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azsazz · 16 hours ago

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Cold Shoulder

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: after sprinkles of luck and doubt i cant stop thinking of hockey!az being weird and distant and then comes in figureskater!eris to be readers skating partner and the jealousy that ensues ooooooooo

AKA Part 2 to Sprinkles of Luck and Doubt

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 2083

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown Shots & Spins Sprinkles of Luck and Doubt

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“Where’s your guard dog?” The boy you’ve been trying to ignore since practice started says. He skids to a halt at your side, his skates spraying shards of ice across the worn ice. It’s due for a Zamboni soon, and glancing at the bright red numbers ticking the time away, you have twenty more minutes of skating until you’re done for the day.

It works perfectly for your schedule because you haven’t been able to focus since Azriel left you with a somber look after sneaking into the women’s locker room before his weekend away with his hockey team.

You don’t know what had gone wrong. Everything seemed fine when he pulled you into his body and you could feel the press of his thick cock in his pants against your stomach. He’d been more than excited to see you, and you’ve never felt more important than in his arms right then. Because he’d snuck into the women’s locker room to say goodbye. He could have easily left you with a text, or nothing at all—you knew his schedule like the back of your hand by now—but he felt inclined enough to break the rules to see you one more time before he left.

You get the saying now, because if he really wanted to, he would.

What you can’t grasp is the sudden change in Azriel’s mood. He’d gone stiff against you like the flip of a switch, and it wasn’t the good kind of stiff that reflected in his jeans. It was the kind of stiffness that you clocked immediately, fed on. When his body locked up, yours did too. When he refused to meet your gaze as he said a soft farewell, you didn’t have the heart to watch his off-putting demeanor.

It's been days since you’ve seen him. An entire week, almost. You’ve seen Cassian and Rhysand in passing, but they haven’t offered anything about Azriel and you hadn’t asked.

You’re not going to be that girl, even if the prolonged no-contact with someone you thought you could fall for is driving you up the wall.

“Practice,” you bite at the boy staring down at you. You wince at your tone. You answered much too quickly and with much to emotion for anyone to believe you, and you see it in the way Eris’ amber eyes soften a touch.

You don’t want his pity. You don’t need it. All you want right now is to get off this damned ice—because of course it reminds you of Azriel, nearly everything does—and head back to your dorm to ice your throbbing knee.

You’ve known Eris since you transferred to Velaris University. He’s a challenge at the best of times and a menace at the worst, but he’s arguably your first friend outside of your dormmates, and even then, you’re not entirely sure they actually like you or if they just tolerate you because you all live together.

Maybe you need to start being a little friendlier.

“What happened?” Eris asks softly, and your throat grows tight with emotion. He’s the first person to ask, and for the first time since Azriel disappeared on you, you want to break down and let it all out. You want to spill every consuming thought you’ve had while you were overanalyzing and you want someone to feed into your delusion as much as you want someone to talk you off the ledge of crazy.

But you can’t do that, not in the middle of practice, because as soon as you open your mouth to spill, coach is shouting at you and Eris to run through your routine again.

You sigh in frustration, but it does nothing to ease the heaviness in your heart. After finally admitting that the injury you’re recovering from has been bothering you as of late, coach decided that working with a partner would help ease the stress on your knee while also keeping you working towards your goal.

You know you’ve had the option to work with a partner, but you’ve always been solo, and it’s difficult to allow yourself to put this much trust in someone else. The last time you put your trust in someone, he left you feeling like a wet towel abandoned on the shower stall floor.

Eris is well aware of your injury and how your recovery has been going, and he’s been more than happy to gently ease you into the routine. He’s been gentle with you during tricks, and you’re more thankful than you let on. As you get into position to practice one more time before you’re dismissed, you remind yourself to thank him properly by taking him to dinner or a movie or something he enjoys.

Eris counts you off and then you’re gliding across the ice together. His hand is a warm weight against your hip but it feels all wrong. It’s nothing like the hand you want there, the one that’s a brand against your skin.

You startle when Eris’ hand finds your other hip, preparing for your first trick. You wobble on your skate and he rightens you with a frown that you brush off with a head shake, taking a breath and focusing on what you do best.

Two, three, four, jump! Eris lifts you with ease, hauling you above his head. You engage your core and pose for a beat, two, and then he’s lowering you back to the ice with a gentleness that you haven’t experienced in pairs before.

This go-around, you’re mostly practicing lifts. Coach wants you and Eris to accomplish a triple twist lift, but you’re rusty working in pairs, and you need to work up to it. Plus, your knee screams in agony during your next trick, no matter how many times you’ve done a spiral.

Gods, you’re pushing it.

But to be the best, you have to.

You’re focused so intently on ignoring the pain flaring up your leg and the tricks you’ve yet to master to notice the figure across the arena. Hockey practice just let out, and a quick glance to the clock on the wall would have told you that if you’d been keeping an eye on it. Of course, you know the hockey schedule by heart. At first it was because you and Azriel would try to align your practices to get out on time so that you could find a dark place to touch each other, but now it’s because you wanted to escape any chance of seeing the broody hockey player you’ve decided you’re giving the cold shoulder to.

Azriel’s hazel eyes latch onto you and the hand he has wrapped around his hockey bag tightens until his knuckles turn white. He doesn’t know the guy whose hands are all over you, doesn’t like the way he grabs your hips to lift you, doesn’t like how close his face is to yours, how his eyes glitter with amusement when you curse under your breath. He doesn’t like the way your body looks molded to his when you jump or the way that you stare at each other at the end of your routine, both panting so hard that your chests nearly brush with every inhalation.

He definitely doesn’t like the ire flooding his bones like magma, nor the prickling sensations of jealousy that threaten to overtake his body, march him onto the ice, and beat the shit out of the guy that’s touching what’s his.

And he most certainly doesn’t like the way that you favor your uninjured leg as you make your way off of the ice.

Azriel can’t help himself, he’s a fool. A fool for leaving you. A fool for not messaging you that he needed time to figure his own shit out, that things with you were becoming too real. A fool for every doubting whatever you had in the first place.

He fucking missed you. All weekend, all week. He should’ve found you sooner, but with the loss against the Sparrows, coach has been making the team do double practice so they’re prepared for their next game tomorrow night, and with his classwork and personal life stacking up, he hadn’t prioritized you.

He’s realizing now that he should have.

Azriel doesn’t know what he’s doing until he’s halfway to where you’ve come off the ice and are listening to your coach. Eris stands too closely to your side as you nod, and it takes you longer than he wants to admit to notice him.

He watches your pretty eyes go wide, drink him in from head-to-toe—which he secretly preens at because you still want him, even after he’s acted like a jackass all week—and then narrow in a glare so harsh his steps falter.

Surely, he knows he fucked up, but he hadn’t gauged just how angry you’d be.

Very, apparently.

Azriel’s still trying to muster up what to say when coach dismisses you. You turn to Eris instead of moving towards Azriel, and the black-haired boy bristles at that fact. He can’t hear what you’re speaking about, but when Eris graces you with a charming smile and an agreement, Azriel knows he doesn’t like that one fucking bit.

You snatch your towel from where it’s hanging over the edge of the bench and wrap it around your neck, following Eris towards the locker rooms. You have to work to keep your face neutral, but your knee is killing you. All you want to do is go home, prop it up and ice it, maybe even devour a pint of ice cream or two, but upon seeing Azriel waiting for you in the walkway off the ice, you hastily invited Eris to grab dinner with you instead.

You want nothing to do with Azriel at the moment.

He’s still glaring at your friend when you try to pass by. Azriel grabs your arm but it’s gentle, and sends a zip of lightning up your spine.

“Hands off, hockey douche,” Eris defends, but Azriel doesn’t pay him a second glance, his intense eyes focused entirely on you.

“Can we talk?”

His voice is so soft, eyes pleading, that you want to cave immediately. Crawling right back into his arms sounds like bliss right now because you know Azriel well enough to know that he’s noticed how badly your knee is bothering you, and he’d be a great caretaker. But that means he’s also noticed how he left you, by the remorse in his eyes, and how upset you are with him.

“I can’t,” you respond, sticking to your guns no matter how painful it is. Azriel’s hand is warm on your arm, and his touch alone is already battering through your weakened defenses. You lift your chin and reprimand yourself all in the same motion. “I have plans.”

“Cancel them.”

“I don’t think so,” Eris huffs, hovering by your side. Azriel’s face hardens and you manage to hide your wince when he turns his glare on your partner.

“This conversation doesn’t involve you, firedick.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, and he hates that you’re using his full name. He hates that you sound so upset. “Apologize.”

He sets his jaw, staring down at you. You stare right back, arms crossed fully over your chest. There’s a bead of sweat brimming at your hairline that Azriel wants to brush away, and it’s a struggle not to haul you into his arms and drag you back to the hockey house with him to talk.

After a few terse seconds of silence, you scoff. He’s not going to apologize to you, and he presumably liked you, there’s no way in hell he’s going to apologize to Eris for calling him a crude name.

You manage to sidestep Azriel, though you’re sure you only get away with it because he lets you. He’s a persistent man and usually gets what he wants, but not today.

If he wants anything to do with you, he’s going to work for it.

“I’m sorry,” Azriel says when you’ve taken two steps away from him. You know it isn’t directed at Eris, but at you. Your steps falter and your lip wobbles with emotion. You wonder if Azriel knows what he’s sorry for, or if he’s just saying it to appease you.

You glance at him over your shoulder, cursing your wet eyes for giving you away.

You say thickly, “Yeah, me too,” and continue down the hall to the locker rooms.

Azriel watches you go.

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Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13 @sunny1616

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #hockey!bat boys #hockey!azriel #acotar hockey au #azriel au #azriel shadowsinger

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hiddenlongingsfanfic · 14 hours ago

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Pushing Your Luck (Lucky Boys 4)

Danny slowly uncurled from the little corner that he had started to make his own. He had never had a home that was completely his before and it still felt too good to be true. He yawned and stretched his hands above his head and leaned back and back and back; doing a lazy little loop de loop in the air.

He cocked his head to one side as he stretched his hearing out to the rest of the building.

Nothing sounded out of place.

No footsteps or voices.

Just the low scratching of some industrious little rodent that was making its own nest in the walls a floor below him.

He raked a hand through his wild white hair and contemplated what he was going to do with his morning. He had managed to gather a small collection of plastic bottles that he had cleaned out and then filled in a public bathroom. The moldy comforter made a comfortable little nest that he could curl up in without having to worry about getting too warm.

The little basket next to the window…had not been there last night.

Still yawning, Danny floated over to the woven basket that someone had placed inside without disturbing him.

When he caught sight of the handwritten note that had been placed on top of his newest present he let out a little chirrup of glee. More presents from Hood. Once he managed to get himself a little bit more established Danny was going to have to figure out where the other man lived so that he could return the favor.

Sneaky presents were the best kind after all.

It meant that the other man had been thinking of him without wanting to bother him. The most recent note was just as sweet as the first had been.

THOUGHT YOU MIGHT NEED THESE. RH

The note was attached to the top of a little pad of paper and included a ballpoint pen. Danny carefully sifted through the basket with something approaching awe.

Nobody had ever given him such thoughtful gifts before.

His parents had been prone to forgetting his birthday and Christmas.

Jazz had always remembered but cakes and the like were completely out of the question in their house when the eggs were prone to reanimation. So it had usually been some sort of pre-packaged cupcake or at best a new pair of sneakers to replace the ones that had been accidentally dipped in acid.

Danny purred quietly when he pulled out a fuzzy throw blanket in a deep green color that wouldn’t show stains.

A couple of different bottles of cleaner.

One for fabrics and one for tile or linoleum.

Some paper towels for easy cleanup and disposal.

Then finally with shaking fingers he pulled out an oversized hoodie that would be able to swing down to at least his knees; this one in a sturdy black woven material that would drape without clinging to him.

Danny buried his face in the thick material with a stifled gasp as he hugged it to his chest and finally let himself actually think about his sister.

She had always done what she thought was best for him.

No matter the cost.

One of the last sounds he had heard before falling through the rift in the sky was the sound of explosive ammunition being set off with extreme prejudice.

Ancients, he even thought that he might have seen Vlad of all people coming in with his friends trying to get his parents to see reason. It had sounded like the world was exploding around him and Jazz had only been given an instant to hug her little brother tightly to her chest, her lips brushing his forehead before she pushed him back and managed to shove some sort of small tech directly into an opening in his chest.

A gash that the scientists had left on him after they’re latest session and left a couple of his ribs exposed to the open air.

She had screamed a phrase in a language that seemed to reorient Danny’s world as he fell up through the sky and then started falling straight down into an entirely new world.

He could barely see anything through the lights and explosive noises that had erupted around him but it hadn't looked survivable. He could see Jazz’s eyes red-rimmed and blackened with soot and bruises for a long moment before the portal had snapped shut. Gone so completely that he couldn’t even see a scar in the sky above him as he began to fall.

He had felt the finality of whatever Jazz had done.

There wasn’t going to be a way for him to go back home, even if he had wanted to.

He had the last piece of his world and family hidden behind his heart.

Still holding the new hoodie tightly in one arm Danny pulled it free gently; desperately trying not to damage whatever Jazz’s last gift could possibly be. He looked down at the little cube in the palm of his hand and he could see that Jazz, Sam, and Tucker had all written their initials on it. Danny ducked his head down a little bit so that he could look at the tech a little closer. It looked to just plug in to a normal USB. Jazz and his friends would have had months to plan their insane rescue mission. Hopefully wherever he had landed they had similar technology.

Although if he glanced at the little box out of the corner of his eyes he could see the low sheen of some sort of magic that they had coated it in. Knowing Tucker it was more than likely going to force itself to work with any sort of operating system he was able to find.

Danny floated over to the corner that he had made his little nest in.

It was easier to pull ectoplasm from the floor when he only had a few layers of fabric separating him from it so he didn’t have to worry about needing to find or haul a bed frame into the little studio.

The moldy comforter was carefully folded; as neatly as he was able to manage and placed to one side.

He scrunched the rich green fabric of his new blanket into a nest that he would be able to curl up in comfortably as long as he continued to not have bones.

The cleaning supplies were left in the basket for the moment.

He still wanted to do a little more exploring before the sun fully rose and cleaning could wait until after he’d rested some more.

The motley little collection of plastic bottles was tucked in next to the cleaners.

It wasn’t a lot but Danny tweaked the bottles and looked over his few belongings with something like pride.

With a great deal of reluctance Danny twitched back into his human form only staying in it long enough to slip the hoodie over his bare torso before reverting back to his ghostly body as quickly he could manage. Danny let his fingers smooth down over his hazmat suit and even though he normally couldn’t even feel whatever clothing his alternate was wearing he could feel a hint of extra warmth on his body from the extra layer.

He floated back towards his window and let himself go invisible and intangible as he slipped through the rotten wooden boards that half covered the broken glass. The early morning sun was still hiding behind the tall buildings and left the streets of his new home murky and fog covered.

The chill of the mist seemed to penetrate right to his core and Danny shivered with delight.

He let the droplets of moisture phase right through him and he could feel them wicking away the muck and blood of his capture and subsequent escape. The miasma of smog and water felt like a blessing after the close confines of the laboratory and Danny let himself spin and swirl through it.

It was early enough that he could just make out a couple of windows with their lights on.

3rd shifters coming home for the day or maybe a few of especially early birds that were preparing for the long day ahead of them. The sidewalks themselves were bare of any commuters and even the women who had been patrolling the area for customers had finally headed back to their homes.

The city wasn’t completely quiet though.

Danny could hear what sounded like pigeons cooing and beginning to stir from their nests and someone had a radio playing a softly sung ballad in Spanish.

The more Danny scouted around the more it felt like any sort of normal morning in a big city.

Well, what he had always imagined a big city would sound like.

Whatever alternate earth he had ended up landing on seemed to be on a similar timeline at least.

There weren’t a lot of cars lining the streets but the ones that were there looked to be worn from long winters. The rocker panels rusted and were eaten away by the spray of slush from salt covered pavement.

The lines of the cars were different though, a little longer and sleeker than the vehicles he was accustomed to.

Still though; they were undeniably gas powered cars just like those he had grown up with.

As he got closer to the edges of the urban sprawl Danny started to hear the low susurration of swiftly running water.

He trailed the edges of the river, ducking under huge cranes and flying over large shipping containers.

The closer he got to the waters edge the more the smell of pollution and rotten fish began to overwhelm him.

The water looked near pitch black with an oily rainbow sheen coating the top of it.

Sam would have been having absolute fits about this place if she was here Danny thought wistfully.

He hadn’t seen a single designated green space at all in his exploration and the water smelled absolutely toxic even to him.

As he darted around his new haunt Danny was starting to get a vivid picture of exactly where he had ended up.

The entire place seemed to be the worst sort of urban sprawl, a broken down neighborhood trapped in the center of a river that was surrounded by an even larger city. With the cracked concrete, the empty warehouses and the prevalence of a less than legal nightlife as its main source of income the whole place had the feeling of a place that had been abandoned due to neglect and fear.

The unwanted bastard child of an aging royalty.

It took him a couple of hours but Danny managed to circle the entire island, noting decrepit bridges as the only escape.

Winding his way through the blocks of housing Danny did start to notice some bright spots in the otherwise dingy atmosphere.

A small diner whose warm lights shone out onto the pocked sidewalks. A woman, he presumed a waitress, between her clean white apron and the neat bun that her graying hair had been pulled back into, was wiping down the tables.

A few blocks down, now that the sun was finally starting to peek over the rooftops he could see a line forming for what looked like a local soup kitchen.

All of the tables and floors were worn but scrupulously clean.

A couple of brave souls were already huddled over their pancakes or oatmeal with one of the employees waving a full coffee pot at them playfully.

Peering in through the window Danny smiled softly at the friendly group. Maybe once he managed to clean up his mortal body a little bit Danny would be welcomed here too and he could eat some freshly cooked food for the first time in longer than he wanted to think about.

When another early riser slipped obliviously through his body Danny startled and zipped up onto a nearby roof.

