#these are in fact supposed to be descriptions of the same man

[e-b-reads]

Not looking for anything particularly deep from this cozy mystery titled (no kidding) Who Moved My Goat Cheese? I'm even OK with the occasional odd punctuation. But I wouldn't mind a little consistency when it comes to the color of the love interest's eyes...

[ikeuverse]

to believe | sjy

pairing: ex!jake x fem!reader  genres: angst, smut, fluff wc: 15.4k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : argument, swearing, mention of cheating, fights, brief description of a physical fight, unprotected sex (don't do it, do it safely), nipple play, cumming inside. lmk if i've forgotten anything.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : you have the mission of being godmother at your brother's wedding, but the only obstacle is sharing it with his best friend, and your ex-bf who you're sure cheated on you, jake sim.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : one of the many stories i have saved for my jake. it was supposed to be short, but i can't, i always get carried away writing it! i hope you enjoy it.

꒰ 𝅄 masterlist ꒱

“I don't believe it” you said, a sigh of weariness and discontent coming from your lips when your brother's voice informed you of this.

You had known that he and Josie would get married from the moment they got engaged in their last year of high school. Heeseung was completely in love with your best friend and you, being a great person, encouraged the two of them to get together. But what frustrated you wasn't the wedding itself, or the responsibility you had been given as a bridesmaid, but the fact that it would all be shared with Jake Sim, Josie's brother and, ironically, your ex-boyfriend.

It would be a blessing to have his friendship after the two of you broke up because, after all, both families would be united one way or another. But the break-up hadn't been pleasant at all and, after a year apart, any interaction between you and Jake was cause for friction. If you were in a cartoon, sparks would surely fly from the two of you every time you were in the same room.

“Come on Y/n, Jake is my best friend and Josie's brother” Heeseung sighed too, putting on a pout that almost had you convinced of the proposal “It was obvious that he would be best man with you at our wedding.”

Your brother was right and you knew it from the start. Since before you and Jake broke up. When Heeseung and Josie talked about marriage in college, saying that the two of you would be the best man because it was perfect that you were both also dating. A coincidence that life provided. Your best friend dating your brother and you dating your best friend's brother. But since things weren't that simple for you, only Josie was happy now.

“Can't you and she, I don't know, just have more than one best man?” your eyes wandered over to your brother who was trying to maintain a relaxed posture, his body slumped nonchalantly on the sofa at your parents' house. Where you and he got together every weekend for lunch or just to pass the time in your hectic lives without any contact during the week “I'd love to be a bridesmaid to Jungwon, for example.”

“He'll be one of the godparents, of course” Heeseung smiled at you, although his gaze was on the large television that was playing some program that your brother could barely pay attention to “But your mission and Jake's are much greater because, well… You'll be our witnesses.”

It was a more than important title. Witnessing their union from the beginning, seeing them sign the papers and then exchange vows, it was all so beautiful.

“That's not the problem” he sighed so loudly that it was only at that moment that Heeseung stopped staring at the television so that he could look in your direction “It's that I'm going to have to go after practically everything for you and Josie together with Jake.”

“A great opportunity for you two to talk and finally understand each other” he said without thinking, regretting it at the exact moment he felt a pillow fly at his head “Ouch! What the fuck, Y/n?”

“You're defending him again!”

“I'm just telling you to really listen to him” Heeseung protected himself from another pillow to the head, holding it in the air before you could even hit him “Jake wouldn't be able to do that. Even more so with you.”

Even more so with you. Why did your brother insist on defending Jake? As if you were dumb enough to have gone to meet him in the locker room before the friendly match and, unfortunately, found a bra in his locker that wasn't yours. You didn't even wear pink bows on the bulge, it was too cute. Only someone wore that kind of outfit, showing off to everyone who had the chance. So it was easy to associate Jake, the captain of the university soccer team, with the slutty cheerleader you grew to hate even more.

Both Heeseung and Josie were forbidden to talk about it, to defend Jake in your presence, or to make you talk to him after you decided to end it all. It could have been completely childish of you not to listen to him, to throw your bra at Jake and utter the last words you could, looking deep into those brown eyes you had once come to love.

“I hate that I loved you” Jake didn't think it would hurt more than the accusation of betrayal, even though he hadn't even had the chance to say anything. Your voice was like a deep cut, bigger than any injury he had once felt playing soccer.

After that day you saw Jake Sim as the biggest traitor in history and the person you had all the bad feelings for. Even if the words had to be a little more restrained in the presence of family or when you decided to omit all the bad things that happened, saying that the break-up was because you wanted to take a trip abroad. The trip happened, and spending almost eight months in Madrid was able to clear your head.

Being away from Jake and everything that involved him and your family – which was now his too – helped you to cope a little with the distance. But you came back so quickly with the news of your brother's wedding that the last few months since your arrival in Madrid have all ended in arguments, or you and Jake swearing at each other until you can't take it anymore.

You could say you felt physical pain just being in his presence because you knew it was inevitable that you wouldn't have a single argument. Did he feel entitled to feel resentful and hurt by something he had done? And did Jake get irritated by the way you got angry without even giving him a chance to explain properly? Jake would never do that, but your mind and your eyes told you otherwise. You didn't want to listen to him, you didn't want to live with him. Perhaps living in Madrid after your brother's wedding could be an almost real thought, although you would never be able to leave your family in the long term.

“Y/n” Heeseung called out, taking you out of your thoughts as he held your hand. The gentle, comforting touch that only your older brother could provide “I know this situation will always be bad for you and him, but—” he squeezed your hand lightly “Can you do this for me and Josie? Please?”

The pleading voice was an extremely low game that Heeseung played with you to get what he wanted, but at that moment you felt vulnerability. You felt that he really wanted you to accept because it went beyond anything between you and Jake. It wasn't on purpose that he and Josie had done this, after all, you and Jake were the brothers of the bride and groom anyway. You both had to be at that wedding one way or another.

Squeezing Heeseung's hands back, you let out a low sigh. Your eyes wandered over his face as you saw hope run through the boy's eyes. It didn't seem like he was older than you and about to get married.

“All right, I'll try” you said at last, watching Heeseung's smile widen even more.

“Thanks Y/n, you're the best sister in the world” he bent down to kiss your cheek, releasing your hands to get up from the sofa.

“I'm the only sister you've got, asshole. I have to be the best!” you protested.

Heeseung's laughter echoed down the corridor to the kitchen, where he had disappeared. Surely he was going after some dessert to share with you while jabbering on about some wedding details he hadn't stopped talking about for a second since you showed up.

Your break-up wasn't an entirely amicable affair between the two of you. Your mind and heart were convinced that Jake had cheated on you, although you had never seen him get so worked up trying to explain that it would never happen. His hands gripping his hair as he paced the room, stuttering or not finishing a sentence because you didn't want to hear it. Part of you knew that denial came because you didn't want to hear anything from him and have to go back on what you saw, but another part still kept the image of that pink bow bra inside his locker in the changing room vivid.

But for your family, the break-up had gone smoothly. You both agreed to make up some excuse, after all, you'd still have to deal with each other for the rest of your lives because now Heeseung and Josie were getting married. There was no way you could avoid Jake or he could avoid you. His closest friends knew what had happened, two of Jake's best friends besides Heeseung and Susan, your other best friend along with Josie. Even though your anger towards him still remained, you didn't want others to think the wrong thing about you and Jake. Sparing you explanations or embarrassment. Even sparing you from remembering that day.

Living in a small – and false – harmony while being close to your family or anyone else who didn't know what actually happened. That's why the two of you were together in the party store at that moment.

Being appointed best man was something Jake knew would happen, ever since Heeseung confessed that he was going to propose to Josie a month before they finished university. Jake didn't want to be selfish by seeing his best friend in love while he was on the brink of ruin because, in addition to breaking up with you, he had just learned that you were going to another country. Maybe that was a good thing after all. Having you away would help him think and even try to find some way to get you to listen to him. Jake wouldn't give up on making you listen to him, even if it took years, he would make you hear the whole truth.

Looking around with a small sigh, he returned to the present moment. Staring at some baskets that he couldn't tell the material of. Wicker, bamboo or straw? Were those ropes really woven together, one by one?

“What have you got on your list?” your voice snapped him out of his reverie and made Jake look quickly in your direction. Trying to concentrate on your serious face, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he looked down at his notes.

He reached for the piece of paper in the back pocket of his jeans, opening what was already all but crumpled. While you had a notebook between your fingers, he had a piece of paper.

Typical Jake Sim, he knew you'd say that out loud if you were still together. And if you were together, you'd roll your eyes playfully and walk over to him, pick up the piece of paper, and throw it away, because his notes would be in your notebook too. And that would make you lean over and kiss him on the lips ever so sweetly, mumbling something about how Jake was a bit disorganized about it and that Josie had the craziest big brother in the world.

“Jake” you called him, almost whispering.

“Sorry” he took a deep breath, trying to focus on what was happening. Rolling his eyes at the words Josie had said a few hours ago, he hastily jotted them down on the piece of paper he was holding “I have some fabrics she asked me for and about three types of flowers for the bouquet and table arrangements.”

“Really?” you walked over to him, leaning close enough to see the piece of paper. Jake held his breath for a few seconds so as not to inhale your perfume, but if he didn't breathe, he would surely die. Then you slowly let out your breath while looking at the top of your head “Do they both think we're ceremonialists?”

“Maybe so” Jake said quietly “but from what Josie said, it's because they both trust us so much that we chose this so carefully.”

