good girl. You swallowed all of it.” You give him a little smile, standing up while wiping your mouth. “Might’ve been the best i’ve ever had, come here.” He says, grabbing your waist with his arms. He leans in to give you a genuine kiss, not a lustful one, definitely not. He keeps you in that deep kiss for a while, pulling away only to pull you in again. “Where... is this … coming from?” you chuckle a little, asking between kisses. “I don’t think… I can stand… completely hating… you anymore…” your eyes widen a bit. “Was my mouth that good?” you say jokingly, and he shakes his head. “Not just that, not just sex. You have a crazy charm to you, I don’t know if you can feel it.”
“That’s crazy coming from you Lee Heeseung.”
“I want you in my life Y/n, you can be mad all you want but it doesn’t change things between us.”
“You’ve already been in mine way too long.” You smile.
“Exactly, I want you to be so sick of me, no medicine would be able to treat you.”
“I guess we can make it work… you’re crazy hot, still might need to tape that mouth though.”
“Is that a secret kink?” He laughs.
“Oh, shut up.” You push him slightly. You can’t lie, being his girlfriend now was tempting, no matter how much you tried to hate him, he attracted you more and more without even realising. Every time he was in your presence your subconscious was happy to see him. Your mind played tricks on you, and you hated how much you adored him.
Dating Lee Heeseung, your boss, was one of the best decisions of your life. Turns out he’s sweeter than it seems, he would give his life for you, and you would too. You didn’t need anyone else, only your soulmate and your cat. You ended up moving in together, always cooking dinner together, going on vacations together and just enjoying eachother’s presence. He was such a sweet guy, something you never expected to see from such a man. Yena definitely judged you when she first found out about your new relationship, but quickly came along with the idea. Thing is, Heeseung acted this way with others but he was so sweet with you. He only loved you. His sparkly bambi eyes always stare at you with such admiration when you walk in the room. He can’t stop admiring you all the time.
I guess he wasn’t that bad after all.
———————————————————————
a/n: thank you so much for reading this!! I spent a few days on it and it was definitely experimental. reblogging/liking would be very much appreciated < 3
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luvyeni · 2 months ago
Text
( reaction ) unintentionally riding them ! ୨୧ 一 엔시티드림 ՞
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⸃ ⸰ ⌁ unintentionally riding nct dream on a rideヾ
boyfriend!엔시티드림・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ nudes , allusions to sex wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ click to library
request. hear me out…… what about nct dream going with yn to that ride disco pang pang and you end up on top of them (idk if you’ve seen a video that’s been going around where a girl is literally riding other girl😭)
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 those rides are scary as hell i couldn't imagine falling into a strangers lap like the video.
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﹙ 𐙚 : mark﹚ .ᐟ
he knows you mean no harm; the ride was quite literally tossing you both around , and you just happened to land on him — but it didn't stop his cock from growing inside is jeans. he's stressed , he knows you feel it. “fu-fuck im so sorry.” he said , your face is hot , cheeks are rosy as you feel him beneath you , he's embarrassed , but so turned on , he was gonna cum . “but fuck you feel good , im sorry , im so sorry .” he's just wishing the damn ride would end.
“fuck im sorry but im about to cum.”
﹙ 𐙚 : renjun﹚ .ᐟ
he's embarrassed as hell; but his ass is not about to let you know that. “re-renjun are you hard?” he scoffed , rolling his eyes. “you're straddling me , and this ride is bouncing you on my dick , of course I'm hard , wouldn't you be hard if you were in my position? i know you're probably turned on right now , don't make it seem like it's only me.” he stressed , he's about to cum in his pants and he wasn't about to give you leverage to further tease him. “oh fuck will this ride ever fucking end.”
“we're leaving this fucking amusement park arter this.”
﹙ 𐙚 : jeno﹚ .ᐟ
his hands immediately come to your waist to hold you from falling when the ride tossed you into his lap. “hi.” he tries to smile it off — even though the ride is practically bouncing you on his dick. you're actually the one profusely apologizing , but he pretends that it doesn't even bother him , even though he's hard a fucking rock and you're riding him unintentionally in front of all these people and he has to force himself not to moan. “i don't think i can get up after this.” he said. “it's already embarrassing with you on top of me.”
“i don't want these people to see my dick hard.”
﹙ 𐙚 : haechan﹚ .ᐟ
shameless motherfucker; you would've thought he was already hard before the ride tossed you into the boys lap. “haechan are you serious?” he smirking holding you close by your waist. “you're grinding on top of me and you're confused as to why im hard.” he scoffed , your eyes widened at his sudden brazen attitude , you knew he was a wild card but even this was too much for you. you only come back when he groans , he doesn't even care.
“fuck if this ride doesn't stop soon i’m gonna cum.”
﹙ 𐙚 : jaemin﹚ .ᐟ
with the smirk on his face , you would've thought he orgistrated the entire thing himself , his hands on your waist , meanwhile you're the one who's embarrassed as hell. “why are you so embarrassed?” he knew you could feel his hard on , he could feel you as well. “im-im glad you're having a good time.” you on the other hand , your body was on fire. “I am baby i am.” the ride still tossing you around but he made sure to hold you still.
“but i'm more excited about the time we're about to have when we get off this ride.”
﹙ 𐙚 : chenle﹚ .ᐟ
completely turns it on you; yeah he's the one thats hard , but you're the one on top of him and you're the one who caused it in his eyes , not the ride. “if you wanted to ride me you should've just asked , not force me on this nauseating ride so you can do it shamelessly.” you wanted to slap him so bad , but you were too busy grabbing the bar to keep yourself from flying off. “sh-shut up.” your face hot from embarrassment as you straddled him. “im not gonna cum in my pants like a teenager.”
“but all bets are off when we get off this ride.”
﹙ 𐙚 : jisung﹚ .ᐟ
he wants to kill himself to moment he feels you on top of him; his face is red , he wanted to die — but it felt good and that's what made him feel like a pervert , because it wasn't sexual , but his stupid cock didn't seem to get the message. he swore the person who managed the ride had something against him because the ride was never ending and no matter how many times you tried to get up , the ride was plopping you back into his lap. “ji-jisung.” your hands holding his shoulders , he stops you before you can finish.
“please don't say anything , im sorry , so fucking sorry.”
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©LUVYENI
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ghouljams · 2 months ago
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Ok nobody extrapolate anything about me from this...
The first time you cry in front of the 141:
The first time you cry in front of Ghost it's because you can't fucking take it anymore. All the little things, all the comments you know he didn't mean to hurt, all the conversations you ignored because you didn't want to make him feel like the bad guy, it all comes to a head. You don't even mean it to happen, and you feel like shooting yourself on the spot as soon as the tears start flowing. It feels manipulative. It feels disingenuous. You feel like a piece of shit having him awkwardly bundle you in his arms as you break down sobbing over a topic that normally would mean nothing to you. And it all comes out. All the worries and slights you ignored, all the fears and doubts, all the things that made you question if you could ever even start to bring up with him. Like throwing up, once it starts you can't stop it.
He looks like you've hit him when you finally escape his bear hug. You barely get the chance to take it in before you're thrust back into sobbing hysterics, blubbering out apologies, how you feel like you're manipulating him, how you're a bad partner, how you're sure he's going to realize he doesn't want you and leave. You barely hear the rough "Jesus Christ" over your own hiccuping.
Ghost shuffles the two of you over to grab you a t-shirt to blow your nose in while you're sniffling and wiping at your eyes. You feel pathetic having him hold the fabric to your face and telling you to blow.
"Didn't know ya made this much snot love," he jokes.
"You're dot funny," you whine, nose still clogged with wattery mucus as your tears finally start calming down.
"I know," he grumps.
"You're mad at me," you sniffle.
"I'm not," he sounds mad, "mad at myself. Shoulda seen ya keepin' things to yourself, I'm glad ya finally told me." His scarred mouth screws to one side. "Just gotta work on makin' sure we don't get to this point again."
-
The first time you cry in front of Soap it's because you're so fucking mad at him. He's arguing with you over nothing, the same way he always does when he's in a bad mood. Finding little things that dig at you and twisting just enough to make it not his fault when you snap. Back and forth with your barbs until you got to bed angry.
You can feel the tears burning at your waterline before they spill and you know your hot cheeks don't bode any better. You're not yelling but you almost wish you were, at least of you were yelling at each other it might make you feel better about the sudden waterworks. You hate when this happens. Too big an emotion in the body, it has to come out somewhere, you suppose this is just the quickest avenue. The way Soap's face drops from anger to concern pisses you off though.
"Hen, are ya-"
"I'm so fucking mad right now," you assure him, "don't look at me, don't even acknowledge them."
"Ah dinnae ken," His voice is getting softer, it only makes you more upset, "Oh my bonnie, ahm sorry ah didnae think this would hurt ya so bad."
"Fuck off," you try to push past him to lock yourself in the bathroom and he catches your arm to pull you against him. "Fuck off!" You shriek, pushing at him.
"No," he holds you a little tighter, "my mam would 'ave my heid hearin' ah let ya walk away from me like this, yer stayin' 'ere."
"I will fucking skin you Mactavish," you struggle harder.
"Aye anno, now shut up an' quit yer kickin'."
You do neither of those things.
-
The first time Gaz sees you cry it's because no one's ever seen you before. Even in your best relationships, your closest friendships, no one sees you like Gaz. No one picks you up from work with flowers and takes you by your favorite bakery just so you can have a slice of cake when you watch your comfort show. You're not even through the title music, Gaz sorting through your takeout options after he'd gotten you a "fancy plate" and a small fork to eat with, when you break down in sobs. He's on you immediately, hushing you as he gathers you into his arms. He's so attentive it hurts.
"It's OK baby," he hums, "don't have to talk about it, you just let it out."
God even that gets you crying. You don't have to get your words right or find a way to explain what you're feeling, you can just feel it. You try to think of a way to put it into words but it all lines up wrong, sounds too juvenile, doesn't make any sense even to you. There's no need to say anything though, Gaz just sits there with you, holds you through it as you wet his shoulder with your tears.
You don't even know why you're crying by the end of it, you just kept coming up with other reasons to cry. Jesus you don't think you ever got over your last grandparent dying, or losing that one friend, that's something to unpack later. You feel drained. Literally dehydrated drained. Gaz's shirt is soaked, but he doesn't day anything when you pull back.
He cups your cheek at wipes at the wet stains on your cheek with his thumb, eyes searching yours before he gives you a tight smile.
"Why don't you go take a hot shower, yeah?" He offers, you give him a watery nod, he smiles and pats your knee. "Alright, off you go. I'll be in, in a second."
The second time you cry in front of Gaz it's before he's got you pinned to the shower wall.
-
The first time Price sees you cry it's because you're tired. You're tired of giving everything to this relationship and seeing him leave right when things seem to be falling into place. His phone buzzes in the middle of the night and you don't stop the downpour when he grumbles out a swear and turns on the light. You glare at the ceiling and let the tears flow. It hurts. Tight in your chest. This feeling like you'll never be enough, like he'll always have something more important than you, it kills you. So why can't you leave him?
Are the good times really good enough to make up for the bad?
It makes him stop what he was doing when he sees the resolute grimace and the flow of tears over your cheeks. You shudder in a breath when he sits on the side of the bed. You refuse to look at him.