He hadn’t even felt the other man come up behind him.

He had used to be better at this, more aware of his surroundings.

In Amity Park he had been able to feel the trails that the local human population had made through the ectoplasm that had filled the air.

He didn’t always know who it was, but Danny had always been able to determine without so much as a glance, whether there were any civilians in his trajectory.

There was just something about this place that left him feeling constantly on his back foot.

Tail?

Whatever.

Amity Park may have been coated in ectoplasm but he had still been able to feel the people moving through it.

Here it was like all of the people had been a part of this liminal space for so long that they were a part of the atmosphere, generations of people living and dying and being buried in it.

It was more akin to the Ghost Zone than the mortal plane that he was used to.

Danny slunk back towards his apartment as the streets started to fill up with commuters.

T his time he was careful to float well above the scattering of people.

It had always felt weird as hell whenever any sort of living thing passed straight through him and Danny had no interest in feeling that particular sensation again any time soon.

When he finally passed back through his window Danny sighed deeply as he let himself slip back into an at least semi-tangible form.

Alighting on the fuzzy softness of his new blanket Danny settled in for a late morning nap.

Once he got a little bit more rest he could start to clean up the worst of the water damage and mold.

The gift basket and the clippers had definitely come from Hood so he was going to work under the assumption that he was welcome in the other man’s haunt.

At least for now.

Snuggling into the deep folds of the fabric Danny could already see the ectoplasm start to seep back out of the floor as his eyes started to slip closed.

He hummed deeply at the unexpected comfort that he had found and let himself slip slowly back to sleep.

When Dick saw Jason the next afternoon he didn’t like the way that his younger brother's eyes were lined with dark bruising from a lack of sleep.

“Problem?”

Jason shook his head even as he took a deep draw from the energy drink he was clutching.

“3 out of my 4…employees.”

Lieutenants, Dick’s brain replaced the slowly enunciated word.

“Came to the meeting we had scheduled.”

“And the fourth?”

“No call. No show. I might have to get HR involved if this continues or maybe a welfare check if they don’t get in contact with me.”

Dick nodded thoughtfully.

HR would probably be the mousy little man that had been working on Jason’s books both legal and not for the past few years. T he man seemed to blend into furniture while also being comparable to Red Robin with his skill with computers. The welfare check was probably going to be an oversized boot to whichever door the missing lieutenant was known to hide behind.

Dick had never actually been to the warehouse that Jason had converted into an open plan office space for the people who worked under him but he had seen the blueprints and been impressed.

Jason had even begrudgingly brought some of his paperwork to Bruce when he had been in the process of legitimizing his business.

A quick glance through the documents had shown that Jason had been deadly serious about taking care of the people that worked for him. W-2’s, health insurance, the whole nine yards.

You could say a lot of things about Jason but he had never failed to commit.

As Red Hood he controlled the trafficking of drugs into the Narrows, made sure that the area children were kept well clear of it, cracked down on violent crime both day and night and ran a legitimate charity as Jason Todd-Wayne.

The man needed to have employees that he could trust.

If only to make sure that he didn’t run himself completely ragged.

No matter what he or Tim might think, sleep was actually a required activity that both of them needed to partake in on a more regular basis.

Dick clapped his hand on Jason’s shoulder in commiseration.

“Hopefully nothing too exciting comes from that. Maybe he just forgot.”

Jason nodded in feigned agreement as the pair turned to start walking towards the Bed, Bath, and Beyond that they had agreed to meet at.

Like hell had the man forgotten a meeting but Jason pushed that out of his mind for the moment.

H e was determined to make the strange man more comfortable as soon as possible.

Even if he was living in a murder house.

Dick had needed to physically remove over a dozen didn’t blankets from Jason’s grasp while they had wandered through the too bright lights aisles of Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

Every time he had seen another one Jason had fussed and compared the textures between the fluffy dark green throw and the next blanket that had landed in his line of sight.

" You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

“You really think he’ll like this blanket?”

“I think he’ll like any of these very nice blankets but if you get him more than one or two he’s going to be overwhelmed by choice.”

Jason’s eyes flicked over the remaining options in front of him.

He snagged another blanket that was a dark gray that wouldn’t show dirt too easily.

“Two then. One for now and one for when I switch out the green to wash it. So he doesn’t think I took it away.”

Since he was laser focused on the texture in front of him Jason couldn’t have seen Dick tilt his head slightly back, his eyes squeezed shut for just a moment while he silently asked for patience.

“Sounds good.”

“Don’t patronize me, Dick. ”

Dick bit back a smile while he watched his brother, hulking and bulky with muscle, slowly pet against the grain of a throw blanket covered in mushrooms.

“I’m not. From what we’ve been able to piece together about this guy he deserves every bit of our consideration. But buying the wrong...” Dick flicked his hands up to create quotation marks in the air “blanket is not going to be the reason this guy tips over the edge.”

Rubbing his thumb and forefingers together this time on a blue and white check fabric Jason continued to avoid eye contact.

“I scared him. I’m always talking about giving people a chance. Making sure that they’re not judged for their pasts. But I didn’t even give him a second to try and explain himself, just treated him like a threat from the get go.”

"Yeah.” Dick’s voice was soft. “Just because we’re all trying to move past our own personal histories doesn’t mean that we weren’t shaped by them. He scared you too.”

“He didn’t mean to though.”

“The hell he didn’t. We’ve all seen that recording. The only reason that man didn’t suplex you into the ground was because of that muzzle.”

Dick’s eyes flicked around them, triple-checking that nobody was within earshot of their conversation.

“He used those electrical snips you left him. He’s staying in that shitty little efficiency in your territory. Trust goes both ways and it seems to me that you're both working on it.”

“What other fucking choice does he have?”

Jason growled in frustration and swiped his hands through his hair leaving it curling wildly and swept up off of his face.

“Whoever he is, that man can fly, turn invisible and slip through solid objects. He’s got a whole lot of options even if he doesn’t want to be a hero or a rogue.”

Dick clapped his hand up on the taller man's shoulder and started to drag him out of the aisle that they had been occupying.

“Now, let’s go look at the cleaning products. I’m thinking we go for unscented and dye free. Let’s try to not induce any unexpected allergic reactions in your guest.”

The employees of the thrift store had given him a wide berth but Jason was sure that they had still heard him as he muttered murderously.

He picked through the selection of cheap baskets that had all probably come from some sort of department store.

“...cheap. Made in China. Cheap and made in China. Whatever happened to craftsmanship I ask you…”

Jason would have had to be a lot more oblivious than he had ever been to not notice the mechanical sound of a phone snapping a picture of him.

The Narrows had accepted Jason Todd’s return from the dead with open arms but Gotham as a whole had been less than impressed.

He was 100% sure that picture was going to be sold to the local paper with some sort of ridiculous headline.

Riches to Rags: Gothams (Least?) Favorite Son Forced to Shop Second Hand.

As though choosing to shop at a local thrift store was something to be ashamed of.

He had his own fucking money.

Hell he could steal one of Bruce’s credit cards and the man wouldn’t say a single word.

It was the principle of the thing.

He could have purchased blankets made from the furry asses of rabbits mixed with clouds.

Jason may have not had the best start in life, even compared to some of his brothers, but he remembered that sickening feeling of being given things that he felt he hadn’t earned.

Money was basically Bruce’s love language.

The man could be an emotional brick wall.

He hadn't been able to verbalize his feelings in a supportive or even normal way. It had taken a lot of fighting and hard work on both their parts, but Jason knew deep in his bones that Bruce loved him.

Shockingly, the man who dressed up as a giant bat to fight crime didn’t have the most healthy of coping mechanisms.

When Jason had first come to live with Bruce he had felt those debts piling up like boulders in his chest.

He didn’t want to do the same thing to his stranger.

Jason had thought about purchasing a phone for the man but that had also felt like a step too far.

The pen and notepad had felt like a good compromise.

The guy already knew that Jason was sneaking into the apartment he had selected and hadn’t seemed too upset or paranoid of the clippers that he had left.

If Jason had been raised by absolutely any other family he would have been wringing his hands while he watched the young man gently sort through the gift basket that he had finally selected.

To be fair if he had been raised by absolutely any other family he wouldn’t have been spying on a maybe alien on a rooftop across the street with a pair of Batnoculars. (Jason and Bruce blamed that particular nomenclature on a pre-teen Dick).

He fumbled them hard though when the white-haired stranger disappeared in a flash of light and he saw the bare skin of what looked like a human man's back, black hair brushed his shoulders and scars criss-crossed his back. The skin quickly disappeared underneath the oversized hoodie that Jason had snagged from the same thrift store that he had purchased the basket from. '

Another flash of light and the man was back to white hair and the hazmat suit before he disappeared into absolutely thin air.

Jason slipped away as quickly as he could manage.

It was one thing for the man to know that Jason was leaving him creepy little presents.

If he got caught staring through a pair of over-powered binoculars Jason wouldn’t be surprised if the man drop kicked him across the length of the city.

No need to push his luck at this point.

#archive of our own #fandom #fanfic #danny phantom #danny fenton #jason todd #batman #batfamily #dick grayson #nightwing #fluff

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chimivx · 2 days ago

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home;run -> fem!reader x mlb!mingyu, mlb!vernon, mlb!dk

College didn't work out, so you're stuck with the next best thing. Living with your superstar brother, traveling with his championship winning team, haunted by your past and heavily influenced by your present.

wc; {part five} 9.3k idk how don't ask me warnings; 18+, sexual content, alcohol consumption/abuse, bad influences around her, manipulation, her name gets taken advantage of in public media, if i missed anything please let me know!! notes; peese n lurv. <3

“I can’t deal with you straight people,” Ryujin muttered between bites of her lunch.

Glaring down at your phone screen, you grit your teeth. “Excuse me?”

She was focused elsewhere, at her desk in the room you used to share. Flipping the page in a textbook, she shoveled chips into her mouth and spared you a glance. “My bad,” she laughed. “You people who like dicks.” She put her eyes back on her pages and you put yours on the bathroom mirror. In your own room for the first time in two weeks, you were doing your makeup, preparing yourself to go to the field. There was an actual game today, the boys were playing the Bulls, the team they lost the World Series to last season. “You and Aurora both,” Ryujin shook her head. “Stop being stupid.”

With the flick of your mascara wand you scoffed. “What happened with Aurora?”

“She thought Yunho got her pregnant,” Ryujin roared, leaning toward her phone at the same time as you, your wide eyes making her laugh. “I’m serious! And that’ll be you if you don’t stop doing what you’re doing.”

Releasing a breath you glued your eyes back on the mirror. Sitting on the cold counter with your makeup a mess all around you, you swapped mascara for brow gel and fixed them up. “I was drunk the first time, I didn’t know what I was agreeing to,” you mumbled. “And, now, it’s like he’s trying to make it happen.”

Ryujin curled her lip. “Gross,” she whispered. “You’ve only been together like, what, two weeks, right?”

“Yeah, but,” you started, voice trailing off as you finished your brows. Snapping the tube shut, you twisted it vigorously, looking down at her. “If you count the month before this one, and then the few months three years ago, and then the few months a few years before that…”

“It doesn’t count,” she said, scanning her book, or trying to. “Your relationship wasn’t official, you’ve been together two weeks and the man is trying to purposely impregnate you. Why?” When she lifted her eyes, you pouted. “Isla,” she said, twisting in her chair to face her camera.

Voice quiet, you shrugged. “I told him.”

“About?”

“Vernon,” you whispered, looking down at your hands in your lap fiddling with the tube of clear brow gel. “He asked me that night, when I first called you. I told you what happened at dinner and after, right?” She nodded, gaze laser focused. “He asked me one more time, when I wasn’t drinking, and I was honest with him, I told him I thought I loved him.”

“Thought,” she sneered. “Oh god, Isla, what the fuck am I going to do with you?”

Tossing your hands out to the side the tube of gel went flying across the bathroom tile. “What was I supposed to say to him? That I still do? That having to watch Vernon play everyday makes it worse, makes it harder to ignore?”

Ryujin blinked. “Yes!”

“How!”

She pushed her bangs from her forehead and picked up her phone, sitting backward in her chair. “You be honest with him. It’s not fair for you to have feelings for someone else while you’re dating him, it doesn’t matter who he is. I guarantee you he’ll have another girlfriend in a few weeks if you break things off with him.”

“Ouch,” you mumbled, and she shot you a look. “I’m just saying!” Twirling on the counter you jumped off of it, taking yourself into your room to change. “It’s still Mingyu, Rio. He was the first boy to ever treat me like I wasn’t someone’s little sister.” Propping the phone up against the television, you dropped to your knees to throw open one of your suitcases.

“What if that’s why he wants you though?” Ryujin questioned, the words sending a chill over your skin.

“Don’t even say that,” you said, pulling out different tanks and crop tops from the piles in your luggage. “That would suck ass.”

“Just makes me think,” she continued, “Like, he’s always chasing you when you’re around, right? What did he do when you weren’t?” He serial dated other girls and broke things off with them before things went too far, a fact you both knew. “Exactly.”

“But, he’s in it when I’m here,” you said, attempting any counteraction to her words that didn’t make you feel fantastic. Standing up you stripped out of your sleep clothes and situated your outfit for the day. Ryujin disappeared from the screen until you were finished. “Like, really in it.”

“Yeah, and he’s still in you right now,” she said.

“Stop!” you whined, buttoning your baggy jeans.

“Isla,” Ryujin spoke with caution, appearing on the screen as you snatched the phone up. “You want Vernon. You always have. Before you even knew it, you wanted him.”

“He doesn’t want me,” you said quietly, a frown pulling at your glossed lips.

“Because he’s a good guy,” she said. “He’s not going to put himself between you and Mingyu, he’s gonna let you do what you want to do, and not for nothing, you hurt him pretty bad.”

“I know, you don’t have to keep saying it,” you whispered.

Ryujin took a deep breath, pressing her lips together. “I think whatever you did to him before he left is the reason he got called up.”

As much as you wanted to laugh, the thought of you and Vernon in the Nasara locker room together shoved a knife into your gut. “He did it himself,” you said. “They were planning it the whole time, DK told me.”

She nodded, a tiny smile on her lips. “Sure.”

“He hasn’t tried to talk to me since that night,” you said, slipping into your shoes.

“Have you tried to talk to him since that night?” she asked.

The look you gave her made her laugh. “I can only… sit and watch him play. He won’t talk to me if I try, he basically told me to leave him alone anyways. Besides… if I try, it’s too scary.” Just the thought of walking up to him, even to say hi, it filled you with nerves. “So, I sit in the stands like I’m in high school and watch him play baseball while my boyfriend thinks I’m watching him.”

“I’m gonna need you to repeat that one to yourself again and again until it clicks, Jagi,” she said. Sitting forward, she messed with things on her desk and put the phone down, trying to get back into her work. “Try to enjoy the game, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, starting for the door.

“And, maybe,” she started, grabbing the phone one last time, “Maybe don’t go out and drink tonight? Spend time with your brother? Don’t let Mingyu take you anywhere.”

“Okay,” you whispered, stepping out into the hall after slinging your bag onto your elbow. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye,” she smiled. Then, right as you were both about to hang up, she shouted, “Condoms! Use them!” And you both hit the red button in fits of giggles.

People packed the field in thousands. For the first game of the spring training season, the Lions were against the very team who knocked them out of the playoffs, the two teams coming together for the first time since. Fueling your variety of nerves, the rivals against one another, seeing Vernon in the flesh, dealing with Mingyu, all those aside, the very thing eating you alive is the fact that Vernon is the only new player on the team. Brand new to the Lions, the big leagues, the MLB, a lot of pressure sat on this game, on him, even if all the eyes will be on the guys that lost it all.

Along the ride to the stadium you swiped in and out of your messages thread with him. The ‘v<3’ taunted you. Through the screen, messages from months ago, they kept you connected, the force or something, whatever it was they talked about in those Star Wars movies he liked to watch. He was anxious. He usually is before a game. No doubt this one would be worse than all others that have come before it.

Thumbs locked over the keyboard, the grey of his message sent in December staring at you, you sucked in a quick breath and held it as you typed. You typed fast, you wanted to close your eyes. Clenching your jaw you gulped and tapped the arrow, sending the message to him, letting the ‘remember to breathe’ get lost in the back of your worries as you stepped onto the concourse of the stadium buzzing with life. Different versions of Lions jerseys filled the space, raiding concessions, gathering water, buying more merchandise, especially the special edition spring training t-shirts.

On your way through the crowds, thankfully with little people spotting you, at least a hundred Lee Dokyeom jerseys caught your eye, the big red number 38 below his name making you smile. It’d been his number since he started the sport, that same number belonged to your dad. DK swore he’d hold onto it forever, he was lucky when the Lions let him have it after the trade, 38 belonged to one of their veteran players who still came back regularly to visit the team. Your brother has met him before, the tension over the number being taken dissipated within seconds of them shaking hands, the man with greying hair letting the world know he was honored to have such a phenomenal, humble player take over his legacy.

Sincere, kind words your father wouldn’t even spout about his own son.

You wanted to hug every single person in the stadium wearing it.

Where there were red, exciting Lions jerseys, there were grey and blue striped Bulls jerseys, the colors themselves drab and dreadful. Ugliest blue in the league. Unfortunate that both teams were legends in the league, the turnout was a solid fifty fifty. To make matters worse, Bulls fans were assholes, and not in the cool way. Disrespectful, foul-mouthed, and trashy.

The man with the sunglasses and beer belly poking out of his Mark Lee jersey shouting, “Dirty drunk!,” as you passed by him and his family, who you assumed was his wife and two daughters, he proved your point. Trained to keep outside comments out, you did what you did best, held up a middle finger without turning around or giving him the time of day. He turned little heads, and the ones he did were of Lions fans who caught wind of you and were quick to come to your defense. His senseless grumbles of, “The team slut,” and, “Gold digger,” were lost on you.

You hoped.

Rounding more lines and exciting chatter, a young girl with big blue eyes grabbed you by the wrist, stopping your brisk walk toward the first base line. She had to have been about twelve or thirteen, the top of her head came up to your shoulder, her frizzy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Smiling, flashing her pink braces, she took a shaky breath.