They were words she would say. Trusting you and Jake to choose the small details without giving them into the hands of someone she's never seen. Even more so Josie, who had always planned her wedding down to the smallest detail since she was fifteen, back when she hadn't even dreamed of falling in love with Lee Heeseung.

“Which of these three do you think is Josie's favorite?” your eyes searched Jake's after reading the paper. At that moment, neither of you wanted to face each other with such intensity, so close together. But you didn't know that approaching him to read the list would result in being so close. Walking away abruptly at that moment would have been rude, although you had never cared whether it was like that or not with Jake.

He looked at you. Really looked. As he had done ever since he'd seen you for the first time, and it made you feel strange inside. You wanted to think that maybe it was the nervousness of being alone with him after such a long time, being assigned to tasks like being a bridesmaid.

“Dahlia?” he said.

“Was that a question?” you asked him back, raising an eyebrow when you saw the uncertainty in Jake's voice.

“Come on, she's your best friend.”

“And she's your sister.”

“So what?” Jake asked “I don't know what her favorite flower is, Y/n. I don't even know about flowers.”

A big lie, Jake understood. In parts. When the two of you started dating, he did a lot of research on the internet about flowers and their meanings, finding out about the orchid and what it represented. When he bought you your first bouquet of orchids, reciting why he had done it, that was when Jake saw you cry with joy and love for the first time since you two started dating.

And it was from that day on that you both called the orchid the flower of your relationship.

“Yes, you do” you whispered so that he wouldn't hear, you didn't want him to hear. For him to understand that you were thinking practically the same thing as him.

Having that moment of a few hours without a single argument was the result of many requests and practically an engaged couple begging you and Jake not to jump on each other for the sake of the wedding that was yet to take place. Josie knew you well enough to know your limits around Jake, just as she also knew how her brother would cope with being in your presence for so long. It had to be perfect, and it wouldn't be something from your and Jake's old relationship that would affect what she had always dreamed of.

“I'll find the decorations for the tables, can you see the flowers?” Jake just agreed with you as he continued down the aisle of baskets and trinkets for flower arrangements. Agreeing with what you were saying was something he had been practicing over the weeks as he was assigned to spend more time than necessary by your side.

Sometimes the two of you would go out with Heeseung and Josie, looking for things related to the wedding and everything that could be used for the big party. Jake saw how much Heeseung agreed with his fiancée and, with subtle comments, he managed to change her mind when she didn't agree with something. This could be the big key to why their relationship had worked so well from the start.

Where did I go wrong? Jake felt selfish for thinking so, knowing exactly where he went wrong. He didn't insist enough on a conversation, he didn't make you listen to him the way you should have and, as a result, almost a year went by with him being set up as a liar in your head. That's why he decided not to argue and just agreed when you asked or gave your opinion. He agreed with almost everything because he knew how good you were at decorating, not to mention the fact that he knew that you and Josie had talked about marriage for hours when you were still Jake's girlfriend. He remembers nights when he would play with Heeseung while the two of you watched dress fittings, giving your opinions on which one you would like to wear on the big day.

While his sister opted for more flashy things, with some stones and sparkles in the veil, you always chose the simple, strapless dress that accentuated the curves of your body and without too much lace because you didn't want something so big. This simplicity made Jake's eyes sparkle because he could clearly see you in a simple dress. Although all the beauty would turn to your face, no matter what you were wearing.

“Flowers, Jake. Focus on the flowers” he said to himself as he pushed a trolley through the aisles of the store. Memorizing the ones Josie had told him about as an option and going to where they all were.

He had to concentrate on that or he would go mad because there was no way not to have nostalgic thoughts when you were around without fighting with him. These moments were rare, but when they happened, Jake knew he wasn't the only one who thought like that.

Looking at the labels naming each flower, he wondered if it was really necessary. Whether Josie would be angry if he chose any of them instead of the three on that piece of paper because they were just flowers. A color that wasn't too flashy – the only thing Jake could think of was that his sister wanted everything in rosé and champagne tones – and the flowers could be light pink or white. If he got one of those colors, but it wasn't the one she wanted, would his sister be happy? He didn't want to risk that much, so he sighed heavily in search of a dahlia or any of the other two that were named.

Luckily, the white dahlias weren't that far away, and Jake managed to get just the right amount to show Josie and see if that was what she was going to take. Apart from taking a small bouquet, he would probably have to go back with Heeseung and pick up countless flowers just to put on the tables of so many guests he didn't even know his sister had invited.

Rolling his eyes at some of them, Jake gathered a good amount into a clumsy bouquet but organized enough to take to the cashier and pay. His eyes rolled over a few flowers until they stopped: the orchids. He didn't want his heart to race so much that he had to bite his lower lip to suppress a smile. Jake could go on for years without talking to you, but it would never leave his mind.

“You're an idiot, Jake Sim” he hated having the habit of talking to himself while he was in such an internal dilemma but taking just one orchid and hiding it under the bouquet of dahlias was necessary at that moment. He didn't know why he'd done it, but he knew he had to.

“Have you got the flowers yet?” your voice sounded a little louder than usual, at the exact moment when Jake put the flowers into the trolley and looked down the corridor in his direction. He just nodded, watching you approach with some things he couldn't even tell you what they were. Maybe not even you. But they were all named according to what the bride and groom wanted, so all was well and good.

“Do we need anything else?” Jake asked after you'd put everything in the trolley, not even bothering to check that the amount of flowers he'd picked up was correct. This made him sigh with relief, so he wouldn't have to explain why he'd picked up an orchid out of the blue.

“I think we got everything in this store” you said at last, turning away from Jake to look in your notebook and make sure you knew what you were talking about.

He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, run to Heeseung, and tell him what was going on. Or even ask his best friend to take his place on the next outing for the wedding stuff. Because if it went on like this, Jake didn't know if he could take it any longer.

The look on Josie's face could only indicate two things: either she was very nervous, or she had done something wrong. And considering that all the women were gathered in the living room of Mrs. Sim's house for the pre-wedding lingerie tea, maybe your friend was just nervous.

Looking at her for a while, you saw her say something to Susan and, when they both agreed on something before telling you, you could certainly suspect the second thought. This made your heart race because, if something had gone wrong, it was your job as godmother to fix it.

“What happened?” you quickly asked when the two of them approached, Susan looking around before glancing at you and then at Josie.

“Josie needs to tell you something” she said, and then you saw your sister-in-law and best friend open her mouth to say something, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted her.

Some women were arriving, Josie's friends from work, other family friends that Mrs. Sim and her mother had made a point of inviting. Everything would be very welcome if it meant getting things from people before her wedding, after all, Josie wouldn't deny any gifts. She also called some friends from college, and for some reason, your mind clicked so far ahead that you only realized what was happening when you saw her walk through the door.

Your stomach did such a somersault that you almost threw up the lunch you'd eaten with Susan before getting things ready for Josie at her mother's house. You thought the last time you'd see Stacy Joseph, the owner of the pink bow bra, would be in that hallway where you threw it at her and nearly broke her nose when you went to make amends. The last contact between the two of you was with Susan standing between you and her after you punched her in the nose, watching her bleed while you told her to swallow that stupid fabric. After that, you never saw her around the college campus, near anyone you knew or, worse, near Jake.

“Y/n, I—”

“Girls!” even her voice made you nauseous, and you wanted to ask yourself over and over again why Jake had chosen Stacy Joseph to be the pivot of the break-up and the reason for the betrayal between the two of you.

You remained silent the whole time she entered the house, left the gift package in the middle of the living room, and walked in the direction the three of you were heading. As a little dejavú, Susan stood next to you, almost between the two of you when Stacy got close enough to greet Josie.

“I'm so happy you're getting married, that's so cool” she hugged Josie so tightly, that you wanted to rip her out of her best friend's arms.

“Thank you for coming” she just replied, letting go of the hug and looking straight at you.

Stacy didn't say your name or Susan's, but the cordiality meant that she just nodded at you both in mute greeting.

“Y/n” Josie called your name, but your head was spinning and you looked like you were going to throw up. Her voice lingered in the back of your mind as you broke away from your friends and ran to Mrs. Sim's kitchen.

This couldn't be happening, not to you. For almost a year you had managed to forget what her face looked like, her voice, and even her presence, focusing your anger only on Jake because he was the only one you were around all the time. Now seeing her in front of you again, being invited to your sister-in-law's pre-wedding party… No, that was too much for you.

“Look Y/n, listen to me” Josie entered the kitchen, followed by Susan who looked at the two of you and then towards the entrance to the room, fearing that Stacy might follow them and, who knows, start an unnecessary argument “I heard she was coming a few hours ago, and it was because of your brother!”

“What do you mean?” you didn't want to look at her now, you didn't want to show how much this affected you. So your gaze went to the counter where your mother had placed drinks to be served when all the women had arrived. You didn't mind opening a bottle with the highest proof, grabbing a glass, and filling it halfway before downing it. “Shit.”

“Y/n” Josie was on the other side of the counter, right in front of you. Susan was next to her, looking at you too. “I didn't know she was Haechan's girlfriend because he never told us, and since Heeseung invited him because he was on the soccer team… He asked if he could invite his girlfriend and—” she took a deep breath, feeling her eyes burn at how shaken you had been. When you filled the glass for the second time, Josie quickly took it and drank, just like you had done a few seconds before, feeling the burning sensation go down your throat. “Haechan didn't say her name or anything, otherwise I would have made an excuse.”