How could he do this to you?
"Sweetheart," he starts, his voice low, gentling, "I'm sorry."
"You're not." You correct him, "Otherwise you wouldn't keep doing it."
"You want me to choose between you and the world, you know what I'll say." He always sounds so sharp, ready to guilt you into giving up what he wants.
"I'm asking you to choose between me and paperwork," you bite back.
"You don't know-"
"You get phone calls when you're being deployed." You remind him, "You get reminders when papers are due." You turn to glare at him. The look on his face twists like a knife in your chest. You're dead on the money, and it's killing him. "So can this really not wait until the morning, are you really that eager to be rid of me?"
"I'm sorry," he tries again, toeing off his shoes, "you're right, I hadn't noticed." You turn over as he climbs under the duvet again. You fold your legs up as his arm drapes over you hip and he curls around you. His lips touch your shoulder, a silent plea for forgiveness. "Let me make it up to you, no more running into red tape I promise."
You don't bother agreeing to empty promises, but the next day he's had the paperwork sent from the base. The same the next day. Price always told you working from home didn't suit him. Waking you up with a cuppa on the other hand and walking you to the station does though.
He makes good on his promise, he doesn't run off until the next call comes in.
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 5 months ago
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(Don't You) Steal My Thunder
my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles
Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words
summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.
a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.
again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth
masterlist | twisters masterlist
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Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.
He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.
Tyler Owens is a problem.
And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.
Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.
And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.
It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.
Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.
Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.
But he's just such a fucking asshole.
You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.
Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.
Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.
Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.
Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.
You're just doing your job.
The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.
You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).
This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.
And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.
Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.
“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”
“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”
Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.
“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”
His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.
“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”
The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.
By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.
So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.
“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.
Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.
“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.
"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."
You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.
"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.
"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.
His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.
"I don't drink."
You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.
Not that you want to.
"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.
"I don't drink with you."
He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.
"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.
"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."
His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.
"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."
"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."
He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.
"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"
He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.
"I'm not a fan of you."
Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.
"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.
For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.
"I try."
With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.
"I'd still buy you a beer."
"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.
...
You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.
The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.
This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.
It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.
"Hey, weather girl!"
You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.
"What do you want, Owens?"
Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.
"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."
He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.
Not that you'd been about to.
Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.
You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.
You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.
You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.
It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.
Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.
You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.
"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.
"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."
"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."
You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.
"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)
"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.
The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.
"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."
He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.
"Cameras are off, I swear."
You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.
God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.
You're so, so stupid.
"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."
...
You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.
Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...
But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.
When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.
"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.
"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.
"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."
"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."
You pull your eyebrows even further up.
"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"
"Nope. Not familiar."
But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.
You just shake your head and turn away from him.
"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."
...
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.
The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.
Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.
That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.
Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.
It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.
You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.
But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...
"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.
"What?"
"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."
You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.
"You're shitting me."
Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.
"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.
His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.
It takes you a second too long to realise why.
"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"
"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.
"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."
"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."
The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.
"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."
You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.
"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"
"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."
He is.
He's right now. He's right usually.
Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."
You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.
He puts the bill flat on the bar top.
But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.
"The price just went up", he says.
You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.
"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"
He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.
"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.
A kiss.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.
Especially with that forecast.
The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.
"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."
...
At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.
"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.
"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."
"But it collapsed this morning."
You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.
"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"
You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.
"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."
...
You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.
You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.
You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.
He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.
And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.
It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.
"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.
"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.
"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"
"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."
Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.
"Alright, so we wait."
You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.
"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."
You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.
It makes reading close to impossible.
Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.
That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.
You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.
You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.
Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.
Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.
But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.
You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?
So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.
For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.
"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.
"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."
Well, it's hard to break bad habits.
Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?
Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.
"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.
Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.
You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.
"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:
"So I'm Watson, yeah?"
Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.
It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.
You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.
"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.
Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.
And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.
"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."
"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.
Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.
You want more of Tyler Owens.
"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.
"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"
"I could never."
"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."
His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.
"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."
His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.
"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."
And then your lips are on his.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.
He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.
You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.
"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.
"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.
But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.
You chuckle against his lips.
"If you feel it, chase it, right?"
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lustlovehart · 4 months ago
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[ Monsters List ] - Sensitive info with targets abilities
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A/n: Not my usual writing at all! these details are relationship stuff each character has with the reader that isn’t shown in the main story. (Some details are omitted to avoid spoilers). Now that this is done, I’ll be going back to the main story line now ^^. If i’m missing any warnings, please say so.
Pairing: [Monster!Twst x Reader] Featuring, Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Epel, Idia, Malleus, Lilia, Sebek, Silver, Rollo, & Neige.
Summary: Dear, [Name], Crowley just informed me he did not give the courtesy of listing all the beasts and their abilities into your possession, please allow me to be the one to aid you. Here are bullets of their names and prowesses, as well as species. Please, do stay safe and out of trouble, and remember to eat and sleep well. Love, From, Rollo.
“Did it send?” “I… I’m sorry Sir Rollo, it seems we were unable to reach [Name] in time…” “…What.”
Warnings: Some fuffy and some aren’t, Stalking, Mentions of Nsfw (Vil). Zombies (Ace, Deuce), Biting (Ace, Deuce, and Jamil), Squeezing? (Jamil, Floyd), Hints of possession in each section, Blood Drinking (Epel, Jade, Lilia), They’re all monsters that are evil so… Murder, Kisses (Kalim, Floyd, Malleus), Blood,
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Prologue Chapter
Riddle Rosehearts [ Ghost ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic. [ Magic is a mystery in the field, all that is known is it’s abilities monsters have that aren’t typically in their species skillset, as well as being especially powerful to utilize it ]
- He posses the abilities of, phasing, possession, kinesis (many different kinds), invisibility, telepathy, and short moments of time where he can have a physical body. He tends to forget he’s a ghost leading to numerous times where you’ve accidentally injuried yourself and he rushes to your side to give aid, only for his to hand phase through you instead of truly helping. He feels guilty not being able to help you.
There’s a secret part of him that feels less guilty and more angry, about being incapable of touching you all the time. Sometimes, he wishes he was Ace just so he could wrap some part of him around you, but alas, he can only do so in short intervals, which just… isn’t enough.
- Has a habit of just, watching. You’ve caught him at your window at night. He insists coming in without permission is unlawful, to which you tell him looking at you through glass is just plain creepy. You now invite him for tea parties, yet that still doesn’t stop him from longingly gazing through the glass that separates you two. (freak)
- Glows a bright red when he’s either angry or extremely flustered. You walked in one time when the former was happening and were temporarily blinded, in your own temporary home no less…
With the latter… he was helping you figure out a crossword puzzle from a lost book you had found during the night. When he helped you figure it out, he swears your smile was so bright he was blinded. In your case, at least you didn’t need a lantern to see the page anymore.
- He has numerous stitches on his body, his mouth, his neck, and his heart, or at least, where it would’ve been had he still had it. In the short times when he decides to take on a physical form, he enjoys letting your hands trace over the numerous threads through his skin… He won’t admit it, but it’s a comfort.
- When he’s working, his exposition completely changes. You get scared of him, you forget just how determined he is to being the pinnacle of perfection, even as a monster.
- Survival: Fear and Grievances, prays on victims through Possesion and death.
Ace Trappola & Deuce Spade [ Zombies ]
- Infectious Bites. There have been many close calls where the two almost bit you, secretly hoping to turn you into them in their delusions of being with you forever, it never works though cause when they try, you turn and give them a smile that haunts them so bad they can’t bear the thought of you hating them. The idea always rears its ugly head back to them, but then you treat the two like a regular human and, unknowingly, save yourself just a little longer.
- Anatomy Control (Disassembling limbs and still having control). Deuce has a very common occurring tendency, that leads him to lose his limbs on occasion. He can still feel what they feel, but when they separate from him, they tend to have a mind of their own. There have been several times where you’ve been the one to return a limb, typically his hand, and he’s all fidgety cause it just refuses to let go of you.
“I… I promise this doesn’t usually happen…! I have no idea why it won’t let go of you” with how lovingly it was stroking your hand earlier (which you won’t mention to Deuce)… You’re not too sure either… Does it like the feeling of warmth? “Next time this happens, just… Feel free to stab it” he looks dejected, but you accept his offer nonetheless.
- Ace has asked to sleep with you in your bed because his grave is so cold and lonely. You wouldn’t want him dying alone a second time right? That’s too cruel. He was surprised when you accepted, even more so when you said there weren’t rules like “You have to stay on this side of the bed!” or “Don’t touch me!”, he asked you if you had a thing for him, to which you only quirk up your eyebrow at his question.
“Hm…? I’ve slept with someone before, I don’t think it’s that serious.” … What. Who’s this someone?! He doesn’t end up sleeping as he’s left wondering who you’ve been with before him, little does he know this someone was just a reserved monster hunter who was watching over you with a fever.
- They’re the most attached to you, in a physical sense. Considering at least one, or even more, of the limbs on the duo is just bones, along with Deuce missing an eye and Ace missing part of his face, it’s a bit hard for them to go out without giving people a heart attack. So… They break into wherever you’re temporarily staying, which is typically an abandoned house, and accompany you in every location they possibly can. One very worrying thing they do, is stick their limbs in your bag. They won’t admit it but, it’s cause they miss you. You need to tell them sticking Ace’s eye in there to keep watch is NOT okay.
- Survival: Eating Humans
Cater Diamond [ Ghost…? ]
- Phasing, possession, invisibility, telepathy. Though you don’t see him use any of these capabilities very much. You wonder why but never go through with asking him, how could you when he looks so happy to be in your presence? At least, you think he’s happy. You can never tell if it’s genuine or not… His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes like everyone else…
- Whenever he decides to spend his time with you, his face is never close enough in view for you to decipher any real features of his. What color are his eyes? What does his nose look like? Is the diamond you remember on him even there? The basics of a face are in your memory, but you can never remember the more eunique traits of his. You… Don’t know why that is at all. It feels like you’re forgetting something from the first meeting you had with Cater, but your suspicions tell you it had something to do with his face.
- Even though he’s a ghost, it feels like he forgets something about that sometimes… It’s different from Riddle, who simply forgets he no longer has a physical body, it’s like he doesn’t remember he even died in the first place. You’ve seen him all alone, the sunny disposition he proposes to everyone is gone, a hollow feeling in his vicinity. You couldn’t hear it clearly, the only word heard at all being sisters.
- The moment he sees you it’s like he’s scrambling to change his disposition, walking up to you casually as he mentions how cute you look today, ahh you should take him shopping! He’ll be discreet don’t worry—
“Cater, how did you die?”
“Wha—? W-who cares about that, come on just take me to town kay’?” you do end up bringing him as he points at things he’ll never be able to use, commenting on how cute they would be to have and show off, even attempting to wrap his arm around your shoulder before laughing off at his arm phasing through your body and making your spine shiver.
You don’t miss the way his laugh is more forced than usual, and obvious distress at what happened. Why is he so upset he can’t touch you? Is there a reason he wants to so bad? For once, you wanna know.
“Cater, lets go on a date again.”
“I didn’t know you were so up-front…! But, if you’re asking then I just can’t say no can I?”
- Survival: Fear and Grievances, prays on victims through Possesion and death(?)