“It is you,” she breathed, glancing to her left like she was looking for someone. “Moon Isla, right?” Her smile grew wider when you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said. Taking her in, a whopping four feet and eight inches tall, you smiled with her.

“I knew it,” she nearly whispered, whipping her head side to side. “Mom?” she called out, waving frantically to a woman in a Lions jersey and jean shorts. The woman, just as tall as you, hurried to her side, glancing between you and her daughter. “It is her, I told you.”

“Oh my,” the woman sighed, giving you a once over. For a moment your stomach went sour, but then she opened her mouth. “She adores you,” she said, wrapping an arm around her daughter's shoulder. “DK is her favorite player. He was her dad’s favorite, he’s deployed right now,” the two shared a look, “We plan to come to as many games as we can, for him.”

“That’s amazing,” you said, folding your hands over your front. “What are your names?”

“Diana,” the girl was quick to call out, clasping her hands together with a bounce of her knees.

Chuckling, the woman extended a hand. “Lucia,” she said, shaking your hand gently. “She really does adore you, she’s always showing me what you wear when you post, she tries to make whatever coffee you share, the makeup you use…”

“Mom,” Diana said from behind her teeth, her eyes flickering at you.

Lucia tipped her head backward with a click of her tongue. “You inspire her. You and your brother, you’re both positive influences, I hope you know that.” Now your stomach flipped. It came out of her so easily, the lie, the words she seemed to believe. “Would you mind if she took a photo with you?”

Swallowing hard, you shook your head and forced a smile on your face. “Not at all, sure, let’s do it,” you half laughed, taking an arm around Diana’s back, the girl trying to stretch hers around your shoulder.

You inspire her.

Positive influence.

Stuck on the things she said, Lucia, the mom of this young girl, Diana, only thirteen years old confirmed by the Instagram bio on her profile that popped up when she typed in her username for you. Sharing more with her, or rather, letting her talk to you, about her life, about school, about her friend drama, you did your best to give her advice you’ve heard from Ryujin and tapped the Follow button, positively making this little girl's day.

This thirteen year old who followed you, who was influenced by you and what you posted. Everything you’ve posted since you were her age flashed through your mind like a nightmare of a slideshow you were forced to watch, one you couldn’t stop. The amount of drunk stories you’ve posted, the language you used online, some of the outfits you’ve chosen to wear since that very young age because who cared, certainly not your mother or your father. Back at Nasara, the numerous times you posted videos of you and Ryujin dancing at the ATZ house before you swallowed each other's tongues on Instagram live. Many posts on your feed weren’t the greatest either. Grouped together with selfies and photo dumps were many questionable photos.

This girl had seen most of it, if not all of it.

“Keep being you,” Lucia said to you, laying a hand on your shoulder after her daughter squealed at her phone and tapped away. “Thank you.”

“Course.” Your voice was trapped in your throat. “Thank you. Enjoy the game.” With another smile she took her daughter in her arms and started to usher her away, the girl's nose lost in her phone. “Wait, Lucia,” you called out just as she turned around. Rushing to her side, Diana looking up at you with stars in her eyes, you asked, “Where are you sitting?”

“Oh, we’re up in the four hundreds,” she said. “All of these games are like sold out, it happened so fast.”

Glancing from Diana to Lucia, you said, “Go to section one-oh-eight.” Lucia’s brows furrowed, Diana's eyes shot open wide. “I’m gonna make a phone call, go there, tell them your names and that DK only eats yellow starburst before every game. They’ll put you in the first row.”

“Oh my god,” Lucia gasped, throwing her arms around your back.

“He does?” Diana’s face screwed up as she watched you two.

“Thank you, thank you,” Lucia whispered, her hug easing a few cracks within you from somewhere you ignored. “It’s been so hard, I fought to get these tickets, oh my god, thank you, Isla.”

When she pulled away she placed a hand to your cheek, then the two were off and you pulled out your phone to do as you promised. Giving a call to one of your brother's security members, the one who monitored from the stands behind home plate, you let him know of Lucia and Diana’s arrival, leaving the rest up to him. The two would have a perfect view of DK on the mound from those seats.

Before slipping your phone back into your pocket you glanced at your messages.

Unread.

Maybe even unopened.

Possibly deleted.

At least you weren’t blocked.

Down on the field the people were equally as lively as the crowds filling the stands. News cameras, photographers, reporters, tons of familiar yet never before seen people rushing about the green grass and the dirt trying to get a moment with any of the players. Music played throughout the stadium, remixes of pop songs old and new keeping the good vibes in check.

Weaving through men in suits and women in high heels, hoping to avoid any and all interaction with every single one of them, you finally reached the dugout and ducked into it, flying down the stairs.

“Moonie,” Woozi sang. Adjusting the buttons on his jersey, he held up a hand for you to slap.

“Hey,” you breathed, glancing around, finding his girlfriend with Joshua and Seungkwan. The three were talking, looking out onto the field at the massive amounts of people waiting for them. “Oh, good, thought I’d be the only girlfriend here.”

Woozi raised a brow, beginning to strap on his gear. “Half of our starting line is up on the other side of the field, with their wives,” he propped a leg up on the bench to fasten the gear around his shins. “Your boyfriend included.”

“Great,” you said, crossing your arms. Poking out your bottom lip you bobbed your head and looked out onto the field.

Woozi laughed within a breath, switching his legs around. “You not gonna go find him?”

“Nah,” you said way too fast.

When he had both feet on the ground he reached for an arm guard and faced you entirely. “Why not?”

“Because,” you shrugged. Your brother's laugh rang from the opposite end of the dugout, your ears perking up at the sound of the contagious song. “I’m gonna go find DK,” you mumbled.

“Moonie,” Woozi stopped you before you wandered too far. “Everything okay?”

A vague question that deserved a vague answer. Having known Woozi for years, one of your brother's closest friends, anything said to him would go straight back to DK, even if you asked him not to say anything. Jihoon was Big Brother 2.0 in a sense, and though you were grateful for the dual lookout over you, he was DK’s secret agent.

“I’m fine,” you said, apparently unconvincingly with how his brows shifted. “I promise.”

Strapping the rest of his gear on, he walked in front of you, a tight smile on his lips. “I’ve known you since you were sixteen,” he said with a nod of his head, “You can’t lie.” Folding your arms over your chest, you clenched your jaw and took a breath. “Least not to me, you should know that,” he laughed. Tilting his head, the wispy strands of his black hair dancing over his forehead, he pursed his lips before he asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you whispered, shaking your head once. Tightening your fingers on your biceps he didn’t let it go unnoticed. “I’m fine, it’s all fine.”

Giving you a once over, releasing a sigh, he nodded his acceptance. “Okay. You know if you need anything, I”m here. You don’t just have Seokmin to rely on, okay?”

You answered him with a quick nod and the smallest smile, leaving him to finish preparing for the game before he joined his curvy girlfriend and his friends admiring the field. Taking yourself through the dugout, arms still tight over your chest, you breeze past the bench a level higher and closer to the field where several players sat in their jerseys, so uniform, so clean. Heads of wavy hair, mostly short now that the season was just starting, sat in a line, kicked back on the finished wood with their hats in their laps. By September their hair would be flowing, unmanageable curls, the baseball flow.

At the end of the bench, sat up straight, his legs stretched out in front of him, was your favorite head of curls. Loose brown waves that’d grow tighter as the months passed now that he promised off his haircut. Behind him, down on your level, stood your brother grinning a mile wide as he spoke with a man in all black. To talk to your brother meant you’d have to place yourself directly behind Vernon and the soft smile he wore while he listened to his teammates talk.

“Isla!”

Tearing your eyes away from the boy a foot or so above where you walked, you shot a wide eyed look at your brother. So much for trying to go into this incognito. Glancing up at Vernon, he didn’t look at you, but his smile vanished.

“Hey, Deeks,” you spoke quietly, trying to keep your conversation between you and your brother.

“I didn’t think you’d come down here,” he said, waving goodbye to the man he previously spoke with.

“I’m not here with anybody, so…”

“Right,” DK sighed, then caught himself, throwing up his hands, “Wait, wait, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You smiled and shrugged, shaking your head. “It’s okay,” you whispered, sneaking a glance to your right. He hadn’t moved.

“I’m telling you, put Ryujin on a flight.” Stepping closer, he laid a hand on your shoulder. “Or, I’ll have someone book it. I’m so glad you’re talking to her again.”

Your fingertips pressed into your biceps again. “She’s got… school,” you muttered.

DK curled his lip. “She’s got life to live,” he said, and you smiled. “I’ve heard you talk about her before. Get her on a plane, Jagi.” Adjusting the cap on his head, he returned the smile and squeezed your shoulder. Just as he was about to walk away, jog up the stairs, and leave you for work, you latched onto his hand and pulled him closer to you. From your hands to your eyes his wide gaze traveled. “You… okay.” His quick acceptance and attention made you laugh.

“What are your plans later?”

DK opened his mouth and closed it twice, looking all over you for the butt of the joke. “Me?” He shook his head. “Mine?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

He glanced over your shoulder toward Woozi and his friends. “Uh, we’re going to go down Festa Street, there’s a… place that does Throwback Thursdays, we wanted to check it out.”

“Can I come with you?”

Holding his breath, he waited a second for a rebuttal. “Of course,” he sighed, giving your hand a squeeze. “I know I shouldn’t, uh, question why, but… You really want to come hang out with me and my friends?”

The thought of doing anything else nauseated you.

“I do,” you said, and it deepened his smile. Like Woozi, that thing flashed in his eyes. He knew why you were asking. There was another question lingering closeby, a name hidden behind his teeth, one that forced you to mumble, “No.” He left it alone.

The name came bouncing down the dugout stairs anyhow, Hoshi and Minghao behind him with their wives on their hips, the girls dressed like they were worth millions of dollars.

“There she is,” Mingyu called out, his arms spread open. Throwing them around you your hand fell out of DK’s grip, your brother taking a step backward. Pressing kisses to your cheek, Mingyu rocked you side to side. “Knew you wouldn’t miss my first game.” Grabbing onto his arms, you tried to put some space between you, maneuvering your head around to say hi to the other four.

DK had his eyes glued to Mingyu, a polite smile on his lips barely reaching his eyes. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said to you, somehow avoiding the way you begged him with your eyes to get you out of this.

You knew what he’d say, he could do so without actually saying it. You did this yourself. In the nicest, most DK way possible, he’d tell you that you did this yourself.

“What?” Mingyu sighed, pulling away from you, turning you by your shoulders to face him. His bright smile faded, and DK disappeared up the stairs. “What’s he mean tonight?”

Placing your hands over his, you said, “I’m gonna go out with him and his friends.”

“Tonight?” he asked, tone growing snarky.

“Yes.”

Throwing his eyes around him for a moment, he huffed a laugh and narrowed his gaze. “It’s the night of our first game, we’re celebrating, you don’t wanna come with me? Hoshi and Hao are ready to buy out Cheers.”

They’d fallen in love with that bar. Head over heels, all four of them. Other players would come and go each night, if you could remember, but Mingyu, Hoshi, Minghao… That became their spot. Over these last two weeks Cheers had started promoting their appearance, using their names to draw a crowd which packed the place more than it should be.

“I know,” you said, still aiming to speak above a whisper. “And, it sounds like so much fun, I always have fun there with you guys, but I haven’t seen DK in, like, two weeks.”

“He’s your brother, you can see him anytime you want,” he grumbled, brows falling over his eyes. Just as expected.

Pulling his hands off of you, you cradled them. “You steal me away,” you attempted a joke. He didn’t find it funny. “One night with DK. Please?”

A sigh fell from him as he tipped his chin back. “Better find you in my room when you come back.”

A booming voice sounded over the speakers, filling the entire stadium with cheers and shouts as the sportscaster announced the starting lineups for each team. DK had his name called first and chills rolled down your spine. Every person in the place with a viable voice made some sort of noise. You couldn’t help the smile that lit up your face.

That would never get old.

Mingyu squished your cheeks together and pulled you in for a kiss. “Are you behind home?”

“No,” you said, and he frowned. “I gave my tickets to a mom and a daughter I met on the way down here. They’re huge DK fans, and I think life hasn’t been nice to them recently. Think I’ll go to the suite with Daya and Halle.”

A grin broke onto his lips. “Perfect,” he whispered, kissing you once more before he let you go to follow the girls out of the dugout, onto the field, and up into the stands.

A drink sat on the table in front of you, the melted ice leaving a puddle in its wake as you took the straw between your lips. Seated in a booth against a wall, DK sat beside you, leaning over the glossed chestnut wood to talk to Woozi at the end of the table on your other side. His girlfriend Melody sat across from you, their hands intertwined on top of the table. Her long, sleek black hair fell down her back over her denim jacket with the number 22 patched onto the front pocket. A lot of the girls had niche clothes like this, their boy's numbers or their names stitched or plastered onto it somehow.

You stuck to the normal merch, cutting it with the help of one of your stylists back home, having her stitch the pieces together to create something that seemed original. The numbers of your brother or your boyfriend never made it onto the pieces, but you did own several DK jerseys, snatching up every version created since he played for the Cyclones.

Once upon a time you dreamed of wearing a boyfriend's number like the other girls. Ever since you were a teenager, seeing Jihyo wear Jun’s number and his name, small businesses creating and gifting her original pieces with their family name on it, commemorating Jun and his legacy, you wanted it too.

But, not in the WAG way.

Never in the WAG way.

Sitting here at the table, staring at the red 22 and their hands together, you weren’t really sure in what way you meant. Lifting your chin, meeting her dark eyes, you leaned forward onto your elbows and asked, “Melody, what do you do?” The conversation amongst the guys silenced. This girl was fairly new. Woozi dated here and there throughout your years of knowing him, but since your years at Nasara, Melody had been somewhat of a secret. DK told you in confidence one night on his living room couch, the two of you buried in big blankets watching movies, Woozi wanted to marry her.

Three years together, having only shown her face to the public in the last few months, they were in it for the long haul. This season will be a test, DK told you. Melody, a quieter personality, she wasn’t used to attention like this in the slightest. If they made it through the summer he was going to ask her to be his wife.

“I’m a casting director,” she said with a smile. Her porcelain skin complimented her darker features beautifully. She glanced at Woozi with a shy shrug. “Well, aspiring, I guess.”

He drug his thumb over the back of her hand and nodded. “And you’re doing a great job,” he said to her.

Looking back at you, blush evident on her cheeks, she said, “Right now I’m the assistant to a casting director of a… pretty big company,” she chose her words carefully, darting her eyes between you and DK who listened to her talk with a small smile. There were things she couldn’t reveal, you caught on quick, but your brother definitely knew the hidden facts. “We’re gearing up to start a project real soon, so this is like a vacation for me.”

Tilting your head, you studied her, sharing a look with the pretty girl where she told you exactly what you wanted to find out. Whipping your head around, wide eyed as you looked at your brother, he laughed and slapped a hand to your shoulder.

“Yes,” he laughed through his words. “Exactly what you’re thinking, yes.” Facing the couple, he said, “She doesn’t keep up with our mom so much right now-”

“As if you do,” you sneered, cutting him off.

DK shot you a look. “I do when my friends start to work for her.”

Woozi and Melody smiled at one another, letting you siblings bicker in peace.

“And the last time you called her? Was when?”

DK rolled his eyes. “Whatever, she can call me too, yanno.”

There was a subtle shift in energy, one you both felt and ignored, but acknowledged. The, the phone works both ways, argument.

You faced Melody who waited with patience. “That’s so cool,” you said, sipping your drink. “Do you love it? Your job?”

“I do,” she said. Jihoon looked over her with pride, a sort of proudness for his girlfriend, his successful, hardworking girlfriend who had a name for herself elsewhere instead of just being someone's girlfriend. Some baseball players girlfriend. “Took me years to get here. I’m still not where I want to be, but I’m willing to pay my dues. Any experience is good experience, and I want it all.”

DK glanced at you, one you didn’t return.

“How do you… How do you balance… this?” Gesturing toward their hands, you held DK in your peripheral praying to a god you weren’t sure you believed in that he would keep his mouth shut.

The couple shared something between them, their grip on one another tightening.

“Patience,” Melody said.

“Understanding,” Woozi smiled, making her smile.

“Communication,” Melody whispered.

Your cheeks warmed, their love radiated louder the longer they stared at each other.

“Some days it’s a lot of work,” Woozi said, looking at you, and you wondered if he could read your mind. “When you both want it, it’s worth it.”

“There’s definitely hard days, weeks even, but- Oh, trust,” she said, looking amongst you all, “Forgot to add that in there, too. That one’s huge. When he gets on the road and I’m at home stuck in my office, or if I’m on trips and he’s in the middle of the off season…”

The idea of your parents popped into your mind while she spoke. Your mother, home and glued to her books or her editor or her publishing company, your father, on the road, out and about with his team and other women. Scandals were endless, your father on the front page with a girl that wasn’t your mother on his hip each time he played a series in another part of the country. It wasn’t all his fault though, your mother’s editor spent a lot of time at your house, spending time with you and DK barely old enough to realize what was going on. He’d spend nights there, he’d cook for you, he’d take you and your brother in the pool if your mother was stuck behind one of her screens.

Now that your father was retired and your mothers career was set in legendary status, the two were inseparable, as if nothing had ever happened, leaving you and DK to pick up the brunt of the messes they’ve made. Every now and again the media caught you with questions regarding their past, of whether or not they were going to stay married, if they worked through their problems, if you and DK shared a father. It was all a mess, and as long as you live you’ll never forgive them for leaving you and DK to pick up the pieces. Neither of them addressed the questions, nor the way their children were harassed by the public regarding their relationship and their past.

It’s why you took up the surname Moon, just to fuck with them. Questions of why, something you’ll never entertain.

With Woozi and Melody at this table, talking to each other with such care, such understanding, it warmed your heart. It reminded you that real, genuine love existed.