“No” you quickly said. “It's okay, it's just—”

“Besides, Jake didn't even cheat on you, but you don't want to hear that right now” Susan took the glass from Josie's hand, looking in your direction with a raised eyebrow. You felt your whole body ache just thinking about starting that debate again, how tired and upset you were to see your best friends siding with a traitor like Jake. No one had seen what you saw in his locker, so why not believe you?

“We found you three” Mrs. Sim entered the kitchen with an unusual excitement. She smiled at the three of you and didn’t notice the strange atmosphere that was there before she arrived “Have you gone to taste our drinks yet?” she laughed when she saw the glass in Josie’s hand and the open bottle in front of you. Your mother came in right after with one of her arms linked through Jake’s. And that’s when your legs went completely weak.

“What are you doing here, honey? It’s a women-only party” Mrs. Sim said as soon as she saw her son enter the kitchen with your mother. She seemed to be babbling about something he hadn’t even heard yet.

“I came to get my wallet and car keys” Jake said, but his gaze was on you the whole time. You felt that he was, even though you had looked away so as not to look at him at that moment.

“Then you can leave, there will only be women’s talk here” your mother let go of his arm for a second, “Things about panties, drinks, bras, and stuff.”

She and your mother laughed, you saw Josie’s smile slowly appear, as she searched for your gaze.

“About bras? Then Jake can stay” you murmured, “He loves that.”

Oh, no. It had been too long since the two of you had had an argument since the wedding preparations began. You looked up at him, seeing that Jake seemed unreadable with that expression. He had definitely seen Stacy in the living room because your mother was there welcoming people, so he must have seen her. Or worse, he must have heard Haechan talking about her when he arrived for the boys' party that was happening simultaneously at your house at that moment.

“I love bras? Is that what you're saying?” Jake scoffed, the sound making your whole body shiver. Josie and Susan looked at the situation nervously, trying to predict the next moves to try to intervene since your mothers were there. It would be the first argument in front of them.

“Of course” you smiled falsely, “With pink bows and everything.”

The sound around happened naturally, people talking loudly and walking from one side to the other. In the other room, it was easy to hear the laughter of the women who were eager to start the party. Your mother and Jake's mother picked up some bottles, paying attention to the two of you who were standing there staring at each other. While Josie, surreptitiously, walked to her brother's side to try to get him out of there.

“I hate bras” Jake made a small face when his sister approached “You must know that Y/n, because I took yours off every day.”

“Holy shit” Susan almost choked on her own saliva as she held back a laugh, even though the mood wasn't conducive to it. But your face was priceless because no one expected that answer from Jake. Not even you.

“What?” your mother looked at you two, astonished, although she didn’t need to explain to anyone what happened in a relationship. Even more so for as long as it had lasted with you and Jake. You two were adults, above all, and no one would interfere in that.

“Sorry” Jake quickly said, feeling Josie’s hand on his shoulders, gently pushing him out of the kitchen. “Have a good party, girls. See you later!” he felt his cheeks burning, even though he had given you a good answer, it was still in the presence of your mother and his mother, so Jake acted on total impulse.

Of course, he was nervous and scared when he saw Stacy in the living room of his mother’s house. He knew Haechan was dating someone, but no one knew who she was until she showed up. Jake knew he had a lot to tell Heeseung as soon as he got to his house for the boys’ party, but that didn’t stop his mind from wandering to the moment the two of you had in the kitchen. If Jake thought that this marriage would be peaceful, even with the problems, now he had just felt that it wasn't.

Three days until the wedding, where Josie and Heeseung would exchange vows, celebrate, and finally become part of the same family. She was so happy to know that her wishes were coming true, especially with someone like Heeseung. Who had always taken care of her since the first moment they were together. So planning and executing every little thing of that party didn't become a tiring job because, in the end, it made up for the joy of both of them.

And that was why you tried to ignore the discomfort in your chest every time you were around Jake – more than usual – after the meeting between the two of you at his parents' house. A whole week passed after that and you tried not to be around him alone for so long, even though you had to hurry to try on the dresses that your sister-in-law had set aside for the bridesmaid.

Going to the wedding dress store had to be a task done by you and Jake, together. But after that, you wanted to avoid him as much as he was trying to avoid you too. So you left your apartment without waiting for his ride, which was happening in the last few moments of every place you two went together. You went into the store and gave the bride's name, saying that there were some spares for you to try on in the color Josie had designated for you. The saleswoman, smiling and attentive, took you to the changing room so you could try it on and see how it would look on your body.

Being covered in a chic, pink, almost silk dress made you feel beautiful and desired. You knew Josie had that kind of taste. It was easy to trust her taste in clothes, but it wouldn't be an effort to try them on just to make her happy. Maybe you would keep the first one you put on anyway, but since there were five more on the hangers, you would need to put each one on. That way you could tell her why you had chosen one over the other.

“This way, Mr. Jake” the voice of the same saleswoman called down the hallway and you quickly straightened up, adjusting the second dress on your body when you heard footsteps walking in front of your door.

You ran to it and unlocked it, on impulse, just as the saleswoman was opening the door to the dressing room across from yours.

"Y/n? Are you here yet?" Jake was startled when he looked at you, but his eyes softened enough for him to make eye contact for a few seconds. You just nodded, looking away at the saleswoman.

“So you two are Josie and Heeseung’s godparents?” she asked.

“Yes” you and Jake said at the same time, her smile widening.

“Perfect” you said slowly. “Mr. Jake, your suits are in there as requested, and Ms. Y/n, did the dresses look good?”

“I’m still trying on the second one” you opened the door a little wider to show her. It wasn’t the silk of the first dress, but the lace and rhinestone trim gave a perfect glimpse of the curves of your hips. The saleswoman had a fond smile on her face, complimenting how beautiful you looked.

“It really does look beautiful” Jake blurted out, taking you and the saleswoman out of the small conversation you had both been having. Only then did he notice that the three of you were still standing in the hallway and that you were still wearing one of the dresses.

Your voice didn’t come out as a thank you, but you walked back into the dressing room and closed the door behind you before saying anything to him. Leaning your back against the cold wood and trying to normalize your heartbeat. Why did he have to say that as if nothing was happening?

In the time that followed, you tried to focus your attention on the other dresses and how the colors Josie had chosen were flattering to your skin tone and the color of your eyes. You felt more and more beautiful in each piece that slid over your body, the reflection in the mirror pleasing you more and more, making it practically impossible to choose a single piece that you could definitely choose. Going to the last dress, then, you decided to take off the one you were wearing and slide the fabric over your body.

Another silk, this time a little thinner, but not enough to be transparent. This one could have been designed for you because Josie knew you didn't want anything so flashy. You smiled to yourself after putting on the dress, turning your back to do up the zipper that was the only lock on the piece.

“Shit,” you grumbled when you saw it get stuck right at the beginning. “No, no, no…” despair began to take over your body. You couldn’t take off that dress or pull up the zipper and risk ripping something so expensive. Your mind raced to call the saleswoman quickly. She would be the only one who could help you with that zipper and would even be a good company to give advice to others who had doubts.

So yes, that’s what you would do. Holding the front of the dress with the straps hanging loosely on your shoulders, you walked to the door and unlocked it. Only sticking your head out and looking for the saleswoman. Not a soul passed by that hallway and you started to get a little scared because the only sound was footsteps coming from downstairs, where people were walking back and forth through the store.

The only sound that took you away from your thoughts of taking off your dress and giving up on trying it on was the click of the lock on the door in front of you. Jake had messy hair, adjusting his fly and the first four buttons of his white shirt open.

“Y/n?” he called you, finishing closing the zipper and running a hand through his hair to try to fix it a little. “I heard your door opening and I thought you were leaving, but— Are you okay?” he looked at you as soon as he stopped talking.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, admiring how handsome he looked even in that sloppy and unkempt way. You imagined how clumsy Jake was with formal and elegant clothes, especially since you were the one helping him with the tie knots since you had to learn because of Heeseung and your father.

“I think…” you sighed, not wanting to say it out loud. He almost scolded himself for knowing you so well and knowing that something was wrong, so he walked the few steps from his door to yours, stopping in front of you “I think my dress zipper got stuck.”

“Do you need help?” he asked. You nodded slowly and, without saying anything else, let him enter your dressing room and closed the door right after.

Jake could see how organized you were even with a larger amount of dresses than he had to try on pants and shirts. Everything was perfectly folded, some even already hanging on the hangers while the pants he tried on were on the floor and only the blazers were on the hanger because he couldn’t find a single one that he thought looked nice on him.

“Okay, what do I need to do?” he turned towards you, noticing the way you were holding the front of your dress for dear life.

“Can you try to pull up the zipper? Otherwise, we can call the saleswoman” you turned your back to him and Jake had to hold his breath a little. The amount of skin was too much for him to see, even though it wasn't an unfamiliar sight for him. But after so long having this kind of contact was something Jake wasn't expecting.

“Okay, okay,” he said more to himself, walking towards you when you threw all your hair to the side, leaving your back completely bare to him.

Jake’s fingers trembled uselessly when the tip of his index finger and thumb touched the zipper. Nothing more than that, because he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

“It’s not going to happen,” he said after forcing it a little, the zipper not moving.

“Try again, please” you asked. “This dress is perfect and I think your sister chose it because maybe it suits me better than the others.”