Trey Clover [ Frankenstein ]
- The sight of a giant, buff, green, adult man, hovering over you like a doting boyfriend as you bake is certainly a domestic sight to behold. Though it becomes less heartwarming when you remember this scientifically resurrected man is 8 feet tall, he can basically reach the top shelf when he’s kneeling.
- Just like the zombies of Heartslaybul, Trey can disassemble his limbs, but he has more control over it than the other two… You’ve had a fair share of moments where you’re trying to eat and a stitched up hand crawls towards you with a piece of cake., it’s sweet, but horrifying in the dark.
- He’s a glorified brick wall, if brick walls could also fight back at insane speeds. You watched him unintentionally scare off another Monster Hunter once, they weren't intimidated by his size at all, even attempting to throw a punch at him to show off. Their try immediately backfired as Trey stood unfazed, watching them run away cradling their hand. Before you can blink, Trey’s already towering over you asking if there was a pastry he should try making for you. Honestly… You need to tell Crowley to hire better employees.
- Trey has electrocuted you once. Totally unintentional on his part, but if someone asked him what he thought when he did it, he would tell them with a soft smile you look cute. Meanwhile, you’re on the other side of the room trying to make sure Trey doesn’t increase the voltage next time he tries holding you. Everytime he attempts to do just that, you’re quick to jump out the way. He’ll smile softly but he can’t deny he’s a little disheartened... Seems he’ll just have to rebuild that trust.
- Despite all the stitches on his body, unlike Riddle, there aren’t open wounds on his body, so he’s technically the only one who can accompany you without drawing too much attention. It’s a secret kept between the two of you, but whenever you head into the square, you both walk to as many bakeries as possible, tasting whatever you can afford. Whenever he put something in his mouth, he’d make an offhand comment about his family. You wonder… How did Trey even resurrect like this?
- Survival: Undocumented
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Leona Kingscholar [ Beastman Mummy ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- His skin is wrapped in so many bandages, all of them he can bend at his will. You’re curious as to what he looks like under the fabric, but one glare and the feeling of binds grappling around your body is enough for you to reconsider. That’s only if you attempt to look underneath, if not, he’ll sit in silence as you admire each carefully placed bind, cracking an eye open to watch you close in on him in curiosity.
- Watching him manipulate sand just to make places to sleep is entertaining, but being dragged into his timeframe of napping is surely not. The grip he has on you is ironclad as the two of you lay on the grainy bed, if you complain about sand getting into your clothes he’ll make a sly suggestion of “Just take off your clothes” before retreating into a slumber that you can’t shake him from. Even if you did decide to do that, how would you even take them off…? He won’t let go of you…!
- Despite being a former corpse, if he was still mortal, he’d essentially be an ultimate being. He’s super strong, fast, he’s quick at recovering, and even if you did cut off a limb of his he’d regrow in just half the time it took to get it off him. To make it worse he’s handsome, has an air of nonchalance, and a prince. You can just imagine the sound of Crewel and Rollo nagging at you for thinking such heinous things about a beast you’re meant to be killing.
- Whenever Leona controls the dead, you hide behind him. Not because you’re scared of his army, but because they remind you of Ace and Deuce, and you’d rather not see versions of themselves not heed danger whatsoever. You were half awake one time when he summoned corpses, your blurry eyes mistaking two of them for Deuce and Ace, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and pulling them into you. You only realize it’s not them when Leona grabs your from behind and hoists your body onto his shoulder like a sack.
“Wrong Zombies.” he makes an effort to have you sleep more before you accidentally kill yourself for such a small error.
- That little pain inducement ability he has? It sucks. It’s funny when he uses it to telepathically pinch Ruggie when he’s away. But, being reduced to a puddle of pure hurt and strain is the worst. Just watching Leona use it makes you remember… nevermind. Seeing his victims fall to their knees as he drains them of their life force is depressing, the burden of your defeat rearing its shame when he just knocks back and naps as their bodies turn to sand.
- Even when his tail wraps around your leg in a form of adoration, you can’t help but feel disdain for yourself remembering all those who are now dust on the ground because of him.
- Survival: Feeding off vitality
Ruggie Bucchi [ Werehyena ]
- Please tell Ruggie to stop tracking you with his senses and your stolen possessions, you’ve been scared too many times by him popping up out of nowhere. It’s even more horrifying in the night since his face looks so scary (His happy face looks the same as his hunting face. Don’t tell him though, he’ll rob you of your belongings in pettiness.)
- His eyes are so hypnotizing, both poetically and realistically. You’ve seen him mesmerize loving couples into handing over their belongings in his human form, only to revisit them later in the night to consume the rest of his steal. You asked him once what the point is in getting their stuff in the day only to kill them in the night, and he just smiles before softly placing a piece of bread on your lips.
You never take the bread from his hands, allowing him to feed you himself all the time, feeding you with the same hands stained with a bloody ending to a romance story. Maybe… it’ll get his pension for praying on lovers to soften, the thought of having his own might put his thoughts to bay… Who are you lying to that won’t happen, it’s how he lives, and how he will continue to live.
You know it won’t change when he’s desperately trying to hide the red stains under his nails.
- He’s very keen on being in your vicinity. No reason, you think, but he’s just always there, talking to you like normal. Which is weird, why does it feel so normal? The more you ponder it, maybe he’s more natural in your life cause of how equalized he is. He’s laidback yet cunning at the same time, not too good, but not too heinous (if you ignore his murders.) It’s a nice change of pace from people who see, to be heavily relent on one trait. Even though with a kinder personality feel weird… So, talking to Ruggie is a nice escape—
“Ruggie, did you take my wallet again?”
“How’d you think I paid for that bread? Shihihi— Augh! Ow okay I'm sorry—!” he makes it up to you by giving you his portion of food. You pretend to take it out of pettiness, but late at night when he’s sleep, you wrap it up and leave it on his bedside for when he goes hungry in the night.
When he does wake up, he knows who left the meal by his side, including the extras that lay next to it.
- Survival: Eating anything he can get his hands on
Jack Howl [ Human…? ]
- You always wondered how Jack got so built. Of course, if it’s from training, you would never undermine his efforts. But, his strength is so hardcore you doubt it’s even humanly possible. There had been a speech from Crowley in town you attended with both Jack and Rollo, all three of you booted to the very back. When you commented on how you couldn’t see, Rollo told you “We could always move forward—” But he’s cut off with shock when he watches Jack effortlessly carry you onto his shoulder, keeping you rested there for an hour straight without complaint, even shifting the way he holds you depending on what you wanted at the moment.
“We could’ve just gone up there, Jack… Now put them down…!”
“I don’t mind, They seem comfortable here anyway.” You can’t help but laugh at Rollo's overbearing nature, patting his head as you hold onto Jack.
- Hes never answered you before on when or how he joined the hunting organization, literally. He’s so silent when you ask, but the moment you switch to a different topic he’s chiming in his opinion like he didn’t just give you the silent treatment for 15 minutes. He told you he’d never lie to you, so, you guess he was telling the truth about that statement.
- Whenever Rollo is unavailable to you, Jack essentially works as his “replacement” according to Sam. You wouldn’t call him that though, Jack cares for you the same way Rollo does, but he’s a lot less… Restricted towards you. You can go out at midnight with him as long as you let him walk you back home, You can eat more junk food, and you can even go into the forest with him outside of a job! Rollo is oblivious to it, but there are moments where you might, just a tinsy weensy bit, prefer having Jack watch over you compared to him. You still love Rollo though! (Never say that to him directly, he will dissect what kinda of love it is you’re implying for him.)
- Overall, you can’t wait to see him again when you go to Savanaclaw! You’re curious as to why he hasn’t reached back to you after the 2 months he's been there though…
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Azul Ashengrotto [ Slime Kraken ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- His true form is huge, being bigger than the size of 5 pirate ships combined. When he shrinks himself though, he’s only 7 feet long and huge, rather than 50 feet long and huge! Less scary right? (it’s not, you’re just trying to delude yourself.)
- It’s more dangerous when considering the substance he’s made out of is multi-purpose, making him invisible, essentially unkillable, and extremely capable in offense. You’ve seen it first hand considering you’ve been on the receiving end of his malice once. If you have to admit it though, it’s a lot scarier watching him use his skills on unknowing sailors. You collect what remains of them, and set them to rest far away from the sea.
- During the night, you’re divided on whether or not he can be considered horrifying, or beautiful. The twins glow, but they're limited to their one-color pallets. Azuls body, channels the light from his surroundings, making him more than one color sometimes. It’s a bit saddening when you notice how insecure he is about the material of his body, even using magic to appear more human-like in his state. If you tell him he’s handsome in his regular slime state, he’ll flush in embarrassment. (If you go a step further and hug him as such a gross substance, goodness, he’s already looking through books at the bottom of the ocean about human courting. Never mind you’re still trying to kill him, he’ll slay your heart if he has to!)
- If he uses Magic, he, can turn himself into a human for a little. He never really had a reason to go on land, he’s powerful in the sea, even ranked as one of the 7 most wanted monsters. But, now that you’re in his life, he wants to follow you and see what it would be like to live with you as a person. He doesn’t call it a date, but he thinks of it as one, even imagines himself telling Jade and Floyd (Little does he know they already beat him to the punch on that one…). You take him by the hand and the urge to stay on land with you becomes even stronger. But, so does the need to have you in the ocean with him.
- His tentacles along with his crazy strength, just make him an even harder foe to fight. Truly… What are you meant to do when you’re sitting down and in his sleep, he just clings onto you with a tentacle, and now you just, can’t leave? Besides he’s asleep, how are they latching onto you so hard… They don't have a mind of their own— You remember seeing an article that wrote about such a phenomenon. Okay, so maybe they do act of their own volition… why do they cling so desperately to you?
- Survival: Eating as much of whatever is available
Jade Leech & Floyd Leech [ Skeleton Sea Serpents ]
- During your stay in their abode, you’d wake up to Floyd squeezing you so hard you swear one of the bones on his tail were gonna puncture you. He’s too strong, horrifically strong to the point you fear getting squeezed more than twice a day could genuinely kill you. If you don’t voice this concern, you might risk your death, but if you do, he’ll restrain himself a bit (he couldn’t bear the thought of killing his shrimpy! You’re too fun to play with, let him kiss those sore places better yeah? Besides, just a little biting doesn’t hurt)
- Their senses are so enhanced, it’s just as scary as their strength. You had sliced your hand once, a medium amount of blood pouring out, and before you could even do anything, Jade had swam up to you and latched onto your wrist, pulling you down, almost tugging you into the water, and began licking the wound clean, his eyes empty and his sharp teeth dragging across your skin. You thought he was miles away…?! How did he know you were bleeding…? When he’s done, he pats your hand and smiles before engaging in a casual conversation about your day, uncharacteristically gentlemanly after such a scary display. If you ask him what that was about, he’ll innocently tilt his head and ask you “whatever are you talking about?”
- Just like Azul, their true forms are giant, not as big as his, but still equally as terrifying, the sharp bones that poke out their body further proving this fact.