You peeked over at a table not far from yours. Seungkwan and Joshua sat with a few bench players, but across from the blonde, leaning over the table with a smile on his face was Vernon. He made player of the game, the Lions social media blew his face up as soon as the game was over, and all throughout each inning they posted his highlights. The game had been crazy, like he’d been a part of the team all along, his chemistry mixing right in with everyone else's.

He deserved the praise, the attention, even though you knew he wouldn’t accept it, even if it looked like he was. Today had been enough to fuel someone's ego for life, set a standard for them for the years to come, but not Vernon. If it had been anyone else, like it had been in the past, you’d never hear the end of it, and come to think of it, you don’t.

His follower count grew in record time. The Lions fans welcomed him in with loving arms. Sure enough, maybe even by tomorrow, the stands would be full of jerseys with his name on it.

DK slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Go talk to him,” he whispered, and you shivered.

“Are you kidding me?” You laughed and looked down at the table. Grabbing your drink, you sucked it down faster, your brother watching.

“What’s the worst that can happen?”

You nearly choked on the liquor going down your throat. “He could ignore me, and embarrass me in front of your friends.”

DK glanced at that table. “Kwan and Shua are your friends too, just so you know.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, sliding the glass over the table. “I’m gonna go to the bar, does anybody want anything?”

“We’re good,” Woozi said, exchanging glances with Melody. Your brother pressed his lips together as you stood up, smoothing your hands over your jeans.

“Anything?” you asked, tone short.

He smiled. “No thanks,” he said with a head shake. “Come back, okay?”

Stepping away, you nodded at him without verbally expressing anything. Seungkwan looked up as you passed by their table. He glanced at DK and slid out of his seat, hurrying over for your brother, jumping into the spot you left vacant.

Pulling your phone from your pocket to distract yourself as you weaved through the people crowding the tight space, a groan leaked from your lips without you even knowing. Your screen was lit up with several notifications, none of which you wanted.

[thirteen<3]: I miss you already

[thirteen<3]: Daya and Hoshi keep buying rounds of tequila shots, do I keep going or are you coming here?

[thirteen<3]: Damn I don’t get to see you and you won’t answer me either

[thirteen<3]: what did I do to deserve this???

[thirteen<3]: Kidding btw, I just miss you.

There were several stories posted from the game today, Vernon’s name in nearly every headline taunting you. Scrolling through a couple as you hopped onto a barstool, you screenshotted the ones that threatened to make you smile. Ones you wanted to save. Ones you wanted to send to him even though he’d probably already seen them.

[thirteen<3]: You read my messages, I know your there

Taking a deep breath, you ordered a cocktail from the woman behind the bar and typed away.

[you:] I’m here. Are you having fun?

[thirteen<3]: Would be if you were here

[thirteen<3]: Daya keeps requesting awful songs

[you]: Where’s Hoshi?

Thanking the woman as she placed the glass in front of you with a smile, you brought the straw to your lips and let the sweetness coat your tongue.

[thirteen<3]: He’s here somewhere, i dont know

[thirteen<3]: He doesnt like to dance

[you]: Who are you dancing with

[thirteen<3]: Daya!!

You pushed a laugh through your nose, drinking from your straw even faster. Bubbles appeared and disappeared several times, and then a photo popped up. In the middle of a crowded dance floor, the one in Cheers, Mingyu held the phone up over his head giving you a near birds eye view of just how close he and Daya were on the dance floor together. She smiled up at the camera, her eyes closed, her white teeth shining. With both hands she flipped the bird while Mingyu pulled his infamous lip curl, one eye closed with a peace sign.

Unsure whether or not she was stupid, or just didn’t care what she was doing, you gave the photo a heart, then locked your phone and shoved it back into your pocket.

“Another?” the woman asked, appearing in front of you with her cute customer service smile. Nodding, you pushed your glass closer to her.

“Please,” you mumbled.

He could dance with Daya, that was fine. They could unknowingly flirt with one another, sure. If Daya was doing what you thought she was doing, something would happen tonight, while you weren’t there.

It all clicked at once.

“You Isla?” a man asked from behind you, placing himself at your side. Giving him a look, tanned skin and a Lions hat, you nodded. “I thought so, you’re DK’s sister, right?”

“It is her?” Another voice made itself known to your left, wedging between the barstools to lean against the bar. Both men reeked of booze, their words stumbling together as they spoke. “Shit, I didn’t think we’d ever find you.”

“You were looking for me?” you questioned, thanking the bartender with a smile as she brought you another drink. Taking it from the bar quickly you placed your hand over the top and the straw between your fingers.

The man to your right laughed. “Not looking, but like, we thought we wouldn’t run into you, at least alone.”

You lowered your brows, willing away your own intoxication. “Alone?”

“Without Mingyu,” the man on your left blurted out.

Looking between the two of them, the way they learned on the bar, the way they stared at you, you made a face. “My brother is here, so is half of his team, I’m not alone.”

The one in the hat glanced around you obnoxiously with a smirk. “You look pretty alone to me.”

“What do you want?” You grit your teeth, and he bit his lip.

“Just wanna talk to you,” he said, sharing a look with his friend whose laugh chilled your spine. “Can we buy you a drink? Not much you don’t like, want us to surprise you?”

Usually, in situations like this one, you could handle yourself, but the vibe these two gave off, it was one you did not like. You brought your straw to your lips and shook your head. “I’m good. Thanks.”

The one in the hat groaned, tapping your arm with his elbow. He was clearly the leader of this operation. “Come on, just one, we want to. We’re big fans, we don’t want anything weird, I promise.”

“Promise,” his friend to your left reiterated, attempting a reassuring nod of his head. “We just wanna show our appreciation.”

You raised a brow. “For?” He gestured to you, all of you, head to toe, then added the rest of the team quickly. “Okay,” you said, sighing harshly. “One drink.”

One led to five fast.

Before you knew it you were laughing with them, knocking back shots other guys bought for you. You acquired a following, shadows hanging around you looking for your attention. The one in the hat, the first one to approach you, he got comfortable, feeling some sort of seniority for finding you first. His arm ended up around you at some point as guy after guy came up to you shamelessly flirting, saying things you couldn’t quite comprehend, but knew you wouldn’t like if you were sober.

“You want me to tell ‘em all to leave?” the man in the hat whispered in your ear, his arm around you while another guy stood in front of you. Blinking, everything dizzy, you looked up at him, eyebrows squeezing together in the center of your forehead.

“And, what?” you asked, squinting. “Leave me here with who, you?”

A laugh pushed through his lips, his gaze scattering elsewhere. “I mean, they’re not bothering you?”

Taking your time, you looked over every single one of them, their heads tipped up, nonsense spewing from their lips. One big competition of who could be the loudest, the most obnoxious. Not one compared to a single guy on your brother's baseball team, they were all trashy Haos tourists.

You looked up at Hat Man. “I’d definitely prefer it if you were all women.”

“Oh shit,” his eyes lit up, “You’re into that?”

You finished the drink in your hand and placed it on the bar. “It’s not a kink.”

“It is for me,” he smirked and you cringed.

“Leave,” you almost shouted, trying to stand up. His arm around you kept you on the stool.

“No, wait, wait,” his laugh made your skin crawl. “I didn’t mean it like that, I mean it’s cool if you’re, you know, bi, or whatever, right? That’s what you are?” You tried to stand again, but he moved in front of you, your knees pressing to his thighs. “It’s okay, I’m sure there’s a girl in here somewhere, want me to look?”

Tapping his chest with a finger in a weak attempt to move him, you looked up at him in utter disgust. “She’d be more likely to agree to me, with me. And we’d leave you, because you are not it.”

His face fell, an anger replacing anything else he was feeling. “What the fuck?” he muttered, his grip tightening on your shoulders. “This whole time I thought you were feeling this,” he said. You shook your head. “You fucking bitch,” he snickered, giving you a slight shake. Fear sparked within you, your eyes going wide. “That’s what you are, you know that right? I’m over here acting all nice, but you really are what they say you are. A fucking bitch.”

“Take your fucking hands off of her.”

The voice, one full of rage that made it so deep, it brought tears to your eyes.

The man in the hat laughed aloud, pulled back, turned around and withheld his gasp, but the way his eyes widened expressed his shock. His face, patient, completely straight, stared back at him, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. Tearing his eyes off the man, he looked at you and the tears slipped down your cheeks.

“She belong to you?” the man asked, venom in his voice, trying to regain any sort of traction, any sort of fight. “You know what she’s been over here doing?”

Vernon ignored him. Keeping his eyes on you he wrapped an arm around your back and helped you off the stool, catching you as you stumbled into his hold. Nerves infected your veins, this close to him, looking up at him, feeling him, touching him, smelling him, all of it. He was the same as he’s ever been, as comforting as he’s been since the first day you met him. And he held you the same, muscle memory.

“Let’s go,” he said to you, pushing the guy out of the way, reaching up to knock the Lions hat off of his head before he pushed by anyone else.

“She’s a slut, new kid!” he shouted after the two of you. “Nothing but a bitch!”

“Don’t listen to him,” Vernon muttered, guiding you through the bar, through the crowds to the door. Pushing it open to more crowds, new crowds to gawk at you, he walked you over to a black car and placed you by the passenger door. Pulling it open, he moved you inside with a light tap to your back. Flashes lit up from the tables and people by the door to the bar behind you, flashes he sighed at. You turned to look, but his hand on his shoulder aided in gently putting you in the car. “Don’t,” he whispered, “Leave them alone.”

He pushed the door shut once you were seated, the car brand new, smelling fresh and like leather. It was way smaller than anything your brother owned, but it was clean, and definitely expensive. Laying your head back on the headrest, your world spun, forcing you to take deep breaths into your stomach. Wiping your eyes, your cheeks, you looked out the windows for Vernon. On the phone he wandered around the front of the car, glancing at you occasionally, his mouth moving a mile a minute.

Your heart sunk into your gut. He looked good. Different, but good. Instead of a t-shirt he wore a black button down, half of it tucked into his black jeans that hugged his thighs. A leather belt strapped around his waist complimented the same chain that hung around his neck, one you remembered once brushed over your nose. That night in the locker room, the only night you ever shared with him. It was enough to ruin you entirely, nothing would ever be as satisfying, as fulfilling.

He got into the driver's seat, his phone dropping into his lap with the release of a breath. Looking at you once, he pulled his door shut and laid his head backward. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said.

“Yeah,” you whispered, half conscious of what was coming out of your mouth. Pulling your feet up on the seats, you wrapped your arms around your knees and focused forward through the tinted windshield. “Sorry.”

Silence surrounded you. A sound that once went unnoticed between you, something that didn’t need to be addressed, something you both understood. It held a different semblance now, full of questions unanswered, feelings unknown.

You didn’t want to, but you cried. Since you saw his face, you couldn’t stop.

“Isla, you’re okay,” he said, frozen where he sat. “Those guys were assholes, you know that. When have you ever let a guy get to you like this?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, pressing your hands to your cheeks. Sucking in a breath, you shook your head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He turned his head, a look you couldn’t reciprocate.

“Why?”

“You always have to take care of me,” you gasped, burying your face in your hands. “I’m sorry.” You wondered if he knew half of your apologies were aimed at September. And, December. And, two weeks ago.

He took a breath. “I wasn’t gonna leave you with those assholes.”

“But, you hate me,” you whispered, and he moved himself around entirely, facing you where he sat.

“When did I ever say that?” Taking your hands away, you found him looking at you like you had grown a second head. “Who told you that?”

“No one,” you said. “It was… implied.”

Vernon shut his eyes for a few seconds. “Isla, I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t talk to me,” you whispered. “You don’t want to talk to me, you don’t want anything to do with me.” Opening his eyes, the look on his face hurt your heart. “You’re all I can think about, you’re all I’ve been able to think about, for a really, really long time.”

Taking his lip between his teeth, he averted his eyes elsewhere and gathered his thoughts. “I did not want to have this conversation like this, you’re drunk.”

Tears fell from your eyes. “I’m always drunk. Why?”

His eyes softened as they met yours. “Is that rhetorical?” Laying your head down on your knees, you shook your head, your lips trembling. “What were you trying to forget about tonight?” The answer popped in your head immediately, but you didn’t want to say it, not to him. You forgot he was able to read your mind. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

“Mingyu,” you whispered on command. The self awareness he had to not make a face continued to impress you. “The thought of you not wanting me.”

He wrapped a hand around the steering wheel and stared at it. “It’s not that I don’t want you, Isla,” he said under his breath. “I’ll always want you.” A breath shot through you. He turned his chin toward you. “I love you, and unfortunately I think no matter what you do, I always will.” Twisting in your seat you watched as he moved himself backward, like he was expecting you to reach for him. “As soon as I heard you were with your brother I thought you were finally gonna have some peace, but these kinds of people keep finding you. They know what to use against you to get what they want, and it kills me ‘cause I know you’re smarter than this.”

“If I am then why does it keep happening?”

A small smile hit his lips for a millisecond. “A lot of things,” he mumbled. “We grew up differently, I could start there.”

Your stomach took a tumble. “Dont,” you whispered, and he bobbed his head.

“Exactly, see, you already know it,” he said. “You got to a point when we were at Nasara, where you were so sick of it, you knew what you had to do. At least, that’s what I thought had happened when you left and Aurora told me you were with DK. Even those first few weeks when you didn’t answer me, I just kept thinking, this is it, he’s gonna help her, get her help. I didn’t need a response, I know you, Iya,” the slip of the nickname triggered the tears, “You would answer me when you were ready, and I really didn’t know where you were, so if you were somewhere,” he tilted his head at the same time like he couldn’t bring himself to say the word rehab, “I figured you’d answer me when it was over, but…”

New Years happened. Photos of you and Mingyu locking lips hit the internet, and no, you weren’t getting help, you latched yourself onto the very opposite.

Vernon knew it too with the way he looked at you now.

“V,” you whispered, and the softest smile graced his lips.

“What were you trying to forget?”

A shaky breath ripped through your lungs, the tears staining your cheeks coming to a standstill. Shaking your head, nibbling your lips, you whispered, “You.”

“Why?” he asked, voice pure, the question genuine, ripped from his brain and thrown into your face. Not a thought formed, the best you could do was plead with him with your eyes. “Isla, I thought there was something between us.”

“There was,” you said. “There is.”

He tried his best to not scoff in your face, but it happened anyway. “Then why ignore me? Why push me away? I fell in love with you, and you vanished.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered. Jaw ajar, midthought, Vernon blinked a few times and stared at you. Snapping his mouth shut, his jaw clenched as he looked away. “I thought I wasn’t gonna see you again.”

He almost broke his neck with how fast he looked at you. “Isla, you could’ve answered the phone and found out.”

“I know,” you nearly shouted, screwing your face up. “I was scared, I was trying to ignore everything, DK was on me, he did want me to go somewhere but I wouldn’t, and I tried therapy, and I tried outpatient shit, but it sucked, and then Mingyu came back ‘cause he knew I was around, and it’s all a mess from there. The shit from Nasara stuck with me, I thought it wouldn’t fuck me up that bad, but it’s like… a problem.”

Your heart lodged into your throat. He had reached over and wrapped a hand around your wrist.

“Okay,” he breathed, encouraging you to breathe with him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain it to me, I told you, Isla, I know you.” You were both paralyzed in place. “It’s okay to need help, it’s okay to admit that you need help. And, because I know you, I know that it’s gonna make you want to run away somewhere else, but you can’t.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t,” he said, giving your wrist a gentle shake. “I wanna record you saying that so tomorrow you can’t deny it.”

Your eyes widened. “You’re gonna talk to me tomorrow?”

He smiled. “I have wanted to talk to you every single day,” he let go of your wrist and settled back into his side of the car. “But, you have a… boyfriend. I don’t think he likes me, by the way.”

Shying away, you mumbled, “I told him we fucked.”

Not an infliction on his face. “Hm,” he hummed, glancing out the windshield, “Is that what we did?” When he looked back at you and your sappy eyes, you shook your head. “Explains why he looks at me the way he does.”

“He doesn’t like DK either,” you said, and Vernon went stoic. “He won’t talk to him, DK tries, but Mingyu avoids him.”

“Seems about right,” Vernon muttered. Questioning him with a brow, he said, “Why would a guy who’s trying to manipulate you into what he wants associate himself with people who want what's best for you?”

Groaning, burying your face back in your hands, you said, “You sound like Ryujin.”

Vernon smiled. “I know.”

You never looked at him faster. “What?”

“She’s my friend too, Iya,” he breathed through a laugh. “I don’t hear details, don’t worry, but I hear enough to know that your little relationship thing is not good for you.”

“Why would she tell you anything!?”

He shrugged, fingers tapping the steering wheel. Shifting in his seat, looking away from you, he said, “She wants us together.”

A chill breezed over your skin. Brushing your hands over the bumps you sat backward and lowered your chin, waiting for him to meet your eyes. When he did, you whispered, “I do, too.”

Pulling into a lazy smile, his lips parted, and he whispered, “Me too.”

home;run masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

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kaliforniahigh · 13 hours ago

Note

folio thots anon here 👋 back with more thots but about matt this time

enemies to not friends but something hotter? ambiguous relationship

you bump into a guy in a ghostface mask (matt) at a halloween party that you didn't even want to go to, but were dragged to by your best friend. she's ditched you and now this guy almost knocks you over, but he's apologetic.

“you scared me there” he says. you rebuttal that you didn't but he stands his ground. “no you look pretty scary. i'm terrified of hot women in a scary masks and fishnets.” and while you're definitely not dressed scary aside from a purge mask you borrowed from your roommate, you are dressed somewhat sexy in a black skirt and fishnets and now know this guy was checking you out.

a little back and forth flirting leads you back inside the house and any thoughts about ditching you had prior to this are gone.

he never takes the mask off and you don't either, but you start making jokes about not wanting ghostface to kill you which leads into a playful chase around the party.

before you know it you're alone in a room with him, your heart racing and thighs squeezing together because fuck you're actually turned on by this and fuck it, you do have a mask kink.

you don't even try to stop him when he approaches you, your hands already reaching out for him and undoing his belt before you fall to your knees and lift your mask up just enough to expose your mouth and take him.

only once he's hard and wet enough do you pop him free and stand back up for him to push you against the wall and take you, ripping your fishnets in the process.

it shouldn't be as hot as it is being fucked by someone you don't know, but holy shit why does that just make it even better to you.

and god he sounds so mean, calling you all sorts of degrading names; slut, whore, cockslut, even him calling you a good girl makes you clench and moan around him as he drives himself into you without mercy.