He didn’t want to admit that yes, that dress was perfect on you. Even if you weren’t dressed properly and you still had to close the zipper to see the final result, Jake didn’t need that to compliment you or find you beautiful in any outfit. Taking another step forward, Jake thought he could dare and listen to his instincts, or he simply wouldn’t have a chance of doing that anymore. So he muted any other voice in his head and listened only to what his heart was telling him to do. With his free hand, Jake grabbed your waist under the thin fabric of your dress. He had touched your skin before under some silk that you had worn during the years of your relationship, but nothing compared to the dress you were wearing now.

You tried to hold back any sound that might come out of your mouth as his hand slowly squeezed your hip, while the other tried to pull up the zipper of your dress. Jake seemed focused on that action that bent over enough for his breath to hit the back of your neck. His eyes traveled up the length of your back and saw your skin crawl with that simple gesture.

So he still had some effect on you.

It was too much information for him to process. Jake affects your body, the closeness of the two of you, and the even heavier atmosphere between you after Stacy's arrival. It was too much for him to process. Jake could never do anything rational under pressure, so he knew it would have a drastic consequence, he wouldn't stop trying.

Turning your body and pressing it against his chest, you didn't have a chance to swear at him. There was not even time to speak a single syllable when Jake's lips quickly sought yours. It was like an act of returning home, where he already knew the way and only needed those few seconds to have his lips on yours.

If Jake was being irrational about the whole thing, you weren't going to be the only thinking person or get in the way of what was happening. Part of you wanted it, although the other part of you disagreed with having the tip of Jake's tongue poking at your lower lip. With a low moan, you gave way and that was all he needed. To tangle his tongue in yours, to taste you in his mouth again while his hands ran down your hips and gripped your body as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it did because to go a whole time like that without feeling his lips, without sliding your teeth across his bottom lip or having your hands wrapped in his hair. Your body pressed against his while you moaned low against his mouth every time the kiss intensified. Jake missed that as much as you did. And seeing how intensely you were giving yourself to him was more than an answer to what he needed.

Walking towards the nearest table, careful not to ruin his clothes on the way, Jake leaned you against the wood without interrupting the kiss in the process. He didn't want to pull his mouth away from yours and even though you both needed air, he wanted to be able to breathe the air from your mouth if at all possible. His hands, still on your waist, slid all over your back, still uncovered by the fabric that wouldn't close at all. Thanks for the stuck zipper, he thought, running his hand up your spine until he tangled the fabric of the dress between his fingers.

Jake's mouth parted from yours just then, his forehead still pressed against yours and his eyes slowly opening to search for yours. A silent request as to whether he could go on with it or whether you were sorry and wanted him to leave the room.

Your hands found his and as if to help him, you pulled the loose fabric down your body, revealing your chest as all the silk bunched around your hips. His eyes shone brightly. Jake could tell it had all been worth it just from that sight. Your hands found his hair and he slid his lips down your neck as you spread your legs, beckoning him to snuggle in.

Jake ran his hands up the sides of your body, his thumbs finding your erect nipples and putting a fair amount of pressure there, just as his lips found your earlobe.

“Jake” you moaned his name, and that sound he missed so much. How slyly you used to moan his name.

“Yeah, baby?” he whispered against your skin, his hands gripping your breast a little more firmly before he released his lips from your neck and moved down to your collarbone.

Your voice gradually died away as Jake's mouth descended your skin in slow, wet kisses, his tongue tracing a teasing path down the middle of your breast. His breathing made a point of getting heavy with every line of saliva he left against your skin, the heat building there and intensifying between your legs.

“Fuck” you moaned as his tongue flicked across your nipple, the tip circling a few times before he took it all in his mouth. Sucking and making it even more sensitive with every warm touch of his tongue and the light scrape of his teeth on it. Jake's attention took turns on each of your breasts, leaving enough of a mark for you to remember him when you got dressed for the wedding a few days later. Or when you came home to take a shower, looking at your chest and the amount of hickeys he was leaving.

You arched your back and, with some difficulty, pulled the rest of your dress down to your feet to get rid of the fabric that was now bothering you so much. The amount of clothing was unbearable for you as Jake settled further between your legs, still sucking on your nipples.

“Jake, please” you practically begged him as he looked more and more hungry with his mouth on your nipple. Circling his tongue and letting go with a low, teasing pop, raising his face to meet yours.

“Do you want it as much as I do?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low, his lips red and shiny from the amount of saliva that had been smeared across your breast.

“I want it, very much” if he kept teasing you, you'd be pathetic enough to cry out for him and ask him to fuck you right there.

Fortunately Jake understood you so well and you knew he couldn't stand teasing you for so long, even more so with the hunger and thirst he'd been teasing and kissing you with minutes ago. He didn't want to waste any time, lifting his shirt over his head without bothering to remove the buttons, the zipper of his pants came down in seconds and he quickly removed the fabric along with his underwear. Jake didn't want to wait any longer.

He went back between your legs, sliding his hands up and down your thighs. Caressing the soft skin he had felt for so long. Nostalgia washed over him with every touch, going down to your hips to grab the fabric of your panties, throwing them on the floor as quickly as he did his clothes.

“Y/n, we—” you kissed his lips, not letting him finish saying anything. You knew Jake would explain himself, say something to try and comfort you from what you'd felt for so long. But the heat of the moment demanded that he just be inside you. And that's what you did. Holding his cock and pumping slowly, you heard Jake moan against your lips, his brow furrowed as you rubbed the head of his cock against your pussy lips to gather the perfect amount of your juices.

Jake arched his hips against your hand, feeling his cock get wet with the union of your arousal and his pre-cum, without having to worry about preparing you or anything. It was also because of the rush you were both in to feel each other, but he wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you, and the way you were calmly taking it all in was driving Jake crazy.

“I don't want to hurt you” he whispered when you stopped teasing him and stopped rubbing the head of his cock all over your pussy. Jake's cock was already wet enough and you were already more than lubricated, he wasn't going to hurt you.

“You won't hurt me, I promise” you whispered with your lips close to his, without kissing him, waiting for Jake to take the next step between the two of you.

As if it were a communication just by looking, as soon as Jake leaned his forehead against yours, he understood that it had to be done. So you thrust your hips slowly, feeling your entrance suck the head of his cock. Just the tip penetrating you was enough to make you moan, pressing your lips against Jake's and bending your body over the table. He wrapped his arms around you, gripping your body between his arms, afraid that you would run away at that moment. Afraid that everything you were both experiencing would be thrown away and that maybe it was Jake's dream, where he dozed off in the fitting room opposite yours, idealizing what was happening.

But no, it was all real. He was slowly penetrating you, gripping your body between his arms and feeling your arms around his neck, as if you needed to steady yourself just by hugging him.

Reaching the bottom, with his cock completely inside you, Jake didn't let go of your embrace. He moved his hips slowly, withdrawing his cock and leaving just the tip inside you, only to return slowly and intensely until his cock was inside your pussy. The movement of your hips became constant, and the sound of the moans that the two of you shared in whispers gave the moment even more intensity. Jake was careful not to go too fast and hard because the way you squeezed his cock showed how sensitive your pussy was to receiving him back.

“You don't know…” Jake sucked a moan from your mouth, pressing his forehead to yours when a particularly intense movement hit you, making the head of his cock touch your spongy spot and your walls tighten around it. Jake could have sworn he was going to come right then and there, but he had to stop himself, he didn't want to finish yet “You don't know how much I've missed this… How much I've missed you.”

Your fingernails scratched Jake's shoulder blades, making the thrust forceful as his skin burned a little. You bit his lower lip, stopping yourself from moaning loudly so that the whole store could hear the two of you. Your legs wrapped even tighter around Jake's moving hips, giving him no room to pull away for even a second.

“I've missed you, Jake” your hips were now moving along with his, but slowly, while Jake was intensifying his thrusts, wanting you to feel every moment of his cock moving in and out of you. Withdrawing his cock slowly and putting it back in just as slowly, going hard only at the end so that the head of his cock touched your cervix or you felt every rise in your walls with his size “I've missed you so much.”

Jake could cum with the intensity of your gaze, your fucked-up expression, and how you moaned his name as you said those things. He knew that anything you did while he had his cock buried in you was a reason for him to come, and he didn't want to hold back any longer.

With a silent request, Jake kissed your lips and moved his hands down between your bodies in the small space you left between the two of you. His fingers soon found your clitoris and he circled it at the same speed as his cock moved in and out of you.

You could see stars with the double sensation, your body writhing between Jake's arms as his thrusts began to pick up speed. He was close to cumming and you weren't much different, you knew him well enough for that. You both knew each other's bodies that well.

“I need you to cum with me, please” Jake asked against your lips, his cock driving in a little harder, along with his fingers circling your clit a little faster.

Without the strength to say anything, you just agreed and continued to move your hips so that you were in sync with Jake and what he was doing. Your hands grabbed his hair, keeping Jake's mouth close enough to yours and catching his tongue between your lips. Sucking on his tongue with the same intensity as your pussy swallowed his cock was divine, Jake was losing count of how many times he came with this sensation. Being swallowed by your pussy and your mouth sucking his tongue just like you used to suck his cock.

He could hear you moaning his name in a muffled way, your lips around the tip of his tongue and your pussy swallowing more and more of him. A precise circle on your clit along with his cock moving in and out was enough to make the knot in your stomach burst. Your pussy convulsed, and your walls fluttered around his entire length, cumming all over Jake's cock. The heat of your pussy, the oozing of your cum, and the way you moaned his name over and over were too much for him to bear, and not a second later Jake's jets of hot, thick cum spurted into your pussy.