- Extremely Fast, You’ve seen this first hand when Floyd jumped out of the water and dragged you through the sea to transport you to a “beach date” in the middle of the ocean, in only 3 minutes…He heard of these dates from Azul, “Said he was gonna take you on one, thought it’d be funny if I took yah instead.” You’re unable to inquire what he means by “Azul trying to take you out”, as he’s brightly smiling when he places a sailor's cap on you. The small sight of blood in his canines is all you need to know about where this hat came from.
- Their teeth are sharp that’s for sure, you watched Jade sink his teeth into unsuspecting marine life. The thought of him doing the same to ships 7 times the size of such animals, makes you worried for future sailors, and… For yourself. He flaunts those ivories at you so much, you’re worried he’s trying to hint at his insatiable hunger. (He’s doesn’t bite like Floyd does, but honestly, you’d prefer if he bit you instead of grazing his teeth on your skin so sensually)
- They like to drag you into the water with them. You’re sure it’s how they have fun, the only exposure to the human world other than you is Azul and artifacts they collect from ships they were responsible for destroying. So of course, they wouldn’t know the first thing of human play, yet… you have the underlying feeling they have a reason for doing such a thing that isn’t just entertainment.
- Survival: Anything they can fit in their mouths (Whether it be marine life or ships. Though, these two have a specific craving for human)
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Kalim Al-Asim [ Genie ]
- Extremely strong, every time he hugs you he completely forgets his strength. In the moments where he does realize it, he’s quick to apologize. If you tell him where you hurt, he’ll insist “kissing” it will make it better! It’s what worked on his siblings, so it must work for you! If you don’t tell him… he’ll cry, so it’s better to just tell him.
- Wishmaking. He insists on letting him give you a wish, after all, you did save him from being lonely! (You’re not sure if you could call it “saving” considering you were trying to kill him… and still are… ). You never accept his offer, with the knowledge that everything has a price, (Thank you Azul for such a good lesson learned) which makes him sad, but in your awkward ways of comfort, you tell him the only wish you want, is a hug. He is ecstatic and wraps his arms around you, tight. You’re regretting your wish now. Though, the glare from two pairs of slit eyes tells you you’re not the only one who doesn’t like the wish.
- Too many riches too count… You wake up, gifted in gold and jewels, you’re halfway through the day, more diamonds and rubies, going to sleep… Gold and emeralds. You told Kalim no more. He found a loophole and just replaced the cheaper items with more expensive ones. It’s technically not more so… You make a reminder to dump it all on Rollo, he’ll surely enjoy having money to tend to his garden. (He won’t. You already know he’ll refuse anything from a monster. But, if you bat your eyelashes enough he might accept it.)
“Kalim, I don’t need any more rubies.” You’re sat on his golden throne, the optimistic wish granter between your legs with his arms wrapped around your waist as he sits on the floor, a beaming smile making you hesitant on his next words.
“Then I’ll just give you more diamonds!” … Truly, you thought genies could only give out three wishes, why does it feel like this one wants to give you more than that… It’s gotten to the point where you think he wants only you to be the one he grants anything to, going so far as finding a way to bypass the rules. He even gave you his lamp, which you gave back to Jamil upon receiving it.
- You do wonder… Where are the rest of the people Kalims granted desires to? Even more so, the rest of the genies, as far as you’re concerned, Crowley said there was only one left (that he wanted to get his greedy hands on). If you had just searched Kalim and Jamils shared space, surely you would’ve found the corner filled with broken lamps in it.
Survival: Not sure, Either immortal or some secret to survival.
Jamil Viper [ Snake ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- Half snake half man, his lithe body is enough to give you pause no matter how many times you see it, even after seeing the leeches who have a similar body. You think the reason might be more cause of his intimidating eyes rather than his actual body however, 2 sharp slits are enough to make anyone rethink their judgment.
- When he sleeps, he unknowingly wraps around you, his human half bunching you in his arms as if he isn’t squeezing your legs. You think it’s just his instincts using use as warmth considering he’s cold-blooded, so you let him (Little do you know he’s perfectly warm enough, his body is just drawn to you for some reason). When he wakes up, he considers poisoning himself from embarrassment.
- Venomus, the long pointed fangs could tell you that much. When he sheds a tooth after meeting you, he doesn’t toss it away like he used to, he finds a piece of string and slides it through the solid, letting you watch him in skepticism as he slithers towards you, gently placing the newly formed necklace in your palm as his forked tongue sticks out. (He also left a little venom trapped inside, in case anyone gets a little too close than wanted.)
- Don’t stare into his eyes to long, or else you’ll find yourself entranced by the slits in his pupils, and completely hypnotized without even his knowledge. It’s like he’s so enchanted by you that he forgets he can do something like that. When he realizes what he’s done, an hour goes by before you come to. You don’t feel any different, but one looks at your wrist adorned with a snake bracelet that wasn’t there before tells you something happened…
You can’t move it from its place, but you honestly don’t want to, it’s pretty. Works perfectly well in Jamil's favor, if you had, you definitely would’ve noticed the two holes punctured into your skin by a familiar set of fangs—
“Jamil, Kalim gave me his lamp again.”
“… Really?” He’s quick to take it off your hands. If only he could wish instead… it would make his life so much easier.
- Survival: Undocumented
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Vil Schoenheit [ Incubus ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- You’re human. You’re not immune to charm and flirtation. It’s disappointing that Vil is so good at what he does. You haven’t given into temptation, at least, not yet.
- Shapeshifting, he’s told you before if you have someone in mind you’d ever want to do such things with, he can transform into them if you hope to practice your confession, when you tell him nobody comes to mind, you fail to notice the devious smile that perches on his lips in victory. It seems the only face that will appear in your brain in such moments of vulnerability will be his, and that’s enough for him.
“Though, Since I used to see Neige almost every day maybe his? He has seen me in moments even Rollo hasn’t…”
What?
- Feasting on the vitality of humans is something commonly known for incubi, you’ve asked Vil before if you’re going to die soon from him touching you… You already know he’s an amazing actor so when he answers you, you can’t tell if he’s lying or if it’s the truth, especially when he takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips like a prince, perfectly playing off the suspicion in his answer.
- You think it’s unfair he’s so attractive, if he had only half his looks it would at least be easier to not stare at his pretty features— what are you thinking…?! You can already hear the scolding of everyone else telling you how heinous it is to think such thoughts, but once again, you're distracted by the feeling of Vil dipping into the couch next to you, offering a drink as if you two were just ordinary people. To be fair, his whole survival depends on how well he can interact with humans… He only smiles when you take the drink.
- Making Hallucinations is just common practice for Vil, Rook praising him for all the people who gave into his temptations from his feats. You were once sure he had never used it on you, you could never fall for such a puny delusion, but now, your confidence has faded. Things in your memory are blurry, unclear.
Has… Vil has been using it on you…?
- Survival: Corruption of humans through desire, feeding off vitality
Rook Hunt [ Boogeyman ]
- You make an extreme effort to avoid all manners of shadows since you’ve met him. Lurking in the dark is his forte, and it doesn't bode well for you because almost all your work is done in the dark. Even then… your efforts are in vain because you still feel the sensation of eyes burning into you at all times of the day. In these cases, you retreat to Vil in hopes he can rein him in a bit.
- Shapeshifting is a rare and dangerous ability. Unfortunately, Rook of all monsters has it. Even in places with no signs of shadows, it feels like he’s still there. It doesn’t make it any better that he hints towards that being the truth.
“Ah trickster, you looked magnifique in that bathing suit!”
“You were the waiter who kept offering me drinks weren’t you.”
“The way I observe my muse shall not be disclosed!”
- Watching Rook feast on fear isn’t scary, but rather… unsettling…? He places his mouth near his victim as what you can only assume to be their fear twists up into his throat, the horrified human trembling in terror. Such a scary expression quickly disappears when he turns to you with the happiest smile and gushes to the poor human about how wonderful you are, rubbing his cheek to yours like a sappy couple.
“Ah! Trickster…! You are quite sweaty! Shall I dry you off—” you shut him up by throwing the same towel he was about to clean you up with, in his face.
- His skill set is already horrifying, but adding in the basic ability of enhanced strength just makes it worse. You can’t even begin to count how many walls Rook has torn through for you… A simple ow, and what you originally thought to be a brick wall, is now a giant hole with the boogeyman at your call. It’s harder to be nice to him when he’s insistent that you train your capabilities on him. The amount of times Rook has turned a stab into a firm held waltz is just too many.
“Non non, You must hide your hand better trickster.”
“I would do that if you weren't cradling me into a dip right now Rook— Stop dancing with me already!”
- Survival: Fear and Grief
Epel Felimer [ Newbie Vampire ]
- He's asked you before if he could suck you dry. He honestly expected you to say no, but when you reached your arm out and told him to just not turn you, he was sure you must be some sort of blessing in disguise. When he’s done, he begs you not to tell Vil, as the incubus banned him from feeding. You’ll come to regret it at some point though, as now he continuously comes back to you in times of hunger.
- He runs at such fast speeds, it’s incredible to you, you’ve clapped for him a couple times, but, every-time you did… he got distracted and would trip. He wishes the sun would come up and kill him in those moments.
- Compulsion is a dangerous thing, you shouldn’t be shocked, but luckily for you, he… doesn’t seem to know how to use it the way it should be utilized. The moment he does finally master such an ability, you’ll have to find someway to get past that. He did try using it on you once, a simple command asking you to tell him how “manly” he is, somehow, someway, the command turned into something much more… embarrassing. He stands in bewilderment at the way your hands are cupping your face, endlessly praising Epel about how amazing he is, and how you wish to stay with him forever.
Vil and Rook stepped in to save you. He was sat in the corner as a punishment.
- His hunger is, insatiable. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a monster so bloodthirsty. It’s like he has some goal to just, feast on as many people as he can… He mistook you as a stranger he could freely feast on, jumping on you, ready to sink his fangs into your neck. He’s only narrowly stopped when the moon shines on your face and he knows it’s you. If it wasn’t, whoever took your place would not doubt be dead.
- Survival: Blood
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Idia Shroud [ Reaper ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- With how moody Idia is, you forget what his occupation is until he shows up at your door with the scythe he uses to escort the dead.
- Reapers aren’t necessarily evil or good, which is why you’re always conflicted about how to feel about Idia. Should you… Make your decisions based off his personality rather than what he is to slay him—? Why is he whispering about how all the other monsters should drop dead— Ah, he thinks they’re cooler than him.
- You essentially work as a discounted vent session as Idia talks about how everyone else is so much worthier than him to be slain by hunters. They all have cool abilities and cool looks, what is he stuck with? An edgy cloak and a tool farmers use to cut hay—
- His rant is cut short at the sound of a cheap board game slamming on the table, his eyes looking up to you placing a game piece on the spot, signaling him to take his turn as you tell him how he’s “the only one you find playing games with fun”. Truly, you must be one of the kindest souls he’s had the fortune of meeting, he should know, half of the spirits he escorts are huge douches.
- It just makes him all the more worried about bringing you to the after life.
- Even though Idia doesn’t have a reason to actively hurt humans, it’s still worrying when he describes to you in detail of his After life Capabilities. He once told you a story about how a guy was acting so high and mighty he trapped him in the space between life and death, only coming back to laugh at him when the man was practically broken. He only stops his retelling when he looks up and sees the most hurt expression on your face.