“you like being fucked by some guy you don't know, huh? you like being a slut for my cock?” you're practically delirious as he says these things, and all you can answer with is yes, over and over until he finally pushes you over the edge.

when you finally come down from your high is when you see it, the lord of the rings shirt. you don't need to take the mask off to know who it is beneath, but you reach out and do so anyway. the smug look on his face makes you remove your own, ready to chew him out but he hits you with the: “i thought you knew it was me.”

you didn't, or at least you think you didn't. in reality you'd know his voice anywhere, especially with the way it was growling in your ear, calling you the most degrading things imaginable. it's not that you hate matt, you just think he's an ass and yes, you've fantasied about hate fucking him but for it to actually happen is a whole different thing.

“if you tell anyone.” you threaten, but he's not scared of you, he's always snarking back and maybe that's why he gets under your skin so much. “who am i going to tell?”

I absolutely LOVE enemies to lovers and hate fucking with Matt, that is my trope!!!!

You nailed this, because he WOULD be so mean to you, and calling you names and insulting you. And the fact that he knew it was you, but you didn't know it was him, but he got you all hot and bothered anyway??

He would be so smug about it, and teasing you all the time about how you were so pliant and begging him to fuck you.

#matt dierkes #matt dierkes fanfiction #matt dierkes fluff #matt dierkes smut #matt dierkes one shot #matt dierkes headcannon #matt dierkes fic #matt dierkes x reader #matt dierkes blurb #bad omens #bad omens imagine #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens smut #bad omens fluff #bad omens fic #bad omens one shot #bad omens headcanons #ask

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runningincircl3s · 2 days ago

Text

Nothing Ever After

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Vinny Mauro

Chapter Fourteen

chapter warnings: tiny mention of implied smut?

team vinny we are so up for the next few chapters :) sorry for the delay on posting this one, the next chapter might also be a little late because I'm soo busy this next week and I haven't had a chance to even begin editing it but as soon as I can I will get working on it because it's my favourite chapter I've written for this story so far and i really can't wait to share it with you!! <3

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“You don’t have to hide it from me, y’know?” Noah says, his hair falling over his eyes, hand gently placed on your waist as he smiles down at you, “I know how you feel about him.”

“What?”

“Vinny. I’ve seen the way you look at him, it’s okay if you’re in love with him, that’s why I’ve told him to meet us here.”

“Huh?” You laugh, "I'm not in love-"

“Look, he’s on his way.”

You look up and see Vinny walking towards the both of you, something looked different about him, but he was definitely still him.

“So you finally made your decision.” Vin smiles, a sparkle was in his eye that you had never seen before.

“What decision?” You didn't understand what was going on.

“You agreed.” Said Noah, his thumb drawing circles on your hip.

“To what?” You asked.

“I wasn’t too sure at first when Noah suggested it, baby,” Vinny began, “But the more I thought about it, the more I realised I wanted it.”

It finally clicked, and you understood why the both of them were here. A rush of excitement rushed through you, adreneline in your veins as you look between the two men in front of you. Your lips crashed into Vin’s as Noah’s found your neck, you’d had this thought many times before, but you never thought it would actually happen.

“God, I need you both,” you moan, feeling Vinny’s- or was it Noah’s hand cupping your breast, as the others' hand came down to your ass, “Please…”

“What do you think? Should we play nice?” Noah asked Vinny, who nodded his head.

"I think she deserves it."

"Please..." You whimpered, feeling Noah's hot breath tickle your ear as he whispered,

"Get on your knees, princess. Vin's being too kind, I think you need to earn it."

You dropped to your knees in front of Vinny, palming him over his joggers, the ache between your thighs was becoming unbearable as you tugged Vin's boxers down.

“Y/n.” You heard Vin pant as you took him in your mouth, your tongue dancing over his tip before you take him down your throat, Noah's voice whispering praises as he plays with your hair, “y/n…”

“Y/n! Rise and shine!” Vinny shouted, waking you from your nap.

“What the fuck, Vin!” You groaned, rubbing your eyes, “You just woke me up from the best dream I’ve had in years.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, “was I in it?”

“You wish.” You groaned, sitting up to stretch your arms, ignoring how your underwear felt slightly damp as you moved, making you feel rather uncomfortable. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I broke my charger and Jolly’s letting me borrow his. Which one’s his bunk?”

“The one on top of mine.”

“Thanks.” He looks, and then freezes. He stands there in silence for a moment. You panicked internally, wondering if you were moaning his name in your sleep, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, I guess.” You say, reaching around to see where you left your phone when you fell asleep to hide the redness of your cheeks.

“It’s going to sound insane.”

“Of course, it’s coming from you.” You smirk.

“Y/n, I’m serious.”

“Okay, sorry. Ask away.” You wondered what could be that serious.

“It’s my parent’s 40th wedding anniversary this weekend and they’re having a party, they're renewing their vows...”

“Okay…” You expected him to ask you for help to re-dye his hair or to find something to wear or-

“The thing is... My parents think I have a girlfriend, I’ve never told them I do or don’t, but they’re expecting me to bring someone. I, uh, wanted to ask you because,” you’d never seen Vinny look this nervous in the entire month that you’ve known him, “Well, I thought maybe you could bring your camera, I could tell them my ‘girlfriend’ is a photographer. I’ll make sure I tell them that we’ve broken up next week so they don’t keep asking about you or asking about our plans for the future or-”

"So you want me to be your imaginary girlfriend."

"No- Well, I mean it's not like, I mean you won't-"

“Vinny, it's okay,” you smile, “I’ll do it. I don’t know how I’ll explain it to the rest of the guys-”

“If any of them ask I’ll tell them you’re coming with me just as a photographer, I’ve already thought this through.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, surprised he'd really thought about this, “You certainly have.”

“So you’ll definitely come with me?” He asked, “I think my dad might be calling me later so I’ll let him know.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I said no,” you gave him an innocent smile, “Tell Mr Mauro I said hello.”

“Oh, I was just coming to wake you up.” You hear Noah’s voice, “We’ve checked into our rooms, I’m so glad we’re here for the next few days, I have so much work to get done.” He sighed, reaching for his laptop that he left in his bunk.

“Vin’s just told me his parents are having an anniversary party this weekend and they’ve asked me to be their photographer, isn’t that right, Vin?”

“Yeah," Vin scratches the back of his neck, "They’ve seen some of the pictures y/n's taken from the last few weeks and asked if she was free this weekend. It’s on Saturday night so we’ll stay there and come back on Sunday.”

“Oh that’s great,” Noah smiled, rubbing your shoulder, and all of a sudden seeing Noah and Vin both stood over you, you got a flashback to your dream. “And there you were weeks ago worrying you wouldn’t get booked.” You smiled back at him, agreeing.

"Anyway that's all I had to say," Vin smiled, spotting Jolly's phone charger. You had to look away as he reached up to Jolly's bunk, his sweater raising and exposing the trail of hair below his belly button- "See you guys!"

"Bye Vin." You give him a little wave as he walked off.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Once you’ve checked into your room and searched through your suitcase you realised you didn’t really have anything to wear for this type of occasion. You had party outfits, casual outfits, but nothing you could imagine wearing for an anniversary party.

You sent a text to Angela asking if she was busy in the next couple of days and wanted to go shopping with you, you knew her schedule and knew she had nothing going on during your guys' break. It was currently Thursday, and the party was on Saturday night, meaning you and Vinny would have to leave in the morning or the night before to make it to his parent's town in time.

Whilst you were sat on your bed looking online for outfit inspiration, you heard a knock at your door. You throw your phone down on the bed and get up to see who was disturbing you.

“Everything okay?” You ask, letting him in.

“Yeah, I just wanted to see you.” He smiled, shutting the door behind himself.

“You see me pretty much everyday, Noah.” You laughed, sitting back down on your bed.

“Yeah, but like you pointed out the other day, the only time we ever get to spend together alone is when you’re under me or pushed against a wall.” He chuckles, sitting with you, his back against the headboard. “I don’t remember the last time we had a proper conversation.”

“You warned me about how busy the tour life is, this just proves it, doesn't it?” You smiled, “I still can’t believe this past month has been real. I’ll never be able to repay Bryan or you guys for this.”

“I can think of a few ways you can repay me.” Noah smirks, and you shake your head.

“I thought you wanted to spend time with me without-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry.” He held his hands up, thinking of a way to change the topic. “I don’t know if I ever asked you how you and Bryan met?”

“Through the photography club at school,” you explain, “I changed schools when I had just turned 14 and I had no friends, we had just moved to a new town, so at lunch I spent my time in the art classrooms and it just so happened they were starting a photography club in the class I’d go to. I wasn’t even that into photography or anything, but that's where I met Bryan. He was quite new to the school too and only had a handful of friends, so everyone who already had their friendship groups would sit together and because we didn’t have anyone we were just put together on a separate table. So over the weeks we finally started talking to each other, and realised we had a lot in common, then we just became best friends from there.” You smiled at the memory, wondering if Bryan still remembered it as clearly as you.

“It’s weird to think if that never happened you wouldn’t be here right now.” He said, “So you didn’t even want to get into photography?”

“No,” you laughed, “I guess it just sort of happened.”

“I’m glad it happened,” he smiled, “And I’m glad you’re here.”

As you looked into his eyes, you felt nothing but pure guilt. How could you not tell him about you and Vinny? You were sure he was feeling more for you than he’d let on, and you were about to go to a party with Vinny and pretend to be his girlfriend.

“Noah, look... There’s something I need to tell you.”

*Buzz buzz*

“Shit sorry I really need to take this-” Noah reached for his phone, answering it and rushing to leave your room.

You couldn’t say you didn’t try.

You groaned as he left, reaching for your phone to see if Angela’s replied to your texts yet.

“Ooh what kind of party are you going to ;)”

“I’m not doing anything this afternoon, I could come and pick you up if you want x”

You thought for a moment before you replied to her. You knew whatever Noah’s call was about was probably important, but there’s been countless times where he’s prioritised other things over you.

“I’m ready when you are x” You replied, leaving your phone on the bed as you went to find a hoodie and a pair of shoes, and then your door knocked again.

“I’m so sorry that was one of the guys from our record label asking about-”

“Angela’s coming to pick me up in a minute so I’ve gotta go, sorry Noah.” You snapped, not even bothering to look at him as you walk out of your room, shutting the door behind you and beginning to walk away.

“Y/n? Have I done something?” Noah asked, shaking his head in confusion. You stop in your tracks, thinking before you open your mouth.

“Every time I get a chance to spend time with you, or try to talk to you about something serious, something always comes up. I know things like this are out of your control but it happens too often and it pisses me off.”

“Like when?”

“Like when we’re occupied in bed and you suddenly get a call and you leave me laying there to answer it, like when we make plans and you’ve just so happened to forget you had an interview to do, or when we’re out and you see someone you know and you forget I’m even there. I don’t feel seen with you, Noah.”

“I’m not being funny, y/n, but we aren’t even together. To put it harshly, you always knew the band comes first, and if I remember right you just wanted casual sex, no actual relationship. So why does it bother you so much?”

Your jaw drops in disbelief at his words, he really went there.

“So I don’t mean anything to you?” Your heart was racing in your chest, you felt sick, angry and upset.

“I never fucking said that, did I?”

“You don’t need to say it, I know where I stand with you, Noah.” You argue, and other hotel guests slow down as they walk past, clearly trying to listen in on what’s happening.

“Can we not do this here?” Noah hisses.

“Good idea. I’ll see you later, Noah. I’m going out with Angela, because she cares about me, to buy a dress to wear to Vin’s family party because guess what, I bet on anything that he cares about me a whole lot more than you do.”

“You don’t know how I feel about you, y/n.” Noah says, the sound of defeat in his voice.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll see you later, y/n!” He mocks, walking in the opposite direction to you.

“Noah? What the fuck!”

He didn’t answer, he didn’t even bother to look at you.

You groaned, trying not to cry from the frustration, and made your way through the hotel to wait for Angela to pick you up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“So… What’s the occasion? You never told me when I asked.” Angela asked as you both searched through racks of clothes.

“Vinny invited me to his parent’s anniversary party.”

“Oh… So not anything slutty, okay…” She giggled.

“But get this, he told me that his parents think he has a girlfriend, he’s never told him that does or doesn’t, so he wants me to pretend to be his girlfriend for the night.”

“Well that’s a Vinny lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“What?”

“He totally just said that to get you to go with him so he can show you off. He’s really close with his family, there’s no way they would think he’s dating someone if he hasn’t said he is.”

“Well we’ll see about that then,” you smirk, “But what if I do want to pretend to be his girlfriend for the night, that would definitely piss Noah off.”

“Oh... What’s he done now?” Angela stops looking and turns to you, her hand on her hip.

“Nothing, yet everything, he’s just really annoyed me." You sigh, "He turns up to my room to spend time with me but then he gets a call and he runs out, it’s not like I don’t know his business, surely he should be able to take work calls around me.”

“It sounds like he doesn’t trust you…” She frowned.

“Exactly!”

“Oh my god y/n look!” She pulls out a gorgeous red dress, making you gasp, “Try it on! Try it on!” You claps, handing it over to you.

“I don’t know if red’s my colour…”

“That's even more of a reason for you to try it on and see if it is!” She smirks, “...But I do know it’s Vin’s favourite colour.”

You give her a look, before taking it and heading to the changing rooms to try it on.

“I think it’s a little tight…” You say as you walk out, and Angela’s jaw drops as you do a little twirl, “What do you think?”

“I think you're the most gorgeous girl ever!" She grins, "And I think Vinny's going to ask you to be his girlfriend for real when he sees this.” She suddenly gasps, giving you a serious look as she hands you your phone back. “Send a picture to Noah.”

“Why? He thinks I’m only going as a photographer.”

“What?”

“Vin came up with the plan to tell the guys I was only invited because his parents wanted a photographer, I thought it was a pretty good lie.”

“Vinny came up with that one didn’t he,” she laughed, “I guess they’ll believe it though.”

“Noah did.” You check yourself out in the mirror, and eventually pull your phone out from your bag and take a couple pictures in the mirror. You’d think about whether it was a good idea to send them or not as you shopped for a new pair of shoes.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“It’s actually pretty fortunate for you that there aren’t any shows this week,” you say as Vinny drives, “Did you plan the tour around this?”

“Kinda,” he says, looking over his shoulder as he turns onto his road, you wish you knew how he even made driving look so hot, “It's the longest tour we've done and knew we needed a break each month so we don’t all completely burn out, and it just so happened this weekend was during that break.”

Vinny thought it would be a good idea to hire a car from the city the guys were staying in for their break from tour to drive back to his house so the two of you could stay there for the night before taking his car and driving down to his parents town tomorrow.

“I don’t think my roommate’s here at the moment.” He says as he pulls up, parking the car in his driveway.

“Not that it matters,” you chuckle, checking your phone. You had sent the pictures to Noah yesterday, but you hadn’t heard from him since, he hadn’t even seen the messages. “What time have we got to leave tomorrow?”

“Probably around 12.” He says, getting out of the car and unlocking the door.

You smiled as you walked into his house, it was just how you’d pictured it. Framed awards on the walls and tour posters, a massive tv on the wall and a bong that he made sure to clarify was his roomate's. You turn around to see him bringing both yours and his suitcase in from the car, rather surprised by his strength as you see him carry them both up the steps to his porch with ease.

“Your house is so cute.” You smile, and by his reaction, he seemed rather offended.

“Cute?” He raised his eyebrows, as if to say 'seriously?' “Y/n I’m a guy…I live here with a guy… Our house is not cute!”

“Then how would you describe it?” You chuckle as he shuts the door behind him.

“I don’t know… Manly? Homely?"

You rolled your eyes, watching Vin put the keys away before he insisted on giving you a house tour, showing you around room by room.

“And this is where the magic happens!” He opens the door to the basement, putting his arm out as if to say ‘ladies first!’

“Do you know how creepy that sounds?” You laugh, slowly descending the staircase to his basement.

“This is where my drums are, I do my drum streams down here-”

“Can you give me a private show?” You gasped, but to your disappointment Vinny laughed and shook his head.

“I’ve been playing basically every other night for the last month! Surely you’ve heard enough.”

“Please?” You plead, watching as he tries to hide the smile on his face.

“Maybe later.” He gives in, walking you back up the stairs to his kitchen after showing you around the room.

“Can I request a song?”

“Depends,” he says, shutting the basement door, “Do I know it?”

“How am I supposed to know what you know, or don’t?”

“What is it?” He asked, reaching into his fridge, pulling out a sprite. “Want a drink?”

“Yes please,” you smiled, “I heard you played ‘somebody told me’ the night I wasn’t feeling well and stayed on the bus and you haven't played it again after…”

“So you want me to play it for you?” He asked, handing you a drink.

“Please? I’m coming to your parents’ anniversary party as your fake girlfriend, don’t you think you owe me something?”

“You’ve got a point there,” he acknowledges, “I need to shower first and pack for the weekend, but then I’ll do it.”

“Yay!” You grinned, “Can I take a shower after you?”

“Of course.” He smiled softly, “Also if you want my bed tonight I’ll sleep on the couch. I changed the sheets before I left for tour so they’re fresh-”

“I can’t kick you out of your own bedroom…” You frowned, “I’ll have the couch. I don’t care!”

“I will not let you sleep on my couch.” He chuckled, and a thought crossed your mind.

“If we were okay to share a bed the first night we met then I’m sure we’ll be okay again tonight, right?”

“If you're comfortable with that then we can.” He smiled, “I’m gonna go get in the shower, then it’ll be all yours. But in the meantime make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.” You said, watching as he left, walking up the stairs.