His thrusts became more and more erratic and sloppy as he still came inside your completely fucked pussy, pushing his cum that threatened to fall out of your hole by the amount he had cum in so long. You were still sensitive and the overstimulation wasn't bad, although you felt like crying at the way Jake still kept his cock in you, moving in and out until your pussy milked the last drop out of him.

Jake rested his hands on either side of your body, next to your hips on the table. With his cock still inside you and his body still between your legs. He opened his eyes slowly to find your face calm and serene, your expression a little more relaxed than before.

“Jake…” you whispered, not wanting him to pull away from you.

“Yes?” he said in the same tone, one of his hands coming up to push your hair out of your face. He shifted his gaze down your body, the sheen of the light layer of sweat forming against your skin, your hips still joined without the strength to separate. The skin of his chest covered by the marks of his mouth made him smile with satisfaction at his work.

“Can we stay like this for a few minutes?” your request made his heart race, even though it had been racing since the first second you two kissed in that fitting room.

“As long as you want” he moved a little closer, giving you a small kiss on the forehead before placing his forehead against yours. Not wanting to leave your side even after the post-orgasm sensation had passed.

The rest of the days passed like a blur, and not because you or Jake were avoiding each other after what happened. But because time got too short it seemed like more things were happening until the big day. You and he didn't seem to mind each other's presence while you had to sort things out, the tiredness of the final preparations giving way to each other's bodies while all you could think about was getting it over with.

You could breathe a sigh of relief after walking in with Jake at Josie and Heeseung's wedding, listening to the whole ceremony in silence and admiration. Smiling at the vows of the two newlyweds and holding back the tears that threatened to fall. Finally, it was over and you could proudly say that you had been a great godmother. That your brother and sister-in-law had been right to appoint you and Jake to that role.

Now, enjoying the post-wedding party was the only thing on your mind. The glass was freshly filled with booze for the fourth time, the empty hand resting on Susan's shoulder as she hugged Josie's waist, humming the song that was playing throughout the huge hall. This is what you three thought it would be like. Drunk, happy, and laughing as you remember how you met. The time you shared and how much your friendship meant to each other.

“Even though Y/n is my sister-in-law now” Josie swallowed a drunken sob, smiling as she pulled you into a hug with Susan “you two will always be my heart sisters.”

“Is that supposed to make us sentimental?” Susan asked.

“Is it working?” Josie retorted.

It might work because you all already had a fair amount of alcohol in your system, considering how long you'd been here after the ceremony. You still spent time with Heeseung, congratulating your brother and warning him to take good care of Josie. Although he was your brother, your brotherhood with her was strong enough for you to take her away from their house, which hadn't even been furnished yet. With Susan's help, the two of you would take Josie away without a second thought in case Heeseung did something to her. Even though you knew it would never happen.

After a few minutes of exchanging warm, sentimental words, laughing until your belly ached, and refilling your glasses, the three of you broke away from the hugs to go around the party in search of something different for the next few minutes before meeting up again. Josie would go after Heeseung or your mother because she wanted to talk to her new daughter-in-law. Susan would go after Sunghoon, for sure. She missed her boyfriend, who would probably be hanging around the party clutching Heeseung's tie and collecting funny nicknames for the newlywed. Your mind immediately wandered to Jake, thinking that you could go after him and just talk about what happened, maybe. But your feet were killing you enough that you didn't even consider the idea of going out, so you walked over to the nearest table to sit down.

“Can I join you?” your gaze lifted to the person in front of you, smiling when you noticed Haechan's presence.

“Sure, join me” he smiled back at you, taking off his blazer and putting it on the back of his chair before sitting down. You could tell by the lazy sound that came from his lips how exhausted he looked.

“Getting around with your brother and Sunghoon wasn't an easy task” he grumbled, his fingers lightly massaging his left temple as he looked around. Looking for one of his friends or even his girlfriend.

“Are they giving you much trouble?” you asked.

“Enough that Sunghoon and Jake made him almost undress three times” Haechan said, making you laugh.

“Hey, I didn't do anything like that!” the defense in Jake's voice took you by surprise, and both you and Haechan looked in the direction of the slowly approaching voice. At the beginning of the party, Jake looked impeccable. His hair, which he had let grow – because Josie had asked him to, wanting his brother to have an impeccable hairstyle for her wedding – had been slicked back with a little gel, and was now disheveled and messy. The first two buttons of his shirt were open and Jake's tie was completely loosened, but still around his neck. The typical scene of how relaxed he was, but not to the point of getting drunk like you were starting to.

“You'll have to fight with your sister if her husband gets naked in front of everyone” Haechan defended, having his train of thought interrupted by him making Jake laugh. The sound of laughter calmed every cell in your body.

You noticed that he was a little more relaxed, smiling at some of the things Haechan said to him while you switched off a little. Your focus was now on the heel you were trying to take off and how much your feet might scream if they could talk. Without much delay, you unbuckled your heels and took them off, leaving them in a corner under your chair.

“But seriously, this wedding is just the way you two wanted it, isn't it?” your attention returned to the two boys talking right in front of you. Jake slyly pulled out a chair to sit next to you and his gaze ran down to where you were futilely trying to massage your feet.

“In every detail” he smiled at Haechan “Heeseung tries to deny that it was all my sister's doing, but we know he wanted it that way too” seeing how much Jake knew your brother was very gratifying, to know that someone understood him as much as you did.

At some point in the conversation, you found yourself looking between the two of them as they talked about how nice it was to be friends with Heeseung. At the time in college when Haechan wanted to join the soccer team and almost didn't get accepted because he had missed the time to introduce himself to the boys. Jake had his full attention on him, listening to every word while his hands thought differently, running down your calf until they caught your ankle. Without saying a word to you and without looking in your direction, he picked up your foot and placed it on his lap. The fingers lightly squeezing the sole of your foot almost made you moan at how good it felt, how much you needed that silent massage from Jake.

“One relationship I also admire is the two of you” Haechan pointed at you and Jake. Your eyes quickly met his for a split second, Jake's fingers stopped just as Haechan smiled, and then he went back to massaging your feet.

“Why?” Jake asked for you, knowing that his concentration was on the pain that was leaving, and how his body was slightly tense from the question.

“Because even after you broke up, you two carried on as friends” Haechan sounded dreamy as he said that little bit of admiration, even if it wasn't true. That the image you and Jake passed on to your friends was false, because you and he weren't friends, you never were. The war footing you two were on was hell on earth and neither of you knew how you were surviving until the present moment “I don't know if I'd be able to be friends with Stacy if the two of us broke up.”

There was a brief pause when Haechan spotted one of his friends with two glasses in his hand. He asked for one, even though the guy wasn't a waiter, but he smiled and handed it to him, asking if you and Jake wanted one too. Denying it and thanking you both, Jake smiled at him and let Haechan take a good sip of his drink.

“How long have you and Stacy been together?” Jake asked, not knowing the origin or the reason for all this. Maybe it was to get away from the attention his friend had given to your relationship, but he just wanted to deflect it and do everything he could to keep you away from him.

“Since college” he replied, taking another sip of his drink “our relationship is a little crazy.”

Jake knew you were looking at him at that moment, he could feel the weight of your gaze almost smoking on the back of his neck while his gaze was on Haechan.

“Tell me about it, I never knew” Jake prodded.

You didn't know why he was doing it. Whether it was to torture you for talking about Stacy so freely in front of him or whether he wanted to talk to Haechan, who barely knew that you had almost broken his girlfriend's nose in college.

“Well, we started going out after a fraternity party, it wasn't anything serious at first” he shrugged, the unfinished drink in his glass now playing between his fingers and a small smile on his lips.

Haechan talked about his and Stacy's relationship carefully, as if the image she had made of herself to him was a version you had never met. But then your ears perked up a little more when he got to a particular moment in the story.

“Dude, I… Y/n, do you mind if I say that?” Haechan looked at you, noticing that the story was taking a turn that only boys could be interested in.

“Not at all” you tried to smile at him, almost grimacing at the way it had come out “I'm just focusing on my massage” you pointed downwards where Jake's hands were still occasionally squeezing your feet. He laughed and continued, looking at Jake this time.

“I went crazy when we started dating because Oliver talked about Stacy's fame and for the first few weeks I wanted to prove whether it was true or not.”

Stacy's fame in college was her cute lingerie, the famous – and hated by you – pink bow bra. It wasn't necessarily fame because she made a point of showing part of her bra with a tank top during training and it had even been proven by those who slept with her. It wouldn't be a fame if they already had proof.

“When I saw it, I made a point of… spicing up our relationship at the beginning, to prove that she wanted it and that it wasn't the same with everyone.”

“And how did you get her to prove it?” Jake asked Haechan.

“Oh, you know” he leaned back in his chair, stretching as much as he could and almost yawning, but he wasn't sleepy enough for that “I asked her to leave a bra in my closet on the day of the game.”

Jake was the first to make eye contact with you as if he'd expected that answer or any reaction to it. Your eyes sought his and, a few seconds later, you looked at Haechan.

“What day was that?” you asked “I mean… what game?”

“The last friendly we had against the University of the South” he looked nostalgic as he recalled one of the last games he'd played in a university shirt “I told her to leave it in my locker and then we'd celebrate under the shower, you know.”