- After that, he sits up before you can even say anything, leaving immediately as he buries his head in his hands. The next day, he’s at your door as you silently stare at him, his form of retribution for your hurt being whatever you mentioned wanting during the week. You accept his gift, but that still doesn’t stop the fear of what Idia does to the souls he guides with a lack of fondness.
- Survival: Unable to Die. (Speculation)
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Malleus Draconia [Dragon Gargoyle… And… something else?]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- Heavy durability, as he is pure stone. in times of desperation, you watch as green sparkles fly around the man as stone turns soft. His spell doesn’t last long but in his desire he chooses to pepper you in kisses with smooth lips. The first time he attempted to romantically place a peck on your arm, you cringed at the feeling of rough stone on your skin. It hurt his feelings so he opted to just spell himself instead.
- Heavy. He didn’t wanna move away from a doorway you had to exit through to leave. You tried lifting him out of the way, you don’t think you’ve ever tried so hard to move something before. He thought it was an attempt at a hug, so you ended up being smooshed in his arms for an hour before Lilia saved you.
- Camaflouge, the stone he’s made of, and moss that grows on his body can be manipulated in any way he wishes, even his size, it’s scary watching him go from his regular 6 feet to an astonishing 10. This trait of his has served numerous moments where you’re surveying his castle only to feel arms pulling you back into a stone exterior. Your reflexes are swift to throw a punch, only to have the cruel reminder of rock busting your hand.
“Ah forgive me, I did not mean to hurt you Child of hunters”
“My hand is broken Malleus.”
“We can just get you a new hand can we not?” That night serves as the first of having to tell Malleus he can’t always spell you when you’re injured. To this, he tells you that’s nonsense and he’ll expend all his reserves for you.
- Considering he’s also a Dragon, flight, and fire breathing really shouldn’t surprise you. What does surprise you is when he looked more dragon than gargoyle sometimes, his eyes becoming more lively, scales being more obvious, and his wings and horn being truer than they’ve ever been. You have a sneaking suspicion his instincts change forms too, his already heavy clinginess increasing tenfold. You’re either held by his clawed fingers or wrapped in his wing.
- Despite Malleus being marked as one of the most dangerous kills possible, you find it extremely easy to… ask him to do something. In fits of anger, he’ll cling impossibly close to you, trying desperately to attempt to cease the ugly feeling festering inside him. He’ll tell you he never wants you to leave his side. If you’re not feeling like being trapped inside, all you need to do is wrap your arms around his neck and lean into his ear with a low whisper, asking him to let you go. For a moment, his grip will tighten, but slowly he relents, his stone eyes watching you wave goodbye.
- Though, truthfully, You don’t feel like you’re free… Sometimes, you notice gargoyles in places where there shouldn’t be any. Sooner or later, his resolve might break, asking him for such freedoms might not be as easy.
- Not only that but… There’s definitely a side to him that isn’t just some Dragon Gargoyle. Whenever you have the chance to dig deeper into it, you’re met with a wall that separates you from the truth. Just what is Malleus?
- Survival: ???, Unable to Die. Do not attempt.
Lilia Vanrouge [ ??? ]
- Caution: Possibly capable of Magic.
- Certainly the most mysterious of the bunch… To be fair, everyone in the Diasmonia space is filled with anonymity. He doesn’t have any specific qualities that warrant a decisive conclusion, but you’re confident that he’s not a human. Sometimes he has wings, sometimes fangs, sometimes spider legs, just what is he?! (He has used this capability to scare you on numerous occasions, taking the form of a giant wasp and chasing you once. When he gets bored though, he clings onto you endlessly, not as bad as Malleus but still very often. You woke up to him in your bed once, and now he occasionally appears there to “wake you up” by sliding his arms around your waist. Please tell him you’ll only let him do this if he stops turning into freaky stuff…)
- You have no doubt he’s one of the monsters that eat humans. You took a sniff of his red juice once, it’s definitely blood, and considering why you’re here, it’s for sure not animal blood. Out of guilt for failing whatever human is his current meal, you offered up yourself as a blood bag, and he happily indulged, pining you to the table and nipping that delicious spot on your neck. Out of courtesy for everyone else in the castle... You lock the door.
But it doesn’t matter, you’re quite sure he didn’t honor the agreement anyway, as he’s happily feasting on a mystery meat you know isn’t any creature near this castle.
- He always keeps you on your toes, one of the moments being when he used his flight to carry you all over the sky, laughing at you and your body clinging onto him in fear of dropping to your death. It makes it worse that he doesn’t do it slow, he flies so fast you can hear the wind slicing through the air, your arms only wrapping around his neck trying to get even closer than you already are.
“Lilia…! Lilia! Put us down—! I’m gonna die…!” you can feel his hand pat your head as he tightens his grip on your body.
“Aww…don’t worry, as long as I’m here you won’t fall!” you believe him, but that doesn’t make you feel any safer at all…
- Despite how decrepit the Diasmonia castle is, there are still photos of its rein on the wall. In an attempt to know your targets better, you look at some of them, immediately recognizing Lilia in one of the frames… But, his aura seemed different, more cold, more cruel… He was bloodied, and you’re sure that body he’s holding is what you think it is, but, he doesn't have that usual crazy happy look he has when he catches his next meal.
-Just how did Lilia end up like this?
- Survival: Undocumented
Sebek Zigvolt [ Swamp Monster ]
- He says you’re pathetic. (He continues to leave flowers specific from his swamp at your door) You’re not… You’re not very sure what he thinks of you…? He says you’re a coward, yet continues to gift you plants after you offhandedly mentioned how you think they’re pretty. So… What does that mean…?
- Maybe they’re poisonous… Heh… Maybe you can use them on Crowley—
- Your plan of attack is interrupted as a booming voice bursts your ear drums, the source of distress being the green being covered in moss, water, and vines. You follow the trail of plants leading from the swamp to the creature behind you, a bear, wrapped in controlled swamp foliage by the monster of the water. Sebek huffs and chastises you for such carelessness, but the feeling of you scooping his hands into yours and thanking him with a smile makes the words on his tongue go numb. Not for too long though, as he tells you obviously a beast like him can handle such lowly creatures, no wonder you didn’t notice.
- Before you came along, according to Silver, the water he resides in used to be a mess, as he said “Lilia believes it to fit my role of Swamp Monster, so I shall keep it!” so he kept it the way it is and let it out control. But, apparently, after you, it subtly became neater, flowers adorning the ridges of where once was messed moss, his water adorned with petals of your favorite color, the place even smelling like your favorite scent. He tells you it’s just a change of scenery for Malleus, not anyone else, you only smile at him, not replying. Malleus doesn’t have the same favorite scent.
- Like his fondness for nature, his power of water is equally as tantalizing to watch. He didn’t know you were there, but you were watching him train, your eyes becoming more entranced in his movements when you saw him become sidetracked from his patience for a moment. A book was laid in front of him, one that he delved deeper and deeper into with interest. It seems he has a fondness for literature, so after that, you would leave books you had at his residence, watching with amusement at how fascinated he was. Unfortunately, you walked up to him once when he was meant to be training, and in attempt to hide his hobby, he flicked his hands and let the water swallow every page in aqua.
“I have been training this whole time human…!”
“Ah, I got you all those. Now they’re wet…” He acts like he doesn’t care, but he secretly feels bad, so discreetly, he attempts to piece every page lost in the water together before presenting you with a new book.
- Survival: Swamp
Silver [ ??? ]
- Honestly, his abilities are lighthearted when not used to a heavy extent. He can eat dreams of those who sleep, typically, nightmares. There have been rumors spreading of a night creature who creeps into rooms, sucking the ambitions and hopes of its victims… They’re not wrong, if he’s called upon too often he’ll strip the person of all their wants and, dreams. Go a step further, and he might as well suck the life out of a human.
- But… You know he doesn’t mean to… At least you hope not.
- Sometimes your judgment feels misplaced when you watch him go overboard in his hunger, his trance only capable of being broken when you grab him by the shoulder, maybe even point a blade at him in desperation.
- He can travel into dreams. You’ve caught him lurking in your conscious one too many times to count. It’s not like he’s devouring your fantasy, but you can’t help and wonder why he’s almost always there. He doesn’t change what’s happening in it, he doesn’t destroy it so… Why is he there so often?
- it’s ironic, a creature who lives off the manifestation of people’s conscious, sleeps so much. You remember sorting through flowers Sebek had “gifted” you, (You’re not sure if it counts as gifted considering he threw them at you saying “they’re frail, just like a weak human.”) and Silver had sat right next to you, begining a sentence before dropping his head into your lap, a deep slumber commencing on your thighs.
- He wakes up ready to apologize, but the feeling of your hands gently playing with his hair, is enough for him to fall back asleep immediately.
- He’s a lot more welcoming to stay with compared to the rest of the monstrous residents of Diasmonia. If you’re free from Malleus and Lilias's grasp, you’re quick to run over to him. He’s typically sleeping, so, when he’s nodding off you sit down next to him, slowly placing your head on his shoulder as you fall asleep. If you’re to be trapped here for a bit, it wouldn't hurt to have some form of comfort in this run-down place.
As you fall into slumber, you secretly wish to meet Silver in a dream again.
It’s coincidental that he wakes up the moment you place your head on him, it’s a pretty sight to him. He hopes… you’ll stay here, he enjoys your company too much. As soft snores leave you, his hands move on their own, grasping onto your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours.
It’s selfish, he was raised to do what he must to survive as a monster by his father. So he knows, what he feels is natural, but there’s a lingering thought he shouldn’t feel this heavy about a human… He doesn’t wanna let you go.
- Survival: Dream Feasting
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Neige Leblanche [ Angel ]
- It’s… a bit unnerving how kind he is… You understand he’s a supposed Guardian Angel specially dedicated to your well but goodness, he was not very good at his job.
- He essentially watches you go about your day, occasionally blessing you to see your eyes light up with happiness.
- Despite how much he grooms the feathers on his back, he never lets you get too close to them, folding them back up when you’re near enough to see them more intricately or graze your fingers on them. It never bothered you, truly, he’s so nice to to you you could never be suspicious of him.
- He had to attend to personal matters once when you were eating together, his wings fluttering before he ascended. A pair of feathers had fallen in place of where he once was, One plumage was as white as snow, and the other…
- Was as dark as ebony.
- Survival: Being Good
Rollo Flamme [ Human ]
- He’s always been by your side.
- He would never be one of those wretched filthy beasts. He’s always cared for you when you couldn’t care for yourself.
- Don’t look at him like that. Why… Why is there scorn in your eyes…? He’d never hurt you, never.
- You’re the only sanctuary of purity in his life, he wants to embrace you. He always has, your happiness has always been his.
- He has always wanted to save you from the hellish life mother nature had dealt you.
So please…
- Let him hug the one thing he cares for one more time. And…
Forget the white lie he gave you.
- Survival: You
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The day is today. The date you left Rollo without saying even the slightest hint of a farewell. It has been 364 days, without you.
It’s a sorrowing sight for coworkers of his who know how close you are. But, if they had just looked closer, the looming feeling of festering jealousy would no doubt impede their senses.
Rollo knows he can feel it. He will find a way to drag whatever wretched beasts are ruining you with their filth, down to hell.