You made your way to his living room, getting comfy on the couch and scrolling through your phone. You tried not to think about Noah, but you couldn't help but wish he'd text you back. Whilst Vin was in the shower you considered calling him, but you didn't want to come across clingy. Maybe he just needed to calm down.

"I left my fucking shampoo in my bag." You heard Vinny laugh as he ran down the stairs, a white towel wrapped around his hips as he threw his suitcase onto the sofa beside you and searched through it.

You took a deep breath to calm your mind as you tried to be respectful, but you couldn't help but look at him. His wet curls, his bare chest, the bracelet on his wrist, the veins on his arms... You blinked, trying to concentrate on your phone but he definitely seemed to notice you staring, smirking before he walked back up the stairs.

You already knew it was going to be a long weekend.

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

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86 @itsyaboinoah

#noah sebastian x reader #nothing ever after <3 #vinny mauro x reader #noah sebastian fanfic #vinny mauro fanfic #motionless in white fanfic #bad omens fanfic

22 notes · View notes

thybirbman · 15 hours ago

Note

They are, in fact, each other's first friends at the academy. Only friends, really. Because guess what, Houhua? You are not the only adult trapped in a child's body! Well, you're the only genuine article, but Itachi's a genuine replica! In that, he is also way too mature and does not know how to act like a child while still being influenced by his child prison and is therefore off putting to the rest of the child population.

I totally get Houhua not noticing Itachi's puppy crush at all, that's super fun, but I am so attached to Houhua being fully aware of the crush. Like he knows this small child has THE biggest puppy crush on him, and the part that goes straight over his head is that he is not, in fact, an adult (and therefore romantically unattainable to a small child) human male that a small child has a puppy crush on. He is actually a small child that another small child has a puppy crush on. Meaning, he is not, in fact, unattainable at all. He is VERY attainable, actually, and he should start working about that- but oh no, Houhua has his airpods in! He can't hear the Itachi's Eternal Devotion bus coming! It's gonna hit him!

Itachi is so confused, a little scared, kinda betrayed- but also, does he have any right to feel that way? When he's killed (almost) their entire clan? Does he have any right to feel betrayed about Houhua hiding his abilities from him when he would have used that exact knowledge to dispose of him? Should he not be grateful that Houhua didn't trust him because he doesn't deserve to be trusted because this way Houhua is alive?

Also, I need you to have this mental image as well- Itachi and Kisame on their Akatsuki missions, and in the middle of the night, Itachi will just be in the corner. Just. On his knees, in the corner, forehead to the wall. Just mentally repenting. Because fuck Houhua has only gotten more beautiful as time went on.

Itachi tried to kill him. Tried to ruin what they had. Tried to end it. And Houhua stopped him. Hoyhua didn't let him. And fuck, that's a mystery and Itachi feels so many things about it but one thing he definitely feels about it is- fuck, it was so hot. Like looking back on it, if Itachi does not remind himself that HE KILLED HIS ENTIRE FAMILY THE SAME NIGHT, thinking about how Huohua got away would get him so hard, so fast.

Like, imagine being Itachi. You've done this horrible thing, forced into a position where it was the only option you thought possible, and then you went through with it, even though you didn't want to- and then someone stopped you. Showed you it maybe wasn't the only way. Imagine the fear you'd feel about the fact that you were able to be convinced to kill the people you love, but then the utter relief that comes with the knowledge that there is someone out there that can keep you in check? Yes, Houhua didn't win against Itachi, but Itachi is about as mentally ill as they come. He failed in his mission to kill Houhua, which means Houhua won, which means Houhua, in a way, is stronger than Itachi, at least in his mind, and that means Houhua can stop him. If Itachi does something wrong, if he chooses wrong, Houhua can and will correct him.

Because Itachi might have been the clan heir, but he is such a follower. He follows orders, and he does not give them. He hates having that responsibility, that amount of power. He doesn't trust himself with it- look at what happened the last time he made a decision! Yeah, that decision was strongly influenced by Danzo, but Itachi doesn't give a crap, he has some severe survivors guilt/just actual guilt to deal with.

He hates having to make big decisions because he doesn't trust himself to make the right choice, and now Houhua is here to hold his leash. And that is frankly the hottest thing to ever happen.

Is this a healthy way to live? No. Is it about as healthy as you're gonna get in the military focused dystopia that is Naruto? Yeah, kinda. And again, doesn't really matter that Houhua didn't really win and can't actually fight off Itachi, he won in Itachi's mind, and that's enough for Itachi's monkey follower brain to be like, "welp, guess we listen to him no matter what now."

Also, I feel like I'm making out to be way worse than it would be. This is basically just- Itachi is just really into being told what to do and would like to not be in charge. Houhua would like to have literally any control over his life. And well, I'm just saying, he would have a lot of control over a lot of stuff if the Uchiha heir/Uchiha heir's brother was gladly at his beck and call...

And last but not least, Jun. Oh, Jun, Jun, Jun... the answer is simple! Houhua has two hands. Thruple. (Because you can pry Houhua/Itachi from my fucking cold dead hands.)

Also, I get what you mean with Itachi having control freak energy, but to me, at least, his control freak energy is very much "oh god, idk what I'm doing and I do not want to be here or be in charge, BUT I AM, SO I GUESS I NEED TO JUST KEEP TRACK OF EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE AT ALL TIMES BC IDK HOW ELSE TO DEAL WITH THIS HELP". His need for control comes from a place of complete panic and a distrust in his own ability to evaluate a situation, and if literally anyone else could take the wheel, he would be eternally grateful. But also, only someone with his undying trust and loyalty could ever be trusted with the wheel and he will bite anyone else that tries.

Basically, I feel like if he was eternally devoted to Houhua, and Houhua told him, nah, I knew about this, it's cool, Itachi would immediately go boneless with relaxation and just zoink out of the conversation. Trusted person has said everything is fine, so literally cannot comprehend a world where everything isn't fine.

Itachi is such a messed up little traumatized freak (affectionate). He has so many issues about control and making important decisions and following orders and trust and just anything to do with his own bodily autonomy. And really, most high-ranking/strong ninjas in this dystopia militaristic dictatorship are gonna have some complicated emotions about that stuff.

Anyway, Jun and Itachi can totally be cat fighting before Houhua comes along to set everything straight, tho. Let them fight over best boy, until best boy comes along and drags them both away by the scruff.

Can you tell I'm trying so fucking hard to manipulate Houhua/Itachi into working out? Because I am trying so hard to make them work out, and I want said hard work to be acknowledged.

That's all, though. It's 2 a.m., so I'm blaming anything that doesn't make sense, all spelling mistakes, and anything embarrassing on that. Because it's 2 a.m. and I'm tired. But still, take all of what I've said super seriously, and please join me in the newly formed Houhua/Itachi camp that I just erected.

(BTW, I have never read/seen svsss, nor read any of the fanfiction. I am purely running on my love of Naruto and context clues. Just so like you understand why Jun was mentioned dos briefly (I do not know who he is).)

Also also also also. Sasuke is going to stab everyone. With everyone being just his brother and his brother's loser friend. He is going to stab them for all the reasons. For killing his entire family, for apparently being forced into doing that, for faLLING IN LOVE WITH A MASS KIN SLAYER BEFORE SAID KIN SLAYING TURNED OUT TO BE FORCED. WHAT THE FUCK, HOUHUA-NII?

So I vaguely remember Huohua was supposed to be the girl Itachi had a crush on? Or maybe I'm mixing him up with someone else. Either way, I think Huohua should, in fact, be Itachi's gay awakening at like 7 years old, and that's how Itachi-nii gets his loser friend.

And he does this by being the way bigger loser because he follows Huohua around like a lost duck and just... helps him with stuff. He tries to buy him dango (Itacgi's favorite treat), and then when that doesn't work, he buys him tomatoes (Sasuke's favorite treat), and when that doesn't work, he does not ask what Huohua likes, instead he stalks him and tries to figure it out on his own. Which would be super creepy as an adult, but the kid is like 8, so it's just kinda cute. A little scary because he does actually have sneaking skills, but mostly cute because he takes notes on everything Huohua buys, but the notes are like "bought milk. Give him a cow?!?! Picked flower. Buy him flower garden!?!?"in crayon with little doodle hearts on the edges of the pages. Huohua, of course, sees him as a child who has a puppy crush and doesn't quite have the heart to tell him off, and so is just waiting for said puppy crush to die off on it's own.

And then the massacre happens.

And it doesn't make any sense!

Itachi was such a sweet kid. His favorite moves were all non-lethal take downs, he would always offer Huohua his last dango ball even though dango was his favorite, he would help small kids walk home or hunt down a KPF officer to help them if they were lost. He hated killing, Huohua once saw him cry because he found a very small snake and it didn't have any legs, because it was a snake, but that was apparently a tragedy because it "couldn't run and be free".

So Huohua has a lots of mixed emotions, a lot of suspicions from being an author himself, and a lot of... not quite pining, but he misses Itachi's puppy love gestures, as selfish as that feels. Misses being offered dango he didn't want, misses having a shadow that took meticulous yet adorably stupid notes in him, misses seeing him kneel down next to a child half their size and seeing someone far too young act so old and responsible.

And then.

And then they meet again.

And fuck, Itachi's gotten kinda hot.

Look, the kid was- well, a kid. So all his actions were of an adorable kid who didn't know the person he had a crush on was actually unattainable. But now - because Itachi still has that puppy crush that is starting to look less like a crush and something more like eternally burning love unique to the Uchiha - but now. Now Itachi is a fully grown man and he's kinda fucking hot.

He has wrinkles! Huohua is hundreds of years old, okay? Wrinkles are kinda hot to him. And he's- not nice, currently, what with being a missing-nin, but there are traces of his childhood friend Itachi in there still. He uses those non-lethal take downs he used to practice non-stop, he still tucks his chin into his chest when he tries to meet Huohua's eyes, he still-

He still looks at Huohua like he hung the moon and like Itachi torn it down against his own will.

And then he coughs blood and leaves.

Just leaves. Just like that. Shows off what is clearly supposed to be the illness that kills him, leaving Sasuke unsatisfied in his revenge and setting him down the road of villainy, sends one last look of utter longing at Huohua, and then he just fucking leaves.

Fuck that. Fuck this. Fuck the system, fuck the story, fuck it all.

Huohua is bringing Itachi home and he's going to cure him and make him eat dango and then Itachi is going to offer Huohua the last dango ball and Huohua is going to accept it for the first time because it's no longer stealing candy from a child, it's sharing a treat with someone he-

Someone he-

Someone he loves.

IM YELLING !!! I WAS LITERALLY JUST THINKING AB HOW ITACHI IS TEXTBOOK SHANG QUINGHUA'S TYPE TOO, HOUHUA IS SO FUCKED

You're right ! Houhua reincarnated as Izumi, who was supposed to be Itachi's love interest as a kid (before he went and fucking killed her along with everyone else, rip)

He does NOT know he is supposed to be a love interest (probably for the best tbh, I feel like it'd be easy for him to get weird and ethical about it if he had to think ab the implications of Itachi possibly being "forced" to like him due only to his character role) so any crush directed towards him will be a fucking surprise attack

Poor Houhua <3

I'm crying at tiny baby stalker Itachi, I think they should get to he eachothers first school friends. I think Houhua didn't have many friends as a kid. His natural Houhua-ness was cranked up a bit when he was younger due to just kid hormones and kid-wired mind fucking with his emotions and reactions even more than they might have as an adult. + as adult man trapped in a child's body, he does not how to convincingly act like a normal kid and this lead to him being labeled as a total weirdo by both his peers and some adults

Houhua himself never really cared, so what if he isnt invited to some 6 year olds birthday party! Hes a grown man! But every once in a while he'll get kinda melancholy about it— again, I think he's heavily affected by the physical state his little kid brain is at that age, so his reactions can be a bit,, different than he may have reacted when older

But like. Outcast weirdo Houhua and untouchable, unsociable clan heir Itachi ,, they are friends and no one really talks to either of them

(Once he gets older, I think Houhua gets to work at trying to network w people. He,, doesn't really ever make any friends, but who needs friends? Not him! He has a network of acquaintances who owe him a whole lot of things and favors, and that's better than any friendship, yknow!)

Also they're both the most mature in their age bracket and I think that might help Itachi identify with him a bit more

ANYWAYS

Itachi develops a sudden interest in learning how to make handpulled noodles bc he hears Houhua complaining about craving some,,

Houhua straight up does NOT notice his crush, it just isn't smthn he's capable of registering at the time bc in his eyes Itachi's a kid. Also bc Itachi is his only friend, he's seeing all his little kind acts and going "omg,, my bro is so sweet,, the bonds of friendship are so nice,,"

I think Houhua absoloutley has a thing for just being treated well and having him and his work be visibly valued, I think he gets incredibly touched by acts like that and Itachi treating him in any sort of special way is absoloutley at path directly into his heart.

I also love the idea of him missing Itachi after everything, missing the things he used to do for him, missing feeling valued (although Sasuke tries his best, it's not the same)

He also just... misses his friend.

Meanwhile, Itachi, who went toe to toe with Houhua during the massacre— ultimatley winning but only after a very surprising struggle, deals with not just the guilt of the massacre but the burning question of why and how Houhua had been lying to him about how strong he was. Lying to not just him, but to everyone.

Successfully.

Itachi himself never shares with anyone about the struggle, not to Konoha in his reports about the Akatsuki, nor to "Madara". But he lies awake at night and retraces the steps of their fight and he burns

There's suddenly this really complicated issue in his heart of like— he can no longer turn Houhua into this perfect martyr to feel guilty over like he can with Sasuke. (Though he still of course feels weighed down by the guilt of all he's done) because there's tangible proof that Houhua was not everything Itachi thought. There's layers now, there's a mystery, Itachi is no longer completely in the driving seat of the fucking car crash in progress that is their story like he is with Sasuke's.

Where as in the original canon, Izumi joins the faces of those Itachi killed, as a girl he can claim to have killed gentler than the others, a memory of this perfect, innocent girl Itachi betrayed, another tally on his list of crimes—

Houhua leaves Itachi, bogged down with guilt but also reeling with "what the fuck was that"

(A silent notification appears in Houhua's inbox, congratulating him on changing the narrative in such a creative way)

I think Itachi may have been able to tear himself away from his affection for Houhua (and allow his affection for Sasuke to win out overall) if only Houhua hadn't left him with such a powerful mystery to weigh him down

Good going Houhua!! Ur so good at this narrative thing <3

ANYWAYS THEIR REUNION HAPPENING AND HOUHUA GOING "oh no he's HOT" HAS ME IN STITCHES THO I NEED THAT ACTUALLY. THATS CANON NOW.

Also the detail of Houhua finding his wrinkles attractive is actually really cute, I love that!!

Sasuke will genuinley lose his fucking MIND if he catches even a hint of Houhua being attracted to Itachi, and not in a funny way. Houhua look him in the eyes. Look him in the eyes and tell him you find his big brother who tortured him and murdered their entire family hot. Say it to his face.

No but I think Houhua has major suspicions ab Itachi and at some point he'll have to share them with Sasuke. He literally has no reason not to and comes to be very fond of the kid, so. The only question is when— both when does he tell Sasuke and when does he really gain enough meat to his theory of "something isn't right here" ab the massacre to really start piecing together any sort of coherent thought other than suspicion

I hate u actually bc I'm suddenly SO sold on a Houhua and Itachi romance of some kind, this is so compelling and interesting to me. But also Mobei Jun is wandering around somewhere as Jun and Houhua is going to run into him eventually and have to face his own relationship drama

Itachi pulling his fucking hair out out of confusion when Houhua manifests his mangekyou for this fucking random Kiri missing nin he literally only JUST met

(I don't think Itachi likes being left in the dark when it comes to things he cares ab very much, definite control freak energy. Houhua is driving him insane)

I think that Itachi and Jun may have gotten along actually, but Itachi catches wind of Houhua having a seemingly giant fucking crush on him and is suddenly filled with inexplicable rage, actually

Let them have actually worked together previously or smthn, that'd be funny. They worked together a couple times and had a good rapport— maybe akatsuki actually wants or wanted to recruit him? That could actually be kinda fun

Oh fuck that could also totally parallel svsss bc there's no way that Jun would want to join them, busy with his own shit of wanting to take over Kiri. But just like with Deidara, they can strong arm him into joining under threat of death just like Bingghe did to MBJ !!

I love parallels

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daz4i · 1 year ago

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how many times do we gotta go over it man. thought crime isn't real. it's okay to feel whatever you're feeling. don't let anyone make you feel guilty for having some reflex reaction to stimuli in a way that is out of your control. the question isn't what you think or how you feel, but what you do. do you act upon those thoughts? do you harm others bc of your feelings? that's where you draw the line. keep it in your brain. vent it out in some personal way like a journal or a password locked blog. it's okay i promise

#saw a post abt sex repulsion that i mostly agreed with #until op said being disgusted by like. other people having sex is wrong #and like. i agree that if this is your knee jerk reaction you might need to look into it #but sometimes. it really is just disgust of the idea. like it's none of my business but i still find it unpleasant to see or think about #and as someone who feels guilty constantly abt everything. this is actually smth i don't feel guilty over #bc it's just an emotion and like i can't really help it. but also. I'm not hurting anyone by cringing on the inside #i don't think guilting people for feeling a negative emotion is gonna make them unlearn it i think you're just gonna make them feel awful -#- over a very normal human experience (aka. emotions). all this would lead to is ppl hating themselves for smth they can't help #it's not that deep i just got very mad at that phrasing lol esp bc it was aimed at teenagers #a group that is way more vulnerable to this sort of shit in part due to already experiencing emotions more intensely #tldr: don't do that shit man. encourage positive behavior not thought policing

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goldkirk · 10 months ago

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My five happy things for the day

• paper that has a good feeling texture

• things not feeling like an emergency EVERY second of the day, only part of the time

• the fact that these cheapo stamp ink pads from Walmart a few years ago somehow still have a bit of functioning ink not dried out?