You didn't know what it was like because you were disgusted to do anything in the university's men's locker room, but that didn't stop you from finding Jake and going home with him to celebrate. That's how you ended up in the locker room on that fateful day.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Haechan asked after a while. He was still talking to Jake about something you didn't even know you wanted to hear right now, your mind was racing. If Stacy had done that in Jake's locker, what story had she told Haechan to make him think he was the only one who had received a pink bow bra in his locker?

“Excuse me” you asked, taking your feet off Jake's lap so quickly that he didn't even have time to hold you or ask where you were going.

A lot of questions were running through your mind at that moment, for example, how Stacy was managing to cope with a lie that she maintained even after the encounter you two had? Even after you hit her and cursed at her even though she was dating Haechan after everything. While you maintained that Jake was the liar in all this, the big liar was there all along.

You didn't know what you were doing, but the next thing you knew, your feet were leading you in the direction where Stacy was. Near the bar and away from the many people at the party, she was chatting with Susan and Sunghoon as if she had been friends with them for years. Although you knew that your friend and her boyfriend were very polite, you didn't like the closeness she was trying to force.

“Hey, Y/n” Sunghoon was the first to see you coming, his smile showing the fangs that you heard Susan sigh almost all the time. He waved at you without a response, only to see you advance towards Stacy as soon as you got close enough.

“You slut!” your hands grabbed the fabric of her dress, almost tearing it with how hard you were squeezing.

“Let me go, you're hurting me” she whimpered, feeling your nails dig a little deeper into her skin as you gripped her dress even tighter.

“So you've been lying all this time, have you?” you pushed her away when you felt Susan's hands pulling at you, wanting to push you away from Stacy, but unable to put that much force into your actions. She was drunk enough not to be able to separate you as she normally did. Then she looked in Sunghoon's direction, searching for some kind of help.

“Lied about what?” she asked.

“Don’t play dumb!” you yelled, but your voice couldn’t be heard the way you wanted to by the people around you, only Stacy and Susan were able to hear how loud you were talking because of how close you were. “That day at the game, Jake’s locker. Tell the truth, you slut—”

Sometimes you had the slight impression that your brother arrived at the worst times, like in a suspenseful scene from your favorite series, or when you and your mother wanted to listen to the neighbors’ fights and Heeseung slammed the door right when one of them told you something very important. And like now, when you were about to live the nostalgic moment of punching Stacy right in the nose, but your brother’s hands were quick enough to grab you and pull you away from her.

“What’s going on?” he asked, standing between the two of you and facing you “Hey, sis, look at me.”

“Let me go or I’ll finish her off.”

“You’re not going anywhere” Heeseung said. His eyes searched for something behind you and when he found it, you didn’t even need to turn around to know that Sunghoon had gone after Jake and Josie.

“What’s going on here? Are you okay?” Josie asked as she looked at Heeseung and you, but when her eyes landed on Stacy, some of her sobriety returned. She knew that this could happen at the party and was already preparing for some argument between the two of you, she just didn’t know it would be practically halfway through the night.

“I… I was at the bar talking to Susan and Sunghoon when Y/n arrived and—”

“Oh, for God's sake, stop your shitty little act” you snapped, almost advancing on her if it weren’t for Heeseung’s strength still holding you in place. Your brother didn’t move an inch until Jake took his place, standing in front of you and holding you. On another occasion, you would be cursing him and not wanting Jake to touch you, but seeing him there at that moment seemed to make all the difference.

“Stacy, love, what’s going on here?” when she heard Haechan’s voice, Stacy seemed to freeze in place. She looked at him with wide eyes and rapid breathing, perhaps even more than before when the two of you almost argued.

She found herself between a rock and a hard place now, maintaining that lie was no longer hers and she knew that sooner or later it should have been said. Stacy just didn’t know why it had taken so long.

“I… I think I did something wrong and…” you couldn’t swallow her fake crying and the sobs that threatened to come out of the girl’s lips who, with the help of her boyfriend, took a step forward to tell the whole story to your friends.

Hearing all of that from the point of view of the one who had caused you the most pain only made your blood boil even more. You – and the entire campus – knew how much Stacy always bragged about getting with every guy she wanted, with only Heeseung and Sunghoon being the only ones under the radar, she wanted to be content with that. But when she found out that Jake, besides being on the soccer team, was coveted for dating the team captain's sister… Oh, she wanted him. It was impossible to get him, but she would do anything to try anything and get with Jake at least one thing. It was then that she had the brilliant idea of ​​replicating Haechan's wish.

The friendly match against the southern university was packed, with everyone on campus stopping to watch the match and cheer for the team. You and your friends weren't much different, wanting to see the boys and supporting them at all costs. Unfortunately, Stacy heard how lovingly you told Jake that you would wait for him after the game in the locker room to get his things and go home.

“Can you get my shirt from my locker? I left it open, you can wear it, it's for good luck in my game today. Then I want to take you out of here” his locker would be open, and fitting like a glove, Haechan's idea could serve Jake at that moment. Stacy would put her bra in his locker, let you think whatever you wanted and then she would go on with her life as if nothing had happened. She did that and took off the bra she was wearing to put in Haechan's locker, so she wouldn't waste time because she didn't know if you would throw the fabric away or if you would confront her. She found herself in the unfortunate decision of having the latter option two days later.

“You already got revenge on me for that day and I apologize to you.” Stacy felt her eyes burning, she was embarrassed for being caught and confronted at a wedding party she didn’t even know why she had gone to. She thought that not telling him she was Haechan’s girlfriend would be the best choice to see the faces of familiar people once again since no one had kept in touch with her besides her boyfriend.

“Did you get revenge on her? What did you do?” Jake looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, doubt in his expression, and his lips in a cute pout. If it weren’t for the current situation, you would have kissed him for sure.

“I didn’t do anything” you said softly, just so he could hear. But Stacy didn’t listen, so she kept talking.

“She hit me in the hallway of the north block a few days later” she sighed “Almost broke my nose.”

“What?” Sunghoon shouted in surprise “So our last fraternity party… The injury on your nose…”

“It wasn’t a cheerleader stunt” she continued.

A short silence fell between you all, only the music of the party and Stacy’s small sobs could be heard. You could notice how much Josie was trying to calm the situation and disperse the people so that everyone could enjoy the rest of the party.

Your gaze went up to Jake’s face and he was expressionless now. The astonishment that had taken over had given way to a neutral look, but it contained something that you couldn’t identify. Remorse? Fear? Anger?

“Jake…” you called him without knowing why you were doing that. He was still looking at you with the same expression, not even softening at the sound of your voice.

“Can we talk later?” he asked, his tone serious, but somehow trying to sound a little calm for your liking “I’ll take you home and then we can talk, okay?”

There was no way you could insist or say no, just accept it because you didn't even know why you wanted to talk to him at that moment. Everything had hit you like a blow, and just like you, Jake might need some time to cool down and talk to you at the end of the party.

Waving slowly, you watched him walk away as Haechan pulled Stacy away and the others walked through the party until it was just you and him left there. Or just you, as soon as Jake walked away and walked to the bar to get something to drink. So, you allowed yourself to release all the air you were holding, refusing to cry after reality hit your mind and heart.

You believed a lie for all that time. And there was no going back now.

Jake tried to loosen his grip on the steering wheel, but his firm grip on the leather showed how nervous he still was. Spending the rest of the party brooding over everything that had happened, in addition to seeing how shaken you were by it all, made him feel even worse. He thought he would be fine after you heard that he had never cheated on you, that you had believed a lie… But he didn't feel good. Jake seemed to feel even worse after seeing how bad you were.

That was why, when he guided you to the car to take you home after the party was over, he preferred to stay quiet and let you be quiet too. The whole drive was in complete silence, with the only sounds being the car engine and the city's movements in the early morning. Occasionally Jake would look in your direction to see if you had fallen asleep or if you were okay, checking on you or waiting for you to look at him too. The only time your eyes met his was when you pulled up to your apartment, Jake turning off the car engine as soon as he parked in the parking lot of your building.

He didn't have to ask if you wanted him to come with you, because you got out first and left the keys with him, as a silent request that he could go up with you. And Jake did just that. From the hallways of the building to the elevator, going to your floor in the most absolute silence. Maybe even more than when the two of you were inside the car.

He turned the keys when you both reached your door, letting you enter first and leading the way in the small darkness that formed inside your apartment. After locking the door, Jake took off his shoes and threw his blazer next to the hanger by the door to make himself a little more comfortable as he followed you to the kitchen still without saying a word.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Jake asked for the first time since the two of you left the party after the wedding. Your eyes followed his figure who was standing in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the wood as he looked in your direction.

“I think…” you sighed, looking around after Jake held your gaze. Feeling a little shy from the intensity with which he was looking at you “I’ll make some coffee and…”

“I’ll make the coffee” Jake interrupted you slowly “Go upstairs and put on something more comfortable” he tried to sound a little softer with you, but there was still a hint of seriousness in his voice that you recognized. A palpable tension that he finally had the whole truth exposed, he just didn’t know how to act after all.

You wouldn't deny it, especially since your feet were almost killing you from the pain from the moment you took off your heels in the middle of the party. You definitely wanted to take off that silk from your clothes, even though they were so comfortable that you danced all night without worrying. But at that moment, your body just needed other fabrics. So you quickly went to your room, passing by Jake without looking at him because you knew that if that happened, there would be no way to go back or simply remember to change your clothes.