“Ah! Mr.Flamme, Hello Hello—!” ringed fingers slam mercilessly into the wood of a desk, any harder and he might’ve broken it. “Be careful…! This desk is expensive…!”
“It’s been a year since [Name] left for these jobs… Why aren’t they back?” Rollos on the verge of bursting a vein, the only composure he has left is strung together by the thin thread of hope he has of you coming back, coming back to him.
“Well, My little Birdie is—”
“There is no My, and there is no Birdie, don’t call them that.”
“Possesive much…”
“It’s not posseviness.” Crowley only nods at him, obviously, he doesn’t believe the man, but he’ll pretend if it means moving this conversation along.
“I will answer your question in due time, now would you please… remind yourself why it is you’re here in the first place?”
———
A/n Did I do a shit ton of research about monsters and their abilities for this, a post that was meant to be a shitpost? No, who would do that? (I would). Anyways, I hope this can satisfy Monster!Twst enjoyers while I work on the heartslaybul chapter, I promise I’m working on it to make it the best possible! (Blame the economy for my lack of activity on it)
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mostly-imagines · 4 months ago
Text
I Missed My Funeral
jason todd x reader
aka you learn what happened to jason
warnings: detailed discussion of how jason died, this is not so happy but i can promise you my jason angst will always have comfort
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You wonder if your nightmares are accurate.
Your brain is probably just conjuring up every worst case scenario it can fathom, but maybe there’s truth to one of them. You hope not.
It’s something you haven’t been able to keep out of your mind these past few weeks, and everything seems to remind you of it. When you see his guns, when you’re using a knife to cut up dinner, when you see a car crash on the news, or even when you walk past a fucking pharmacy. The thoughts are everywhere, all the time.
Even as you lay in bed, head on his chest, your mind keeps on drifting where you wish it wouldn’t.
You know he died. He never said it out loud, but you’d seen his autopsy scar plenty of times. You’d always refrained from asking questions, he seemed nervous enough the first handful of times he was around you with his shirt off. Enough time has passed that he’s comfortable being shirtless around you, even okay when you touch his chest. The decrease in boundaries has granted you more solace in one another, but it’s also caused your mind to go wild with possibilities. 
Even now, as you lie against his bare chest, you can’t keep your cat-killing thoughts away.
“You’re being quiet,” He comments, not accusatory, just factual. 
You snap out of reverie, “Sorry, I—”
His hand soothes up and down your arm without pause, “Don’t be sorry. What’s going on?”
“I just…” you look down, thinking over your words. “What…what happened to you?” You ask quietly.
He goes still. 
You immediately regret bringing it up, sitting up from his chest to meet his eyes, “I’m sorry, I don’t need to—”
He shakes his head. The slightest response from him shuts you right up. “No, it’s…it’s okay. Probably should’ve said something by now.”
He nudges your head back down to his chest and you oblige, trying to relax your body against him again. It’s a difficult thing to talk yourself into when his isn’t any more relaxed.
“I…you know I used to be Robin?” His voice is low, hesitant.
You nod.
“Well…I made a mistake—a few mistakes. I wasn’t as careful as I should’ve been and I walked into a trap.”
You’re sure he’s placing more blame on himself than he should, though you don’t know enough to fight him on it yet. You wrap your hand around his forearm that drapes across your chest, a silent affirmation that you’re here with nothing but support and reassurance.
His breath stutters, “The, uh…the Joker set me up and…well, he killed me.”
You don’t want to ask how. You don’t want to know how. But you feel like you have to and it’s selfish and you know that but you can’t leave just it at that. 
It’s a barely audible whisper. You’re not even sure Jason could fully hear the word, but he understands the intent anyway.
His next exhale is shaky, “Yeah, um, that’s the rough part.”
Your head twitches. “That’s the rough part?” You breathe out, scared to hear what’s next.
You can’t see from this angle, but Jason’s eyes are welling over, trying desperately not to let tears fall. It takes him a moment to prepare himself to verbalize the next part. 
“He…he be—” he stops himself. “…He hit me with a crowbar. A lot.”
Oh.
You can physically feel your chest sink.
That’s worse than all the horrifying scenarios you’d built up in your head. That’s…he was beaten to death. For trying to help people. 
You don’t want to leave him in the silence for too long, so you ask the only thing you can think to. 
“How old were you?” 
He drops his head to press his mouth against your head, like he’s trying to ground himself. “Fifteen,” He murmurs into your hair.
Oh.  
You flip over so you’re chest to chest with him and hold him tight. “I’m sorry.”
He wasn’t expecting you to say that. The very very few times he’s had anything even remotely relating to this conversation, the revelation is always met by silence. Or worse.
But you’re sorry. No one’s ever said that to him before. About anything, but especially this. What does sorry even mean in this context? You didn’t do anything, are you sorry for asking? Do you…do you feel bad for him?
He swallows hard, “You’re sorry?”
“Yeah,” You say, furrowing your brow. “You’re a good person, Jay. You’re a really good person and…you didn’t deserve any of the shit that happened to you. Especially that. I hate that you’ve been through so much and I’m sorry.”
He refuses to blink but the tears are threatening to win anyways with nowhere else to go. 
He shakes his head weakly, “It was my own fault.” 
“Jason,” you say seriously. “It was not your fault. You were trying to help someone, weren’t you?”
It takes him a moment to respond to that. “I—yeah. Yes. My mom. My birth mom.” He takes a breath, “He, uh, he was blackmailing her and I tried to help her—I tried. But she gave me up to try and save herself…it didn’t matter in the end.”
While you didn’t know about the history with his birth mom, you’d been sure he’d died helping someone. That’s just who he is—whether he knows it or not.
“There was a bomb and it…” He lets that bit trail off. “I don’t remember the explosion. I think I passed out before it happened.”
He doesn’t remember the explosion. But…
He does remember the other part.
You have to drop your head into his neck so that he doesn’t see the way your eyes well up. 
“Please know you’re a good person. Please,” you plead. “You’re the best person I know.”
“But…” his breath comes out shaky, “No one…no one did anything.” 
The tears fall now, and in spite of the fact that he hasn’t let himself cry in front of anyone since he was ten, he doesn’t feel the usual burning impulse to hide. Not from you.
His voice breaks as he says, “He killed me and he didn’t…”
You sit up straight again and hold his face in your hands, looking him in the eye. “That’s not your fault. Whatever Bruce did or didn’t do, it has nothing to do with you. It’s all about him.”
You gently wipe his tears with your thumb as the weight of his head drops forward, leaving your touch the only thing holding him up.
You know he has…problems with Bruce. You know his death is a sore subject among them for more reasons than the obvious. You also know the Joker still lives and breathes today and there’s some sort of rule or agreement that Jason isn’t allowed out on patrol when he’s loose. 
There’s clear trust issues there, on both sides, but you’ve always had trouble figuring out what exactly Bruce had done to leave Jason so closed off. It pushed him away from his family and caused potentially irreparable scarring to his ability to trust other people. It actually makes a lot of sense that this is what caused the rift between them—you’d been thinking maybe Bruce was the reason Jason died or he couldn’t stop it, but this…this is a different kind of damaging. Fuck, no wonder Jason feels like he doesn’t belong in his family. 
You take a heavy breath, “You’re important. You’re important to me and whatever moral roadblocks Bruce couldn’t get over doesn’t change that—it has nothing to do with how good you are.” 
You’re definitely crying now but at this point it doesn’t matter. It’s more important for him to hear this than for you to pretend like this isn’t as horrible as it is.
He doesn’t look up at you but you can see his own tears dripping off his face. You don’t see him cry very much at all, and definitely not like this.
You sniffle, “Do you wanna switch?”
He nods against your palms and lets you out of his hold to sit up as he shifts lower on the bed and wraps his arms around your torso. You weave one of your hands in his hair and stroke softly. The other rubs soothing patterns on his back, feeling the heaviness of his breath under it.
You kiss the top of his head, “I love you. So much.”
He holds you tighter, murmuring “I love you,” into your chest.
It’s quiet for several minutes after as you both process the words said.
You’re the first to pipe up again, “How did…”
He exhales, “Ah…it’s a little complicated…”
He wants to talk about it another time. That’s fine by you.
Another silent minute passes before, “Bruce isn’t…he’s not a bad…we had a lot of problems after I came back. Both of us. Took a while to get over ‘em.” There’s a beat before, “Still getting over ‘em.” 
You nod, continuing tracing onto his back. His voice is clearer again, stronger.
“Is that why you don’t like being at the batcave?” you ask.
“No,” he murmurs. “It’s ‘cause he keeps the suit on display.”
You look down at him, frowning. “What suit?”
“The robin suit.”
You pause.
“That robin suit?”
He nods.
…what
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for clarification bc i think i thought this was canon oh well
🔮🕯️the reblog witch bids you do her bidding 🕯️🔮
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marvelwitchergilmore · 5 months ago
Text
Surprise Marriage
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you and Logan receive some...surprising news, it leads to a lot of unanswered questions.
Disclaimer: One or two swear words here and there. Mostly fluff, chaos, little angst, yearning, kissing and a happy ending. Not Proof Read.
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The morning, so far, had been slow for Logan. 
Which, thankfully, due to the last couple of years, wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sure, a kid or two might forget to have done their homework or the coffee filter hadn’t been changed. But other than the small, common, everyday mishaps, everything had been pretty normal. 
But somehow, when Logan woke up, something felt off. 
Maybe it was the quiet hallways, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen any other professors in the break room or around the school, or maybe it was the fact that when he walked into the Professor's office, everyone looked at him with…worry. 
“What is it? What’s going on?”
“Logan, I think it’s best if you sit down.”
Logan looked around everybody and they all looked worried, too. Not “someone’s dead” worried, but worried enough to make him feel uneasy. 
“What’s going on?”
“Have you seen Y/n today?”
Logan shook his head. “She had a late night. She’s probably still sleeping.”
Professor X looked at Storm. “Go and get her for me, please.”
Storm nodded and made her way out of the door and towards your bedroom. Meanwhile, Logan was still confused. 
“Charles, what’s going on?”
The man took a small sigh and looked at the papers on his desk before looking back up to Logan. 
“Come on, clearly everyone else knows. What is it?”
The Professor went back and forth with himself for a minute before finally looking back up. “I suppose I should tell you. You’re married, Logan.”
Logan laughed. “Excuse me?”
“I received these papers this morning from a law firm in Oklahoma. It seems it took them a while to find an address for you both.”
“Both? What?”
“Here, take a look for yourself.” The Professor pushed the papers to the edge of his desk where Logan took them with caution and a lot of confusion. 
“What the hell? When were these even..drawn up? Better yet, who’s my wife?”
“Well, that would be the other question except-”
Just as the Professor was about to finish his sentence, the door to his office opened and Storm walked in with you not far behind. Everyone looked at you…worriedly. Like they knew something you didn’t. 
Logan looked annoyed as he flipped through a couple sheets of paper but when he saw you, he held the same expression but only for a minute then it turned into…into something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 
Then you remembered. 
It had been laundry day. 
And you wore one of his shirts to bed. 
Standing in his t-shirt and some plaid pyjama shorts that you found in the back of your wardrobe, your hair down and slightly messy from having only just woken up, you looked around everyone. 
“What’s going on?”