• I’m able to track and retain conversations for longer periods of time again, I’m finally finally finally feeling some progress

• putting on a warm hoodie or coat when feeling chilled

#fivethingsaday #I still can’t believe people LIKE me!! ?! ?! ?! ?!#I’ve accidentally wound up dumbfounded with a delightful number of friends #like. wait. I thought you guys were playing a very long trap or were only liking me because of obligation or worth vs hassle ratio.#I thought I was just enjoying it before it vanished! but yowza!!!#apparently I DID get the chance for it to be real #and I am in the middle of living an adult life I didn’t think I’d see!!!#so anyway holy shit I apparently am not secretly a poison to people #these cool people I’ve been so admiring of and wished I could really have a life with someone like them as a friend #BITCH I DO IT IS ME #what the FUCK.#anyway I’ve got to go keep trying to wrangle my very uncooperative knee #and marvel at the slowly-dawning reality of being liked actually not just kept around #god grade school age social hierarchy lessons sure get roots down in deep #I’m so pleased as punch and totally in skeptical disbelief. I’m also delighted and horrifically embarrassed and feeling stupid and feeling #unbearably grateful and feeling quite particularly like I’m in the Truman show and also won the lottery #I’m going to do a lot of STICKING WITH IMPORTANT ROUTINES FOR MY WELL-BEING about it #add to journal

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btsbs · 3 months ago

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#yoongi getting busted for scooting under the influence #was not on my bingo card #the difference in crisis management #with a US celebrity and a bts member is stark #maybe the coverage and reaction was different in korea but #for the celebrity to publish the update themselves #before news and gossip sites can even get to it #the IMMEDIATE and all encompassing acceptance of guilt and apology issuance #here you generally only get that as part of a plea deal #was he actually arrested though?#all these thoughts and reactions #coming from zero knowledge of how this stuff works in korea #i have so many questions though #like how drunk really was he #and how was there randomly a cop right there by his house #not condoning his behavior but #i feel for him #having to break his social media silence #to admit this embarrassing mistake #having to wear it SO publicly #especially as someone who has been put on this pedestal of perfection for a decade #the overall punishment and social impact doesn’t totally seem justified #like he’s on his knees over a tipsy scooter ride #there are a lot of celebrities with flourishing careers who have done….way worse #hope both he and the world can afford him a little grace with this #we’re all humans who make poor judgement calls sometimes #a suga SUI who could have imagined #marketing thoughts #also reserve the right to change these opinions based on additional info being learned

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bibleofficial · 4 months ago

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i dream of being able to go get a couples massage but instead of w the love of my life it’s w my colon & she finally gets what the FUCK has been WRONG w her WORKED out 😭🙄

#stream #GET A GRIP #I HATE BEING ALIVE #i need to make a new tag where it’s literally just posts of my pussy causing my suffering #shitter nation #that’s it #that’s the one #swag #i say swag so innocuously that my chinese flatmate will just say it too & it makes me laugh like u know when someone has like an affirmation #& start saying it it’s that except i feel bad kind of bc the way i use it is literally butchering the word #me sitting on the bus & it stops: swag #it’s just so fucking funny ALSKLAKSLAKSLAKSLAKALAKSLA like I CANT HELP IT IM CONSTANTLY SAYING IT MY BROTHER GOT ME STARTED DOING IT LIKE #THIS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#anyway #my family got hit by the hurricane yesterday & thank fucking GOD that PINE FELL IN THE OPPOSITE DIECTION bc YALL #literally it would’ve taken out the bedrooms #like the whole root system has TIPPED #but do we know why ? YES WE FUCKING DO & ITS BC FATHER KEPT CUTTING DOWN ALL THE BRANCHES bc ‘it’ll damage the roof!’ which i mean in this #case … FAIR …. BUT ALSO IN THIS CASE IT WAS SOOO TOP HEAVY #i mean like they always made ME afraid bc u can see them sway but i just thought ‘like a sailboat u need a mountain of a wave to tip’ &#hurricanes ? are the mountain … BUT SHE LASTED DURING ALL THE OTHERS #LITERALLY ALL OF THE OTHERS like this tree is older than the house & the house is OLD [FOR AMERICA] it was built in the late 70s/early 80s #like she took HARVEY & IKE FINE #which i was there during but i worry abt them bc of the lack of cell service wifi & power but i know its over so its just clean up now #sucks to be my brother bc my father sent pics of him w an axe having to cut the tipped tree from the road lmfao #wait why is he using an axe we literally have a chainsaw #probably bc the tree’s wet & it’ll fuck up the chain & it has to be out of the road bc that’s where it landed btw lmfao it was house or road #& it’s in the road thank FUCK - NO DAMAGE TO ANY CARS literally we were sooooooo LUCKY #ANYWAY i’m only on a few hours of sleep & tired & my knee kills bc it actually got damaged during the omar assault so ive a new knee brace #swag … :( im just so tired. i’m so over constantly feeling like im being watched 24/7 it has genueinly put so much stress on me

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captain-lovelace · 1 year ago

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Having thought about it for a couple of days I think the disproportionate degree of uproar about egg jokes being invasive or whatever seems overwhelmingly like a case of people interpreting trans women in the worst possible way

#And I think for a number of transmascs I’ve seen similar reactions to my initial knee-jerk one #Which was along the lines of ‘this is yet another sign that if I fail to perform masculinity well enough I will be misgendered’#And like. I GET why that’s scary and painful as a thought especially given the general background radiation of being transmasc #Dear lord do I get it. The idea that even if you pass if you exhibit one behavior wrong someone’s *still* going to misgender you sucks #But #The thing is. 1. That scenario where it’s you is entirely hypothetical. The joke is not being directed at any of us #2. The primary perpetuators of ‘if you do [x] you’re actually Fake Trans’ are not random trans women making egg jokes PLEASE #At some point you are reacting to something internal and you are using it as a bludgeon against trans women and the fact that this has #Been going on SO LONG over something that #Let’s be honest here #Is entirely inconsequential…#Well to call a spade a spade it’s transmisogynistic

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songs-ofa-dyingbird · 1 month ago

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I feel really weird and it’s like- I’m trying to figure out if I’m sick, if I ate too much or too little, if it’s anxiety, Mayhaps I’m just convincing myself I feel shitty because I want an excuse to be lazy- maybe I’m legit sick frfr, maybe I need to eat lunch, maybe I need to skip lunch, maybe I drank too much coffee??????

#why are bodies weird and bad and not okay #I do not approve #F- from Robin #ugh this happens way to often #I’ve decided that everything ever I have ever experienced is actually placebo #I’m deeply afraid that everything I have ever thought or felt was just me convincing myself to think and feel it #I don’t actually have arthritis the knee pain is all in my head #i feel super tired #and kinda chills #I think my hands are shaky????? but it’s hard to tell #fun fact about me I can’t tell when things are swollen #like my arthritis would’ve been diagnosed way sooner if I had told anyone how swollen my knees were #but I literally couldn’t tell #once my dog came inside after getting into a fight with a wasp nest #and I didn’t realize anything was wrong until someone else pointed it out to me #I literally can’t tell when things are swollen #I feel kinda woozy in my head #I think I’m just tired #probably too much coffee #number one tummy ache survivor tho #my tummy hurts and I’m being very brave about it #robin rambles

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nymph1e · 11 months ago

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On Discomfort and Morality

My father finds gay men uncomfortable.

He's told me before that it's like a knee-jerk for him. Something he doesn't consciously control. He sees two men behaving romantically, and his body reacts with mild discomfort.

In the 1960s, when he was in high school, most of the boys in his form thought he was gay on the simple fact that he wasn't homophobic. He wouldn't participate in insulting queer people, he didn't care if someone was gay, he wouldn't have a problem hanging out with gay people. So people thought he was gay. That's how prevalent homophobia was in his formative years.

When I was 10, my dad told me very seriously that Holmes and Watson were gay. That it was obvious from the literature and the time period that they were meant to be a gay couple. When I was 14 and I came out to my parents as bi, when my mum was upset my dad ripped into her for it. Told her that she was being stupid, that it was my life to live how I wanted to and that she needed to get over herself.

My dad formed my views on censorship: that being that it was completely ridiculous and thoroughly evil. He didn't believe in censorship of any kind. If I asked him a question about sex, he answered it honestly. When I was 12 and I asked him about homosexuality, still young and uncertain, he told me that there was nothing wrong with it. That it was just how some people were. That there was likely an evolutionary reason for it. And that for some people it was uncomfortable on an instinctual level.

He taught me that just because you're uncomfortable with something, doesn't make it wrong. He also taught me that most people don't understand this.

I see a lot of this on the internet as of the last few years. The anti shipping movement, the terf movement, the anti ace movement. It all stems from discomfort that people have crossed wires into believing means wrong. Really every -ism and -phobia out there stems from this same fundamental aspect of humanity.

The next time you see something and you automatically think it's disgusting, or wrong, or immoral, I invite you to ask yourself: is this actually wrong or does this just make me uncomfortable?

#shipping discourse #anti censorship #anti terf #my mum isn't homophobic #she was upset because she thought it meant i couldnt have children or a family #and this is something important to her #she was also not upset around me but to my dad in private

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goxjo · 2 months ago

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! 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

ALPHA! GOJO x F OMEGA! READER

+ synopsis. you live in a world where omega and alpha qualities are medically treated at birth to become dormant later in life. present day, only betas & pseudo-betas exist, pheromones & its effects are left in the distant past, and heats & ruts are reduced to monthly cycles of being slightly hornier than normal, nothing more.

so, what happens when a curse you encounter induces a heat in you far worse than anything recorded in modern times?

+ alternatively. in which even a special grade sorcerer isn’t immune to the curse-induced heat of an omega — you, the partner he's pined for over the course of your entire friendship — forcing you and him to go back to your primal roots.

+ cw. forced A/B/O dynamics, lovesick! gojo, slight! geto x reader, sorcerer! reader, dubcon (technically sex pollen), reader is born an omega, gojo and geto are born alphas, gojo's infinity can't block scent for fic purposes, geto doesn’t turn au, use of restraints, mating call, mutual pining, it gets playful / lighthearted in the middle, implied 'medical' use of sex toys, dirty thoughts, lordosis, petnames (angel, love), pussy job, constant pov switches towards the end, cunnilingus, ass fingering, piv, cervix kisses, confessions, shared orgasm, creampie, knotting, no beta bye, 3.5k+ words, MDNI

+ masterlists. general ┆ jujutsu kaisen ┆ collab

♥︎ aki’s note. big thank you to raven (@raven-cincaide) for sprinting with me ♡ ++ this very late fic is part of my into the omegaverse collab ♡ please show some love to everybody’s amazing works when you can!

He came as soon as he heard. Plagued by his racing thoughts, Satoru stands still, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches you from behind the glass window. Though he appears to be calm, seeing you like this is torture.

“How long has she been in there?” Suguru puts his hands in his pockets, taking the spot next to Satoru.

“Too long,” he breathes. And it’s only been half a day. His 6 eyes have been agonizingly locked on your form the entire time, piercing blue eyes peering through the glass and into your poor disturbed soul. You’ve been crying non stop ever since they found you. Eyes glossy, pupils blasted, spewing incoherent words, skin damp and hot.

They needed to restrain your arms and legs to be able to perform tests on you, but that didn’t stop you from crossing your knees, relying on friction to rub your pussy as best as you can. All this, as your body wriggles beneath the harsh clinic lights. You’ve gone absolutely feral. Your cries are pitched an octave higher than what Satoru’s used to. And as much as he doesn’t want to believe it, it’s as if… “It’s as if she’s calling out to someone.”

“To you, you mean?” Suguru scoffs.

Paper seals secure the walls of your room. Remnants of the curse linger around your body and because of that, they’ve deemed it safer to assume only born-betas are allowed direct contact. For now, at least. Shoko says they don’t know if there are aftereffects — meaning, if exposure to a victim could also trigger a rut in an alpha. And now they’re dealing with pheromones, not just cursed energy, so infinity is out of the question. That means Shoko gets to stay with you, and the two born-alphas are to stay on this side until further notice.

Satoru hates it – being separated from you by a wall like this. Not like you weren’t already normally separated by one, considering your room in the dorms is right next to his. But he particularly hates how this renders him unable to barge in on you any time he wants.

Right now, he wants to annoy you. He wants to poke fun at you. He wants to pull your strings because he likes it when you get fake-mad. You’re cute when you do that. Plus, he uses it to his advantage knowing you can never actually stay mad at him for too long — a weakness the two of you share.

“Heard the report got it all wrong.” Suguru pats Satoru’s back. “Special grade 1, was it? Quite the leap from semi-grade 1.” Suguru shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. He’s never seen his best friend so distraught. But Suguru reassures him, telling him not to worry and reminding him of the fact that, at the very least, “She’s alive and kicking. Well, kicking too hard for that matter. Those knots are gonna bruise.”

“She should’ve called me. Fucking idiot.” Satoru clicks his tongue.

They have brought in experts — historians, even. They have tried every omega medicine known to man. Emergency suppressants that were once obsolete are concocted that same day. Everything should’ve shown immediate effects. And yet, it’s almost laughable how it all seemed like they were only giving you placebo meds, forcing you to down so many in so little time. Since nothing has worked, Shoko sent them away.

What’s worse is, the curse is exorcised. And in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, killing a curse usually takes all its enchantments with it. So, if the curse is dead and you’re still experiencing the worst heat known to man, they could damn well consider your revert permanent if they don’t do something about it quickly.

The two men jolt back upon smelling a very pronounced aroma of burnt cinnamon on Shoko who’s left the room for the first time in the last 6 hours. Her hair is slightly disheveled, slightly damp from sweat. And the circles around her eyes have grown visibly darker and heavier.

“Can’t imagine our forefathers going nuts over that stench.” Suguru lightens the mood, fanning his hand in front of his face. He blinks his tears dry as a result of inhaling a whiff of the strong odor.

“It’s not that bad.” Satoru scrunches his nose as he’s suddenly taken aback, though he’s not particularly repulsed by the scent. If anything, he’s immediately convinced it’s something he doesn’t mind living with. “Plus, I heard it’s slightly different for every omega.”

“Finally, some fresh fucking air,” Shoko murmurs as she leans on the glass, head thrown back as she lights up a cigarette. Apparently, she hasn’t had one since they brought you in. “Welp, tried everything. Even left her alone with toys to do—”

“Herself?” Suguru teases.

Satoru scratches his throat. “Did it- uhm… did it help?”

“Not one bit.”

“Maybe you… didn’t give her enough time?” Satoru nonchalantly suggests, pouting as he subconsciously takes notes for himself if he ever gets presented with the opportunity.

“I let her at it for an hour.” Shoko huffs out smoke in the direction opposite to the two men. “I even gave her… options, you know.”

Satoru mentally kicks himself as his thoughts run wild. He can still see the tip of the pink silicone popping out of one of the trays, girth not so different from his. He hates Shoko for doing a shitty job at concealing it because blood rushes to his cock just by looking at that thing, knowing it had gone inside you. He thinks about what other toys Shoko had you use — thinks about which one was able to make you cum the fastest, which one was your favorite?

Fuck. Now, he has to keep adjusting his stance, marching in place like a damn soldier till he manages to get his half-hard cock into a better position in his pants. Using his hands then and there is not an option for obvious reasons.

“Satoru.” Shoko’s tone becomes more serious. “You can drag this longer than it needs to be. But you know there’s only one surefire tried-and-tested-literally-by-millions-way to cure a heat.” She takes a long puff, blowing smoke in between words, embers flickering on the end of her half-done stick. “You up for it?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Of course he is.

Suguru and Shoko shoot each other knowing glances, the former raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘watch this’. “Satoru, If you’re not gonna do it, I wi—”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Satoru spits, not letting his best friend finish his sentence. The two quickly exchange low fives, chuckling at the expense of their lovesick friend. Satoru turns to Shoko, paying no mind to his friends so blatantly enjoying themselves in the middle of a crisis. “You’re sure you’ve done everything you can?”

“Everything I can, yes. You’ve exhausted all the favors you can ask of me, it’s high time you deal with your own problems.” Shoko prods two fingers onto Satoru’s chest.

“Want her to want it,” Satoru speaks softly.

“Are you blind? Did your fucking 6 eyes stop working?” Shoko looks at Satoru, puzzled, as if she wonders why Satoru isn’t seeing what she’s seeing. “Oh, I’m pretty sure she wants it bad.”

“Want her to want me.”

Shoko rolls her eyes and disposes of her cigarette though it’s a couple more puffs away from when she usually stops. She’s at her limit. “Wait here.”

Trying to prove a point, she goes to the supply room and comes back with two handkerchiefs — a white one and a blue one. She then pats the white one with the sweat off of Satoru’s nape, and the other with Suguru’s. “Pray with me, boys. One of you’s gonna have to return to their roots.” She cracks her neck, preparing to head back in.

The sound of your cries increase and decrease in volume when Shoko opens and closes the door behind her.

“Shoko, Shoko, please! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it—”

Shoko waves the blue handkerchief above your head, grabbing your attention for only a few seconds till you’re back to screaming in agony. She can almost hear Suguru scoffing on the other side. She then takes out the white cloth with Satoru’s scent, and like a moth to a flame, you’re instantly drawn to it. Your breaths have finally steadied. You take quick bouts of whiffs, head craning every which way she drags the piece of cloth.

She leaves you with the handkerchief after letting your arms and legs loose, allowing you to curl up in a ball as you desperately inhale Satoru’s scent. It’s the first thing that has calmed you in hours. Nonetheless, this relief is temporary. Pretty soon you’ll be needing something stronger. Something more potent. Something in its rawest form.

“S-satoru,” you breathe through the handkerchief, staring at the two-way mirror like a faint prayer to the god you know is there. “Shoko, please get me Satoru.” Your words are clear as day, and that’s the first coherent thing you’ve said all day.

Shoko’s eyes dart to where she’s sure Satoru stands. “Do you see it now?” she mouths.