As soon as you got to your room, the first thing you did was slide the dress down your body and leave it lying anywhere on the floor. The air blowing against your almost naked skin was a soothing balm for everything you had witnessed in the last few hours. When you got to the bathroom, looking at your appearance in the mirror, Jake's idea of ​​taking a shower didn't seem so bad after all. Turning on the shower and letting the water run wasn't a thought you were reluctant to do, it had to be done. Getting all the dirt, sweat, and exhaustion off your body, both for the fun and for the mix of sensations and how sore and tired you felt. The pain in your feet went away as you squeezed them – not as gently as Jake did – with the help of the soap and hot water. Everything goes down the drain minutes later: dirt, tiredness, and a bit of sadness.

Quickly drying yourself, you grabbed a pair of old sweatpants that belonged to Heeseung and that you never let him take possession of. They belonged to you since the day you put them on by mistake at your parent's house when you and he still lived there since then those pants became yours and no one would say otherwise. For the top, the only comfortable thing you could wear was a sports bra. Without the clinging fabric of a t-shirt on your torso, you wanted something breathable and that would make you feel freer, this was perfect.

“Time to take off my makeup” you muttered to yourself after you had finished changing properly, looking in the mirror to find your mascara slightly smudged and the red lipstick already coming off your lips. You remembered the tireless hours you spent with Josie and Susan at the beauty salon that same day, in the early hours of the morning. Not even thinking that you would have to take it off at the end of it all, ending up with a beautiful job, even though you felt like you couldn’t keep your makeup on for so long.

Taking the cotton and the makeup remover, you moistened the cute object to wipe your face and, before doing so, looked at your reflection once more. Something in your mind made you think of everything besides the time you had taken to put on your makeup and get ready for the wedding. That had been the makeup for your brother and sister-in-law’s most important day, but it was also with that makeup that you faced the biggest event of your life. With that mascara on your eyes, you were able to witness the lies that Stacy had told you for so long. It was with that lipstick on your lips that you cursed her, and with all that makeup on you stared at people and saw Jake's gaze on you all night. Without being able to decipher, what he was feeling.

Everything, at that moment, was a shock and you only realized that you were crying and looking at your reflection when your vision blurred and you heard Jake calling you in the background. His hurried steps through the room before Jake's figure stopped right at the bathroom door.

“Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” the desperation in your tone, the look in Jake’s eyes as he turned you around, making you face him. This made you cry even more. Your mouth opened and closed to say something, but nothing came out, just silent sobs as you let the tears fall freely down your cheeks. “Hey… What happened?” he asked again.

“I just—” you sobbed again “I ruined everything.”

Jake’s hands found their way to your waist in a matter of seconds, bringing your body close to his in just enough space for him to tilt his face and be close to yours. Without saying a single word, he looked deep into your eyes, letting you shed as many tears as you thought necessary. His fingers held tightly to your skin and, with a small push, he picked you up and placed you sitting on the bathroom counter.

“Ruined what, exactly?” he asked, taking the cotton from your hand. Jake wet the makeup remover again and straightened up between your legs to take off your makeup for you. A few days ago, this position between the two of you yielded something beyond what was happening, and butterflies in your stomach hit you at the thought of it. But there he was, with the utmost sweetness and affection, carefully passing the cotton pad over the entire length of your face. Completely the opposite of what he had done to you last time.

“Us” you answered when Jake passed the cotton pad over one of your eyes, forcing you to close it so he could remove the mascara. You heard him sigh right in front of you, the air blowing against your face due to Jake’s proximity to you.

The silence that settled between you was strangely comfortable. Now and then your sobs could still be heard as you tried to normalize your breathing and stop crying. Jake was completely focused on wetting the cotton pads, removing your makeup, and making sure you were clean and comfortable enough. Once everything was over and he threw the rest of the things in the trash, he remained with his body still between your legs.

“You didn’t ruin us” he finally replied, his hands resting on your thighs instead of touching the marble of the bathroom sink. Jake’s fingers, although blocked by the sweatpants you were wearing, were a warm and comfortable touch. Something you missed and only realized the last time the two of you had a little more contact.

“Of course” your eyes burned again and your vision became blurry again. Jake’s figure in front of you was like a blur when you felt like you were going to cry again. “I spent all this time thinking that you—”

He knew what you would say, but he didn’t want to hear it out loud. It was a past completely behind him, one that Jake didn’t want to dig up and much less make you remember. So the only way for it to end was when he touched your lips with his. A soft kiss, placing his mouth on yours and slowly sliding the tip of his tongue along your lower lip. It didn't take long for your passage to be accepted, letting him guide the kiss while one of his hands came up to hold your face. He held you in his hands with such care, kissing you and making you feel every little touch.

That should have calmed you down, but it made you shed the tears that still insisted on appearing. Jake felt each one of them between the kiss you shared, each time softer and slower, the movement of your tongues in sync as he let you feel each small slide of his mouth against yours. When you both needed to compose yourself, Jake pulled his lips away from yours enough so that you could both breathe. Still keeping your mouths closed and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“You know what?” Jake said, still breathless and a little hoarse. You just murmured in agreement, letting him continue his train of thought “When we started dating, one of the first things Heeseung told me was that you were the most stubborn person I would ever meet in my life.”

“Really?” you opened your eyes in shock, staring at Jake who was still between your legs. His lips reddened and smiling at you.

“Really” he kissed your lips once more, his hand still on your face caressing your cheek and sliding his thumb to your lower lip “What happened in that locker room was shitty and I don’t blame you for feeling that way. I just…” he took a deep breath, his hands finding their place back on your waist. “I needed time until I made you listen to me. I would never rest until I knew I would never do that to you.”

It was your turn to pull Jake into a soft kiss, just to feel his mouth against yours again. The slow, calm slide of his mouth against yours before you pulled away.

“Do you forgive me for being so stubborn? For wasting our time?”

“I have nothing to forgive you for, baby” Jake took a few steps back, his mischievous smile making your heart race a little faster than usual. “By the way, I have something for you.”

“For me? What is it?” you asked.

“I’ll be right back” Without giving you a chance to answer, Jake ran out of the bathroom, leaving you still sitting on the sink counter. You decided to go downstairs and walk to your room, trying to think of what he could have for you. It couldn’t be coffee, because the cup he brought was resting on the nightstand on your side of the bed. Running to the bathroom while you were crying made him completely forget about the drink there, maybe it had even gone cold. You didn’t care, after all.

Jake’s footsteps were heard on the other side of the door and, before you could walk a little further and open it, he did it himself. One hand was hidden behind his back as he entered your room.

“What’s all this suspense, Jake Sim?” you raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical about all the mystery surrounding the two of you. Jake chuckled softly, walking slowly but nervously towards you until he stopped right in front of you.

“I bought this because I knew I could give it to you one day” he said softly, not quite a whisper, but his tone was still soft. Jake’s eyes were focused on every corner of your face, wanting to convey a little of everything the two of you had shared so far. Or at least try to understand a little of the emotion he felt after everything that had happened.

He pulled away until he showed you what he was holding and, as soon as you saw the only orchid he had between his fingers, you almost cried for the third time that night.

“Jake…”

“It was the flower of our relationship, I—” he held it out to you, letting you take it and smell it as you always did with every orchid he gave you over the years. The characteristic smile that showed you were truly surprised, but without a single word to express what you were feeling. While your free hand went to his face and caressed Jake's cheek, the skin against your fingers so soft “I bought it the day we went to see things for my sister. I thought I could give it to you at some point.”

“Did you think it would be soon?” you asked.

Jake took a step forward, getting close enough to be able to hug your body with his.

“I didn't think so, but I hoped it would be. I couldn't stand being away from you anymore with all these wrong and poorly explained things” he huffed, his forehead pressed against yours when Jake's head leaned forward to get even closer to your face. You allowed yourself to laugh for the first time since you had arrived home, holding the flower tightly in one hand, while the other still held Jake's face.

“So go take a shower, take off those wedding clothes, and stay with me in bed all night.”

“Just tonight?” Jake asked, pouting. Which didn't last long because you broke it with a quick kiss.

“As long as you want…”

“I think my whole life is perfect for me” he shrugged, kissing you once more before pulling away and quickly taking off his white shirt. Both because of the shower he was looking forward to taking and because of the lack of contact with you.

Jake wanted to make up for lost time and everything you two didn't experience because of the lies that surrounded you, him, and your relationship. A silent promise that, even if you were stubborn, you would never stop believing in him again.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[clare-875]

Wait, I'm Sorry (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Summary: You get hurt after an argument. Warnings: Angst/Fluff, Descriptions of injury, some swearing, Gojo being kind of unreasonable in the beginning, Canonical violence [JJK Masterlist] _____

The atmosphere was tense within your home. You hated it, you hated feeling the trepidation churn in your chest as you watched silently Gojo's unusually rigid form. You are standing as you look at him sitting on the living room sofa and his sharp eyes glowing with his anger. They are trained purposefully on the ground before him, like he hadn't just spat cruel words at you. Suddenly, the lovely evening that was supposed to be spent felt heavy with the built-up tension. Suddenly, the beautiful dress you picked up and the makeup you perfected on your face was ruined with tears and the angst of the evening. What had happened? What had happened to the compliments on your form earlier that evening, the words "stunning," "beautiful," and "love" whispered in your ear. What had happened to his arm wrapped around your waist as he took you on your weekly date? What happened to the flowers that still lay within a vase, your favourites, ones he had given you mere hours ago. Why was he being so cruel now, because of something you couldn't control.