“Well, Y/n-”
“Take a look at this.” Logan handed you the pile of paper he had been reading, and with a slightly tired and confused look, you read through it. 
What was it meant to be? A news article? A government contract? A kid’s essay who’s handwriting they couldn’t read…again?
But no. 
It was anything but. 
Well, maybe a government contract…of sorts. 
“This is a marriage licence.” You spoke aloud. “Logan, why am I looking at a marriage licence at eight in the morning? Oh my god, are Jean and Scott finally getting hitched. About time.”
“No,” Logan said. “It’s ours.”
“What?”
“It’s ours. We’re married.”
You stopped reading. Even if you had pretended to do so, all the words on the page suddenly became blocks of ink that you couldn’t make out. 
“What?”
Then the Professor started to explain. “We were hoping one of you could explain this to us, though if neither of you wish to, that’s completely fine. What happens between a husband and wife is none of our-”
“When did this even happen?” You asked Logan. 
“I don’t know.”
“A law firm in Oklahoma sent it over. Apparently it’s taken them a while to find your address.”
You thought for a moment. Yourself and Logan hadn’t been in Oklahoma for nearly ten months. And you certainly didn’t get married. At least, not from memory. 
“I need to sit down.”
Logan pushed out the chair beside him with his foot and you fell into the softer leather. You had just woken up and all of a sudden you felt like you wanted to sleep for at least a month. 
“We’re married? Are you sure it’s ours? Maybe they got the addresses mixed up and…I don’t know. Got it wrong?”
Logan leaned back and pressed his hand to the side of his face. “Flipped to the back page.”
And so you did. 
There was your name. And Logan’s. Signed and dated. 
You were married to Logan. 
Logan had become your husband as of ten months ago. 
You had become Logan’s wife. 
“I think I’m gonna puke.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Scott said. Jean hit him on the arm. “What?”
“Hard to not be a little offended at that.” Logan said, half under his breath, half to you. 
“Do either of you know when this happened?”
You shook your head, still trying to read the pieces of paper in front of you. When could this have-
“The library.”
“What?” 
Logan sat up. “We signed for a package. What kind of delivery company has us sign a marriage contract instead?”
“I don’t know but it had to be there. That’s the only time we ever…wrote our names, signed a piece of paper. It could have been this.”
“We would have noticed if it said “MARRIAGE LICENCE” at the top of the page.”
Then the bell rang. 
“We…should pick this up later. For now, let's just try and go about today as normal.”
You could only nod in agreement. And as everyone left, the Professor turned to both you and Logan who were sitting facing each other in your chairs. 
“I’ll give you both some time.”
Logan nodded a small thank you and waited until the door closed behind Xavier before he spoke. 
You were silent. Still processing. Your heart was like rapid fire against your chest and your vision was slowly losing focus on the paper in front of you. 
Logan pulled the paper from your hands and placed it on the desk before shuffling closer and holding onto both of your hands. 
“Hey, hey, look at me.” One of Logan’s hands came to rest by the side of your face. “Just breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. Just…take a deep breath.”
“We’re married, Logan.” Your voice was quieter than usual. 
“I know.”
“We’re married.”
Logan nodded. “I know.”
“What are we going to do?”
“That one I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
You shrugged. “What are we meant to do? By all technicality…we’re married. Husband and Wife. According to this piece of paper, I’ve been a fraud to the government by not going by Howlett.”
“So we…we get a divorce?”
“How? Don’t there have to be…grounds for getting divorced?”
“So, we tell them it was a mistake.” Logan offered. “I’m sure we’ll be divorced as quick as we found out we were- are married.”
You could only nod. 
Logan rubbed a thumb over each of your knuckles. “Hey, we’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I woke up and found out I’m a wife with a husband. That’s what’s going on. Jesus, are the lights always this bright in here?”
You covered your closed eyes with one hand, trying your best to stop the pounding in your head. 
“How can you be so calm about this?”
Logan shrugged. “Figure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”
That made you laugh a little. 
“Come on, we need to get to class. And you need to get dressed. Unless you want to teach in your pyjamas.”
You looked down at yourself. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about using your t-shirt. Laundry day.”
Logan smiled. “It’s okay. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”
Hours later, you found yourself in a pair of jeans you fished from the bottom of your semi-fresh clothes pile and decided to keep Logan’s t-shirt on. A, because it’s one of the most comfortable things you’ve worn, and B, it was the only clean top you had. 
And after spending all day teaching classes, you found yourself going through each of your dirty items and throwing them into the washing machine, being careful to make sure there were no sneaky bright or dark colours that made their way into a wash they shouldn’t have been in. 
“Hey.”
You turned to find Storm waiting by the door before walking inside. 
“Hey.”
“How are you feeling?”
“After teaching a bunch of teenagers all day? Exhausted.” You said with a small laugh. And Storm chuckled for a moment before walking around you and leaning on the wall so she was facing you as you unloaded your dirty laundry into the machine. 
“I know that feeling but that wasn’t why I was asking.”
You nodded. You knew that. “I don’t know. It’s just…new information.”
“Have you seen Logan today?”
You shook your head. “Not since this morning. Though he did leave a coffee on my desk when I got back to my classroom after lunch.”
Storm smiled. Between herself and the others (including the kids - though they were yet to find out) Storm thought the best thing to happen was for yourself and Logan to get married. Okay, maybe not in the way it happened. But it was a positive thing. 
They had been watching you and Logan for years, becoming friends, becoming teammates, trusting each other, finding your own…ways together. Like with the coffee. Logan only did that with you. Or how, despite only knowing him a week, seemed to know more about him than anyone else did. 
You were both so close with each other than some of the kids in the school had questioned your relationship status with each other. 
“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”
“What can we do? The most reasonable, and sensible, thing to do is get a divorce.”
Storm crossed her arms. “Have you talked about maybe…staying together?”
“What?”
Storm shrugged. “It’s an idea. Maybe this is a sign telling you both that there’s something more than just friendship. I mean, going off what you’re currently wearing…that is his, isn’t it?”
You looked down. 
“It’s laundry day. He let me wear it.”
“And are you going to give it back, or did he tell you to keep it?”
You were silent and Storm watched as small patches of blush warmed your cheeks. She had her answer. 
“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is your chance to see if there is something more between you and Logan.”
“If there was, something would have happened by now.”
Oh, how Storm wished that was true. 
But sometimes it was agony watching you both together. Like how at Christmas, you fell asleep against him by the fire and Logan smiled. It wasn’t a big grin, but he smiled. Or how you were the only one Logan would let near him when he had been impaled in his shoulder by a six foot rod. Or how you looked at him. And how he looked at you right back. 
There was more than just friendship. A lot more. 
“Just think about it.”
And with that she left. And you were left wondering. 
What the hell was there to think about? You and Logan were friends, sure, but…more? Sure, when you first met him, it felt instant. Instant likeness, instant trust. And that never came easy for you. Or Logan for that matter. And, yeah, maybe once or twice you had thought something could have happened. 
Like the night in the motel room, funnily enough, in Oklahoma. 
It had been one bed and you had both woken up and turned to face each other. You had both been talking for a good twenty minutes when the conversation lulled and you were both there. You felt something. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you felt something. But everything was cut short when the owner of the Motel came to knock on the door so he could fix the leaky tap in the bathroom. 
Or like the night when you all went camping with the kids. 
Somehow, you had found yourself sharing a tent with Logan even though it had been planned for you and Storm to bunk. 
You teased Logan on how happy he was to be bunked with you and not Scott. And for a split second, you could have sworn you saw him blush. Though it was probably out of embarrassment of your teasing. 
But that couldn’t have been something. It couldn’t have meant anything, could it?
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Logan turned and found the last person he expected to be standing by the door. 
“Scott?”
“Figured you’d still be awake and lo and behold, I was right.”
Logan watched as he walked inside and sat across from him. “Have you come to say something, or just be a dick the whole time?”
Scott chuckled, “Maybe a bit of both.”
Logan raised his eyebrows and took another drink. 
“Have you talked to her?” Logan knew exactly who he was talking about. But he shook his head. 
“Not since this morning.”
“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”
“What do you want, pal?”
Well, he wasn’t being Logan if he didn’t want to skip the pleasantries. 
“I think you and Y/n should give this thing a chance.”
“Excuse me?”
Scott smirked a little. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve not thought about it with her. How close you two are, how you both seem to know what the other does before they even do it. And call it what you want, I think this is the perfect excuse.”
“Perfect excuse?”
“To see if something can actually happen between you two.”
“And why should it?”
“Because you’re in love with her.”
For some reason, that felt like a punch to the gut to Logan. 
“Look, bub, I know-”
“Logan, the way you look at her isn’t the way a friend looks at another friend. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We all have. From day one, that girl has been something else for you, and even if you don’t know it, the rest of us do. You’re in love with her. You always have been.”
“No, I’m-”
“You can’t deny it, Logan.” Scott told him. “Eventually something is going to snap and it might be too late. So, you’ve done the whole relationship a little backwards. So what? You’d only get divorced anyway if it doesn’t work out. But you need to do something about your feelings, Logan.”
Logan had to laugh. “I think I’d know if I was in love with someone.”
Scott sighed. Did he seriously have to paint Logan a fucking picture. 
“You make her coffee every day. You bring her lunch and sit with her every day. She is the first person you go to when you finally want to ask someone for help. And I know for a fact she is the first person you tell anything to. She knows more about you than anyone else in this building does, and that is down to you and everything you have shared with her. Anytime anyone looks in her direction, you aren’t too far behind her.”
“I saw you, that day, when the Mayor and his brother turned up at the school.” Scott continued. “The way his brother was looking her up and down…Logan you were by her side in less than ten seconds and we all saw the look you gave him. That man left the Professor’s office trembling. He also never looked in y/n’s direction again.”
“What’s your point?”
“That you were jealous, Logan. And that, for as much as you can and probably will try and deny it. You love her.”
The conversation lulled for a moment. 
“All I’m saying is at least think about it. We’ve all seen you together. Maybe it’s time you finally noticed yourself.”
Logan didn’t see you until the next day when he caught you folding laundry in your room. 
“Want some help?”
You turned around and saw him. “Sure. You can start with that pile.”
Logan entered your room, a little more awkward than usual, and started folding clothes. 
“How are you…how are you feeling?”
You shrugged. “Like normal, I guess. What about you?”
“Yeah, fine.”
IT was a slight struggle after that but conversation flowed a little easier eventually. 
That was something Logan always loved when it came to being around you. He wasn’t the biggest one for talking to people but with you, it was easy. Probably helped by the fact you could somehow change topics at lightning speed. 
Conversations with you were never, ever boring. 
Even when they were probably meant to be. 
And it wasn’t long before your fear surrounding being married…faded. 
Around a week later, a leak had sprung on one side of the school which meant having to bunk rooms for a while. Of course, all the kids went with their friends. 
But it also meant you had to bunk with someone too. 
“You can bunk with me.” Logan told you. 
You nodded. “Finally sharing a room. Wow, we’re really moving generations in this relationship.”
“After you, wife.”
This became a common theme, until the weight of the words settled down on both of you once more. 
A divorce lawyer had picked up your case. 
It would take a couple of weeks to get all the papers sorted, but yourself and Logan would be divorced by the middle of the following month. 