Satoru’s jaw stiffens, stomach now a mangled mess of anticipation and guilt. On the one hand, he’s relieved. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if you’d reacted the same way to Suguru’s scent. On the other hand, he knows what’s going to happen now. Not like he didn’t see this coming.

…

Though she didn’t have to, Shoko chose to make a nest of Satoru’s clothes for you in his own bed. “Thought I’d at least make the effort to help make it romantic, no?”

Except nothing about this is romantic. Jujutsu dorm walls thankfully aren’t thin, but thin enough for him to hear your cries from behind his door.

Satoru takes a second to collect himself, getting square with the fact that this isn’t how he wanted your first time to go. He can smell you from where he stands, forcibly reminding him for every second he delays that you’re in there, waiting for him.

He’s played your first time over and over in his head as he fucked his fist — almost every morning in the shower, once or twice in your room when you were out on a mission, and many, many times in the very bed you’re nestled now. Out of the hundreds of scenarios he’s made up of him making love to you in his head, he’s never once pictured this.

His friends have pestered him about this for so long, urging him to take the first step or else Suguru — and on some occasions, Shoko — won’t hesitate to whisk you off your feet. But he tells them he has his reasons for constantly holding off. He says it’s because you’re perfect for him, and so he wanted your first to be perfect — plain and simple. He says it so matter-of-factly, too. But now, to hell with the perfect scenario because as it turns out, it’s mother nature herself who decides to give him one crazy hell of a push to make a move.

Satoru enters his room. Greeted with the raw and unbound fragrance of your heat, his heart pounds in his chest. He coos upon seeing you hugging his pillow, all plump and ready for him. Suddenly, it registers in his head that he’s seeing you naked for the first time, lying in his bed. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says more to himself, trying to convince himself that this is real — that you’re real.

“‘M sorry, it hurts— hurts so bad, Satoru. ‘M sorry!” He’s sorry it has to be like this, too. But he’s not so sorry that you’d asked for him.

With dried up tears along your cheeks, and fresh ones in your eyes, your cried out voice croaks, “Satoru, help me please. I need you.” You roll on your belly, propping your forearms as you bury your face in his scent, whining into his pillow, back arching + ass perked up, as you shamelessly stroke your pussy to his face. “N-need you now, please, please, please?”

Fuck.

Even now, it melts his heart seeing you so full of want.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’m here aren’t I?”

Satoru doesn’t miss the way your hand grips the sheets as you watch him discard his clothes. He sees the absolute delight in your face, the flexing of your belly, the further bend of your back, the quicker strokes of your fingers around your clit. But it’s the sight of your nectar dripping out of you that finally makes him break.

With how hard he is and how much he wants to devour you like crazy, he could easily be mistaken for an alpha in a rut. He swears his chemical makeup has nothing to do with it. He just wants you that bad.

Suddenly, the space between you and him doesn’t exist. You moan out loud just by being touched by him. He engulfs you in his arms forcing you to sit up, hot skin against even hotter skin, your back pressed flush against his torso as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. And your slick — god, your honeyed slick — begins to coat his hard cock speared between your legs and along your puffy folds.

Fuck.

“Sweet angel.” His eyes roll back as he takes in all of your scent.

His cock twitches between your legs, pre-cum starting to drip off his tip. He feels a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach as soon as he gets into contact with your slick. Your touch is so fucking electric. One hand wraps around your stomach while the other reaches for your breast, cupping and kneading the soft flesh, feeling your thuds of a heartbeat beneath his palm. You smell so fucking good upclose, your scent keeps hooking and hooking him in, and taking care of you is all he cares about. That's all that matters. He’s holding you now and yet he’s unable to satiate this mad need to be closer to you. He needs to be closer. He needs to make love to you. Needs to be in you—

“S-Satoru.” You guide the hand on your breast, intertwining with his fingers, pressing harder, rougher, against your skin. “You feel so good, Satoru. Please move. N-need more.”

Satoru releases a deep groan in your ear when you bring your knees together, locking his cock between your legs as you begin to grind your pussy on his erection, nectar lubing your every sway.

“E-easy, eaaasy,” Satoru’s voice is low and breathy. He hisses with every roll of your hips, breath hitching as your pussy drags his foreskin back and forth, balls kissing the back of your thighs. Mind hazy with want, he presses his cheek on yours, planting open mouthed and sloppy kisses on the side of your face.

“Not so fast!” Satoru holds your hips in place when you start to pick up the pace, making you whine, “Wha–”

“Too fast, I’m sorry.” Satoru trails apologetic kisses along your jaw. “Not there- don’t want to cum there.”

He apologizes as a tinge of guilt prickles his throat seeing you so utterly vulnerable. Your eyes plead for him to fill you then and there but he needs this moment to last as long as possible, even if it means prolonging your agony.

“S-Satoru, can’t wait any longer!” You try to move your hips but they’re locked in place.

“No.” He says, firmly, and it hurts to tell you that. “Not yet.” Tears well up in your eyes as your chest heaved at the height of your confusion. Your mouth opens, trying to find words, but before you get to complain, he gives you a soft, chaste kiss — your very first one, he realizes — and tells you, “Get down for me.”

And with tears in your eyes, you oblige. He supposes this is the work of the reemergence of your makeup and raging hormones, making you so pliant and submissive, you’re willing to do his bidding even when you’re on the verge of insanity — when, before this, you always had a stubbornness in you he’d always been fond of. But then again, at this very moment, you’re desperate. And you’re desperate for him.

“Satoru, I don’t know what you’re up to b-but please, don’t take long- oh!” Your protests are quickly replaced with cries as you feel a soft, wet muscle slide across your folds. He’s always had that habit of not letting you finish. To think it’s something he takes to bed with him makes your stomach coil. “Fuck!”

Hot breath fans your folds as he splits your slit open with his tongue, and all you can do is shudder in place, wallowing in the extreme pleasure that dozens of toys weren’t able to give you. You’re practically leaking on his face, honey dripping down his chin, the tip of his nose pressing into your ass.

His tongue squelches with every lick, twisting your core in knots with every line drawn. And then it’s as if Satoru’s lips are sealed around your clit, puckering and sucking on the sensitive bud.

“Satoru, oh god. ‘Toru, so good, ‘s so fucking good~” Your eyebrows furrow, lips pursing as he relentlessly flicks his tongue on your clit.

“Oh!” You scream when a honeyed digit enters your ass, thumb hooking and pressing hard against your g-spot, all while his tongue remains fixated on your clit. “Fuck- mmm!”

You can’t help but mewl and cuss into your first orgasm — the first one he granted you, that is — wave of pleasure washing across your body as he eats out your high. And while it’s a sensation that gives you a sense of satisfaction, you’re left wanting more. You’re left needing more.

“Please fill me- can’t wait any longer- please, alpha~”

Oh, now you’ve done it.

“Sorry, love.” Satoru pulls you back into his chest and cups your cheek, making you look over your shoulder and into his face. “Neither can I.”

“Sato- Oh!” Gagged by the feeling of friction in your aching walls, the very first one you had welcomed since your heat, you’re at a loss for words when his cock enters you, bottoming out straight away. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ and he instinctively closes the gap, savoring your mouth, and with every click and swirl of your tongues, he thinks you are probably the softest, most delicate thing he’s ever tasted.

He knows he’s screwed, tasting you for the first time, knowing he’ll never want anything other than you, your lips, your pussy, this feeling ever again.

You feel as if every pump of his cock scratches that stubborn itch that’s spread across your pussy since your heat. And every satisfying ram of his hips kisses your cervix, bringing you closer and closer to your high, as if this — his cock, and the feeling of his body rocking your own — has been what’s missing in your life.

“Scream for me, angel,” Satoru grumbles against your ear as he feels himself nearing his own climax. Suddenly, his mouth is back on yours, kissing you, with you purring against his lips as he fucks you through your shared high.

“I–” When his pace comes to a full stop, you know what’s about to come. And he doesn’t know what to say. Shoko’s already briefed him on what’ll happen to an alpha who cums in an omega in heat, not that he doesn’t know what a knot is. He just doesn’t know what to expect. Still, he wants you to take it. Even now, he wants you to want it. But he studies that curious look on your face, and as he scrambles for words, it seems it’s your turn to finally shut him up.

“I love you, Satoru.”

Satoru chuckles. More to himself.

“I love you, too.” Satoru, with breaths uneven, relaxes his forehead against yours. Satoru steadies himself, and pretty soon, you collapse in his arms as his knot locks in your core.

...

"Hey," Satoru breaks the silence. "You know... taking my knot like that means you practically asked me to marry you."

"Shut up."

—

Shoko alternates between looking at you and flipping the pages of the report in her clipboard. It seems that you’re technically back to normal but she’s got that look in her face as if a couple of words are stuck behind her throat.

“It’s fine. Hit me with it,” you prompt. “What is it?”

“Well, you’re now a full-blown omega is what it is,” Shoko says without an ounce of concern in her voice. “But seeing as you’ve got… help now,” Shoko’s eyes dart to Satoru who’s standing in the corner, “there’s really not much to do about it.”

“Is that so?” You chuckle at the playful tension between Satoru and Shoko.

“You’re ‘help’, by the way,” Shoko addresses Satoru.

“A big one, too,” he adds.

“Keep it in your pants.” Shoko puts her clipboard aside and scratches her temple. “Still, it’s insane that this is what finally brought you two together.”

Shoko’s words put a longing, knowing smile to your face. "This silly guy waited too long."

“Hey, if that’s what it took. Who am I to complain?” Satoru shrugs, ego fluffed by the thought that you’re finally his. And the fact that he and you are the only active alpha and omega in the world? How special is that?

pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎

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mrsbarnesblog · 30 days ago

Text

just us

masterlist

summary: a situation between pogues and kooks at the beach made Rafe rethink his priorities

word count: 1.8k.

warnings: season 4 spoilers, established relationship, mention of the dead turtle, that hoe Ruthie, protective Rafe

a/n: i'm obsessed with season 4, y'all. absolutely in love with everything that's going on and especially with Rafe being in a better place with a girl that he actually likes 🥹 this scene at the beach with turtles just made me sob, so I really need someone to drag that bitch by her hair. sorry not sorry.

Your heart was beating with adrenaline from the scene that just happened at the beach, with Topper’s girlfriend almost running over the pogues and being the usual insane bitch that she was. Rafe stood beside you, silent but shaking his buzzed head in disapproval.

Kie was standing on her knees on the sand, in shock, with juice still dripping down her face and hair. She brushed off the help of her friends, instead standing and picking something up from the ground, without hesitation, going towards the group of people around you. They seemed absolutely delighted by the whole situation, laughing, fist bumping each other, and making you want to punch every single one of them in the face.

You didn’t even want to be here in the first place, not with a bunch of people with whom you shared mutual hatred towards each other. Rafe was your only connection with them, and it seemed like even for him it was a bit too much. A fun day at a beach with a little surfing competition, where even Topper and JJ seemed to have some fun together, took the wrong turn way too quickly.

“Look what you did! Is this okay?” Kie stopped in front of Ruthie, reaching out her hand to show something that you weren’t able to see, but by the look on her face it was obviously serious to her. “There was a turtle hatch, you idiots! You drove right over it!” Your stomach twisted at the realization, and you took a step closer to see it yourself.

“Oh my God.” You whispered, catching a glimpse of a tiny dead turtle with a crushed shell laying in the palm of her hand. So little and harmless that the picture of it brought tears to your eyes.

“Don’t look, baby.” Rafe’s deep voice mumbled near your ear, with a warm hand sprawled across your back to try to distract you, but you shook your head, unable to take your eyes off it.

“All right, but it was only one.” Ruthie said with her usual attitude, nonchalantly pointing to the rest of the turtles that, luckily, were perfectly fine. Your mouth opened in disbelief, and you looked at Rafe to see him uncomfortably rubbing the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry, Kie…” You whispered to her, stepping further away from the kooks, eyes drifting again to the dead animal in her hand. No matter how hard you tried to fit in with Rafe and his friends, you could never be one of them if it meant to be a bunch of pompous and cruel rich kids. You thought that, maybe it was time for you to finally admit that.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” She briefly looked at you, because despite not being friends, there never were any arguments between you and the rest of the pogues, always keeping cool and friendly with each other. “There’s something wrong with you, people.” Kiara looked back at the kooks with disgust written all over her face.

“I’m leaving, Rafe.” Barely holding back your tears, you looked back at your boyfriend, before picking up your beach bag from the sand and turning around. “I’m sorry again for them, Kie.”

“No, wait, Y/N.” He pushed through the crowd, wide-eyed, quickly approaching you and grasping your wrist. “This is not—“

“I don’t want to be here. I didn’t sign up to hang out with your friends when I started dating you, okay?” You groaned in frustration, attempting to move, but Rafe stopped you. “I don’t even know why we’re here, why you are here, when you clearly don’t enjoy it anymore.”

“Listen, this is not so easy, okay?” He rolled his eyes, but you knew it was not fully directed at you; Rafe was already struggling with trusting those around him, and the fact that you slowly but steadily made him reconsider his current surroundings did not help.

“You are not like them, they are not your friends, don’t you understand it?” The pure desperation was speaking in you, searching for the answers in his eyes. You overheard some people laughing at you, as they were too confident that Rafe would never listen to someone like you, someone from the cut, not even realizing the war that was currently going on in his head.

He was silent, thinking, making his already overwhelmed mind go hundred miles per hour to figure something out, because you were right. The more time had passed, the more the two of you were together, the less Rafe found himself enjoying the presence of his old friends, the less he wanted to do that childish bullshit.

“This dumb fucking bitch almost ran over people and killed an innocent animal because her big ego got hurt, do you understand?! So I’m leaving. Alone or with you.” You almost whispered the last part to him, too scared that he'd not choose you. At the end of the day, you were a pogue, and no matter how much you tried, you would never be good enough for Rafe.

“What did you just call me?” Ruthie arched a brow, now shooting daggers at you.

“I called you a dumb fucking bitch, didn’t you hear me?” You spat, finally having a good enough reason to tell the truth right in her face. “Or are you too stupid to get that through your thick scull?”

“That’s rich, coming for a pogue. It’s just a cycle of life. And if you, losers, are so offended by that, it’s not my problem.”

“A cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck is not a cycle of life.” Kiara pushed Ruthie with her hand, and it nearly turned into a fight, with JJ standing by his girlfriend's side. You turned away from them, too frustrated and drained to bother listening to the rest of the conversation, your gaze shifting to Rafe, who still held your hand.

“I want to leave. Stay here if you want to, I don’t care. I’m done with them, Rafe.” Your teary eyes met his blue ones, and he shook his head, pulling you closer with your forearms. The mere thought of you leaving him, angry and upset, triggered a whirlwind of panic within him.

“Hey, no, I’m not staying, okay?” Rafe's hands, now much gentler and delicate, touched your cheeks, wiping away a few tears that you could not keep back. Rafe had never been too comfortable with the display of emotions, and he was pretty sure that it was the first time he had actually seen you cry. And he knew how much you had always carried for animals, how you petted every stray cat or a dog on the street, and how you hated any form of violence against them.

The pulsating and aching feeling in his chest at the sight of your tears made him want to drop everything, or rather, eliminate everyone who had upset you, and just hold you in his arms.

“Aw, look at you.” You heard that annoying voice behind you back again, pulling you out of the bubble in which you fell, and turning around, you saw that Kie and JJ were no longer there. Your eyes instantly rolled back as Ruthie looked at you with her usual fake sympathy, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go back to your side of the island, you’re not one of us. Don’t even know why Rafe bothers to bring you here when you’re just another dirty toy to—“

Rafe left your side before she could finish her sentence, looming over her with the most furious expression you had ever seen on his face. Everyone and everything seemed to fall silent for a moment, and you held your breath, unsure what he would do. “Wanna say some bullshit about her? Try to do it right in my face and see what happens.”

“You’re not seriously protecting the pogue. She’s not on our side.” Her smile faded, her eyes now nervously looking between Rafe and Topper, who was standing behind her back.

“C’mon, Rafe…” He started, but quickly shut his mouth as soon as Rafe turned his head towards him with a silent threat. You felt your heartbeat quickening as the atmosphere started to get even more intense. Everyone around you also started arguing and saying God knows what, but Rafe was awfully calm, and it frightened you even more.

You moved closer to them as you made your way through the warm sand, until you were able to place a comforting hand on your boyfriend's back. He was so tense under your touch that it amazed you how the hell he was not shaking because of it. The only times you had ever seen him behaving that way was when people whispered something about his father behind his back.

“It’s okay, Ray.” You whispered, kissing his shoulder and sliding your hand down his back to take a hold of his bicep.

“You’re lucky that I don’t hit women. But if I hear a single word about my girlfriend again, you will regret it, I promise you." Your stomach flattered from the way he protected you, from the way his friends opened their mouths in shock at his words. Even Topper and Kelce were too stunned to speak, sending each other weird glances. “Control, your crazy bitch, Top.”

As if nothing had happened, Rafe stepped back, throwing a protective hand over your shoulders and guiding you away from the group. He was silent for a whole walk towards his truck, only stopping near the passenger door and turning you to face him.

His worried blue eyes were almost shining under the bright and hot sun and you saw words forming in his head and sitting at the tip of his tongue. You waited another minute, while Rafe was focused on your necklace, thinking. His hands found a place on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin, until he finally took a deep breath and looked up.

“You’re right.” He said simply. “I’m not this person anymore. That shit with racing with pogues was fun and all, but I didn’t like what happened today.” You half smiled, nodding and encouraging him to talk. “If—if I want to be like my dad, I need to have my priorities straight. No more of this bullshit, no more fake ass people, yeah? You’re the only one who's been here for me for a long fucking time. You’re the only one who I can trust, baby.”

His hand cupped your cheek, eyes focused solemnly on you, before he lowered himself closer to you to place a kiss on your lips.

“This is the right decision. You’ve overgrown them, you’re a better man now. And i’ll be here for you whenever you need me, I promise. I guess it’s just us now." Your body sagged against his, too wrapped in the comfort of his presence to even care about anything else. Your lips brushed against his, making Rafe groan.

“Just us, baby.”

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