Like nothing had ever happened. 
Except, it just so happened, that was when something did happen. 
Scott and Storms’s words had been playing on Logan’s mind and yours. Not helped by the fact it wasn’t the last time someone held that kind of conversation with either of you. 
You found yourself in a similar conversation with Scott, whilst Logan had a similar conversation with Jean. 
And then the Professor approached you both, without the other one knowing. 
Except he hadn’t been to sit down and talk to you about it. He just made small comments in passing that left you both questioning more and more about your true feelings. 
And then Logan found you in the library one night. 
“Here you are. You didn’t come to bed so…what are you doing?”
Standing close to the top of the book ladder, you were scanning through different books with a flashlight.
“The main light is too big and the fire’s light doesn’t reach this far back.”
Logan blinked. “That…still didn’t answer my question.”
“I’ve got a new semester of lessons set out. I wanted to get a head start on finding the books needed.”
Logan looked around. “You got a list?”
You looked at him. “Logan, it’s past midnight. Go to bed.”
“That’s not what I asked. Where’s your list? I know you’ve got one.”
Sighing, you reached into your back pocket and held it out. He walked over and plucked it from your fingers. 
“There’s twenty six books on this list.”
“And I currently have three. If you still want to help, any that you find, just place them on the table behind the sofa.”
And so he did. 
By two in the morning, you’d both found twenty three books in total. Just three more left. 
“Is this the right edition?”
“Let me see.”
Logan walked over to where you were still standing on the ladder and handed it up to you. You flipped through a couple of the first pages as you slowly climbed backwards down the stairs. 
“Yeah, this is the right one. The last two should be on a lower shelf.”
As you finally reached the last few steps, you felt your foot slip and your knees crashed against the bars. Except, instead of falling backwards, or rolling with the ladder itself, Logan’s hands steadied you. 
“You alright?”
You took a second to breathe. Having your life flash before your eyes for a couple of seconds really knocks the wind out of you. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m fine.”
You turned in Logan’s arms and was met with his broad and solid chest as his hands held you at your waist. 
“Good,” Logan laughed a little, too. 
The sound of your life had always been like music to his ears. 
A comfort, even when the moment hadn’t been all that comfortable beforehand. 
And for that moment, time seemed to still. Any silence that had been in the room was slowly becoming defending, until your hearing focused on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the quickening of your own heartbeat. 
The flashlight that you had held in your hands had rolled somewhere onto the floor when you slipped on the ladder. 
But you had never seen Logan so…clearly. 
You had known him for so long and had even spent nights and mornings in the same bed together. But for the first time, you were committing him to memory. Part of you felt like these moments would go, once the papers came through. That even if neither of you wanted it, something would inherently change between you both once the papers were signed and delivered. 
But something in that moment was changing too. 
Like how you were realising you never wanted to be away from him. That the best place on this earth was right where you were. In his arms, his eyes on you, and yours on him. 
You found yourself leaning in forward, almost as if, if you didn’t get closer to him, he might disappear. 
And he was doing the same. 
One of his hands came up to your face as he rubbed a couple of strands of your hair between his fingers before he slowly pushed it back and let his gaze wash over you. 
He was committing you to memory, too. 
His eyes locked on yours once more, just as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your hip. 
You fell closer to him. 
Or maybe he pulled you closer. 
Either way, you never wanted to be without his touch. 
What felt like an eternity later, you finally felt his lips against yours and yours against his. 
It started off slow. This was new territory for you both when it came to the other. It was slow, full of mixed feelings and…something else. 
Then it snapped. 
Logan pushed a little harder and you felt your legs hit the back of the book ladder just as his hand and arm snaked around and up your back, holding you flush against him as your own arms pulled him closer to you. 
Logan braced the hand that had been by your face, by the side of your head, holding onto the book ladder, keeping you both steady. 
And he felt your breath hitch as he stepped into you. 
Before you knew it, you were braced against one of the bars on the ladder as Logan’s lips went from yours, across your jaw and down the column of your neck. A small grunt escaped him as your own fingers scratched through the back of his hair and down the back of his neck. 
However, just as his lips returned to yours and his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt– his t-shirt, as your own started reaching for the hem of his…a clock went off. 
“W-w-w-w-w-wait. Wait. Stop.”
“Is everything okay?”
You swallowed. “Yes…no. I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Logan wanted to ask “Why? Why shouldn't we?”. But instead, lowered his head. He knew why. 
“You’re right…you’re right.”
Your own temple came to rest against his for a few moments, neither of you wishing to leave the moment just yet. 
“We should go…before someone comes in.”
“It’s two in the morning, who is going to come in?”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“Then don’t.”
You stayed quiet for a long time, feeling Logan’s fingers draw circles over your skin. Eventually, the only sound you heard was his heartbeat and his breath, slowly matching your own. 
But no matter how much of you told you to stay, you tried your best to fight it. 
You and Logan were friends. Friends who were about to get a divorce from a marriage neither of you could remember fully consenting to. 
“Goodnight, Logan.”
Reluctantly, you stepped out of his arms, his light grip on your hand not letting go until you were both too far apart to hold on any longer, and made your way through the school until you came across an empty room. 
It was the smaller quiet space that overlooked the back of the school. Perfect for the nights when too much noise was keeping you up at night. 
Except, it wasn’t noise keeping you awake. 
It was your own mind, relieving the one thing you thought you would never do with Logan. The one thing you wanted most to keep going. The one thing you would never forget. 
When Logan woke the next day, part of him thought it was all a dream. But even he couldn’t have dreamed up anything from the night before and have it still feel so real in the morning. 
Then he didn’t see you for three days. 
Save for one moment when he brought a box of your things from his room, to yours. You opened the door, wearing another one of his t-shirts. One that went missing months ago. One that he had seen on your at least a dozen times since. One that he felt he was truly seeing for the first time, on you. 
The exchange, coming from the both of you together, couldn’t have felt anything more than awkward. 
And then another moment hit. 
You didn’t close the door. 
He didn’t know what to say. 
All he knew was that he wished he was back with you, in the library. 
And you were wishing the same thing right back. 
“I should-”
“You should-”
A small, awkward laugh came from both of you before eventually you shut the door, wishing you had enough confidence to open it back up and call after him. 
Two days later, Logan hadn’t seen you at all. 
And a morning meeting, with Storm going to get you from your bed, led to Logan realising why he hadn’t seen you. 
“She’s not there?”
Logan turned immediately. “What?”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She’s not in her room or any other place she usually is this early in the morning.”
“Doesn’t she have classes to teach?” Scott asked. 
“She doesn’t teach Wednesday and Thursday.” Logan told him. 
And it wasn’t long before Logan heard his name being called behind him by Xavier as he marched his way out of the office and to every room he could think you would be. 
You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn’t been there for weeks. The books you had taken out – the ones Logan had helped you find – were piled neatly in your bedroom. On your desk, you had a small wicker basket filled with letters and postcards, all arranged in date order, the newest ones being at the front. 
The pictures you had on your windowsill displayed all the people you loved the most. And included a picture from when you had ambushed him on his birthday. He rarely, if ever, took a photo. 
But he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly, with you. 
“Where could she have gone?”
Logan looked around your room. You wouldn’t have just gotten up and left for good. You loved teaching your kids too much, despite whatever else had happened. 
Then Logan saw the framed pictures on the wall, just across from your bed. 
“I’ll check with Cyerbro. She couldn’t have gone far.”
“She could be half way across the world by now!”
Logan shook his head. “But she’s not.”
A lot of them were confused, but Xavier watched Logan for a moment. 
“Do you know where she is?”
“I have an idea.”
With that, Logan reached for the wall and pulled down one of the smaller frames and carried it out with him.
“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Storm called out to him. 
“You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“Logan, you look like you’re just about ready to punch a bull. I know, right now, even if you are the last person she wants to see, you are the first person she needs. But that also means I know what you’re going to do and, love you or not, Y/n wouldn’t want you to hurt someone or even yourself to find her.”
And Storm was right. 
And she was right to tag along. 
Because just five hours later, Logan had pulled up outside a local pharmacy. They had received a call on the way; they were heading in the right direction, but they needed to go into the town first. Any chance of finding where she was in the mountains lay where she had been all day. 
And it wasn’t long before Storm had to step in to stop Logan from almost killing the cashier. 
He had been dancing around the question, leading them all on different tangents of conversation about the town and the people in it before finally he got to his answer.
The cashier nodded. “I don’t know where she lives, but Connie might. She knows everything in the town.”
“Where is Connie?”
The cashier pointed out of the door. “In the bakery, across the street.”
“Thank you,” Logan told him, swiping the picture back up from the counter and walking outside. Storm stopped short behind Logan when she saw he wasn’t moving off the sidewalk. 
Then she saw. 
You had just left the building and climbed inside your beaten up, old Jeep Wrangler. You pulled out of your parking spot and drove off down the street. 
And Logan followed. 
However, halfway up the road, he started to recognise the place. He’d been here before, except he was going up the way he would come down and out of the cabin. 
So, he took a turn. 
He was at your cabin ten minutes before you were. Storm had stayed behind in the town to call the others and let them know what was going on. 
“You fixed her up well.”
You jumped at his voice and threw a can of pumpkin puree at his head. Though he managed to catch it before his head made a dent in the can. 
“Jesus, Logan.” Then you realised. “How did you find me?”
“You forget that I know you. The pictures on your wall. They’re a lot more recent.”
You didn’t know what else to say so you turned back to your front door and pushed it open, Logan hurrying after you. 
“Why did you leave?” He called out, placing the can on the side. 
“I didn’t leave.” You called back as you unpacked some of your groceries. 
“You disappeared into thin air but you weren’t abducted. I’d call that leaving.”
“I needed a break, Logan. I needed…time.”
“Time from what?”
“From everything. From you, from marriage, from the school, from the library. It’s like I woke up one morning and, quite literally, everything had changed. One day we were- we were teachers and friends…we were us, Logan. And then…we kissed and…I don’t know what we’re meant to do, Logan.” You dropped your head as you pressed your palms onto the kitchen counter.
“Maybe we’re meant to do nothing.” Logan walked towards you. “Maybe we keep things as they are.”
“What? Single and married?”
Logan shook his head, bringing his hand to pull yours to look at him. 
“Married and together.”
Your lips parted for a moment, your eyes scanning his face, waiting for the joke to have its punchline. 
“So, we did everything a little backwards?” Logan shrugged. “So what.”
“Logan…”
“I love you, y/n.” Logan told you, nothing but seriousness and truth in his eyes. “And I think you love me, too. But you’re scared. And so am I. Do you love me, y/n?”
You were trying your hardest to keep your emotions inside you, but something was failing. “Of course I do.”
“Then we start here, just you and me.”
“If something goes wrong, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Logan.”
Logan smirked. “Good job I can regenerate.”
You scoffed and hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
Logan nodded, a faint smile on his face. “I know. You’re not going to lose me, Y/n. You couldn’t ever.”
“Promise me.”
Logan nodded. “I promise. Can I kiss you now?”
Logan didn’t have time to finish his question before your lips met his in a searing kiss, your hands pulling him closer to you whilst his own arms wrapped around you. 
Maybe you had done the whole relationship thing backwards, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.
Not when you finally had each other for life. 
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