"Satoru, I'm telling you, you're overreacting." Your voice is sullen now as your tears make exhaustion creep up on you after the half-hour spent now arguing. "He was just-" Satoru's eyes are narrowed as they turn to you quickly, and your heart drops at the sight of his irritation. It was a sight of anger you never had seen pointed at you, and you felt sadness creep up at the fact that now you knew what it was like; what it was like to have the 'strongest's' eyes look at you in a way that didn't reflect love and devotion. "You didn't see him [y/n]! He was basically undressing you with his eyes in front of me!" You groan now sharp irritation ringing in the back of your head at the same scenario brought back and forth. "And what did you do?! You fucking smiled at him!" Your body is now consumed with rage as you turn to your boyfriend and his incessant words, his blunt and stubborn reasoning. "Yes Satoru, I smiled because he was our fucking WAITER, and he was being polite!"

Satoru rolls his eyes.

"You know what, I'm done." You turn, lips tugging downward at his childishness that returns when he can't see reason past his daftness. "Come get me when you actually want to have an adult conversation about this." You gather your purse and make a beeline for the door, but Satoru's eyes are still trained on you angrily. "[y/n], I'm not done with-" You turn to him sharply then, your own anger and disappointment seeping into your gaze, seeping into his eyes. "I'm done." With that, you slam the door closed and you leave Satoru looking wide-eyed at the spot you just were. He feels an unfamiliar grip on his chest as he looks at the lack of you now in his home following the lack of a beautiful evening. But Satoru can't help it. Even if it had all been in his mind and even if he had taken it too far, all he imagines are his eyes looking at you with a spark of desire he knew too well. All he saw was his smirk, one that rose subtly enough so that only Satoru could see. All he saw was your angelic smile pointed at him like his thoughts were shrouded with the mere innocence of pouring you another drink. So, Satoru stays put despite his body telling him to get you before you leave.

But he remembers your eyes, angry and disappointed.

You, on the other hand, make your way to Shoko's place and she is surprised when she sees your tear-stained face at her doorway but ushers you in. "What did Gojo do this time?" Her eyes are narrowed as she thinks of the white-haired man, so undeserving of you, or at least in her mind he was. You wipe your eyes quickly and shake your head letting out a long sigh. "It was so stupid." You mutter disbelievingly at the ceiling as Shoko nods her head in grim understanding. "Well, you're welcome to stay the night, you know that." You smile gratefully at your best friend as you nod slowly. "Thanks, Shoko." She grins half-heartedly as you watch her go back into the depths of her home and see the swipe of her hand as she pulls out a cigarette, leaving you be. However, when you got yourself ready to go to bed that night, you slept terribly and he did too. You hated it; the lack of his warm arms and the cheesy lines he'd say before bed. He hated it; the lack of your sweet words and your loving gaze lulling him to sleep. He would apologise in the morning, he thought to himself.

But he never got the chance.

You were awoken to a call early in the morning and your eyes were weary as they shot to your bright phone in the depths of the dark dawn. You half expected it to be Satoru, but when you look, you see that it is a number retained for your work. Sure enough, when you pick up, it is for a job to exorcise a grade-two curse causing a reign of terror in a nearby abandoned hospital. You were a semi-grade one sorcerer and the only one with an apt grade who was free for the day. You sigh heavily and despite thinking you would have the day free, you decide that maybe you could use a win. So, you leave a note for Shoko thanking her and asking her to inform Satoru if she has the chance. Then, you quickly make your way to the Jujutsu High School for your uniform and further details. However, when you finally do make it to the abandoned hospital in the early shine of the rising sun, you notice instantly that something is wrong. You feel it brimming within the atmosphere, an untold power, an untold curse that felt too strong to be a second-grade curse. But before you can contemplate the situation further. A curse appears from the depths of the floor.

You quickly ready your weapon and soon, there is a multitude of smaller curses building upon smaller ones, gurgling incoherently and its disfigured form towering over you. You grit your teeth but ready your cursed technique. This wasn't the one you were worried about. You dodge an incoming attack and strike your weapon, but you defeat the curse after only a small number of attacks. Soon, all that is left is a muddle of its remains slowly disappearing into the floor, but this was all too easy. You know the fight's not over, and you are right. "Help me." You turn quickly at the sound of a child's voice in the barren hallway, your eyes sparking wildly at the trembling of it. The reports said nothing about hostages. "Help me, please." You start to run swiftly through the cool corridors left with built-up mould and cracks. You follow the voice as it calls out to you louder now, more rapidly.

Thinking back, you really should have been a bit more weary.

As you rip open a door, the sound of the child reaches your ears and your eyes spot a small young girl with teary eyes and soft blond hair looking at you desperately. "Please, please help me." Your eyebrows furrow at her form slightly dirty and eyes that reflect despair. "It's okay," your voice now reaches the air as you slowly approach her from the door cautiously. "Everything's going to be ok-" You are slammed into the wall from your side so rapidly that you can't even react. For a moment you're confused, and then you feel the pounding of your head and the gut-wrenching scream you stifle in your throat at the pain. The pain that now seeps through your body. Your mind whirls and your vision sways as you desperately try to get a grip on your reality, but your form is betraying you. "Help me." Your eyes go to the girl that had been in front of you but you watch wide-eyed as she disappears from sight. More like, she had never been there in the first place. It was all a trick of your mind, a hallucination put in place by the curse that looms in the corner of the room before you.

A special grade curse.

Your breath comes in rapidly as you watch it smile wickedly at you, and you groan as it slowly approaches you as you wrestle yourself from the floor and try to move. But you are too slow. The curse lets out an intolerable blow and you feel yourself break through walls and you feel your blood start to mingle atop your skin. Your vision blurs from nothing to the blurry scene of the special grade curse slowly approaching you. I'm dead. Your mind buzzes and you feel your eyes slowly start to lose their will to be kept open. I'm so dead. I couldn't even do a single thing... Your mind then flashes to a pair of bright blue eyes, to the smile you adore. Satoru... what would he say? You groan as your breath shakes at the weight of your injuries. You then feel your hands reach for your phone and you are surprised to see it unshattered after the multiple hits you undertook. You press the speed dial and bring it shakily to your ear as you watch your death approach you. It rings once, it rings twice, and then you hear it, his voice, so comforting it almost makes you cry.

"[y/n]?"

There is silence as your heart thrums faster at the impending defeat that looms and you say two words that you never thought you would say so bluntly to your boyfriend, even when every day he swore to keep you safe. "Satoru." Satoru's eyes are wide when he hears your stuttered gasps and the strain in your voice as though you were in pain; you are in pain. His heart pounds erratically and he knows instantly there's something horribly wrong. "[y/n]! What's wrong?! What's happening?!" Your mind slowly starts to turn dull as you can't even keep your eyes focused on the curse that comes before you. "Save me." With that, your phone falls limp to the floor and you don't hear the screaming that takes place from within it, or see how Gojo almost loses his mind. But as your mind whirrs and you see the building power of another cursed technique before you, your thoughts are only of him. So as consciousness fades and you finally let yourself delve into peace, you think it is a final blessing, a rare kindness of the curse when you see a flash of white hair and movements you could recognise from anywhere.

Because it has to be another hallucination.

You feel it then, arms wrapping around you and words shrouded with grief. "Baby, please, wait, I'm sorry." He blabbers and his crystal eyes are broken in his tears. "[Y/N]!"

The Gojo Satoru sobbing over the top of you, what a beautiful sight to die to.

.....

You hear it first before you see it. Pain. But it wasn't yours. There is a steady beep in the background and though your eyes are closed you wonder if life had actually gifted you more of it. You hear the steady rise and fall of your chest and you feel the steady squeeze of your hand.

You hear unsteady words, murmuring with loss.

It had been years since Shoko had seen his crystal eyes so broken as he turned to you, endless streams of tears tearing away his usual composure. His gaze is wide and full of fear so unnatural it makes even her, unbearably uncomfortable. "Gojo I know you're worried but you need to leave you can't be-" She is cut off when he looks sharply at her, form taut with dread and trauma. "Shoko, I-I can't what if she, what if she doesn't-" Shoko sighs as she looks at him and finds her own heart constricting when she looks at your seemingly unconscious form resting from injuries she had worked tirelessly to heal. Shocked was an understatement to how she felt when Gojo brought you in battered, bleeding, bruised; almost dead.

"When she wakes up, come get me."

With that, Shoko leaves with a pack of cigarettes in her hand, already blowing on one before she even reaches the door. Unbeknownst to them, you are trying desperately to move. Amid the quiet of the room, all you hear are the murmured words of your boyfriend; the 'strongest' begging you to come back to him. You finally succeed when you lightly squeeze against his hand and your eyes flutter open to unbearable light. "[y/n]..." Satoru's tired eyes are on you instantly and you meet his gaze with a half-smiling, half-grimacing regard. "Hey, S-Satoru." He moves up from his seat abruptly and wraps you around him tightly. His infinity is off as he desperately tries to feel you alive and well beneath him. "Satoru... l-life-threatening injury..." You wheeze out as his gaze widens before quickly releasing you of his form, still drowning in relief. However, as he breathes in the reality of you, a flash of realisation seems to hit him. "[y/n], I'm sorry, I let you go after a stupid argument, and if I didn't maybe then-" He starts to ramble; Gojo Satoru is lost for words. You stare at him; eyebrows furrowed, gaze adverting.

You look at the trembling of his hands.

"Satoru," you call out to him and see the rare seriousness that encompasses his gaze and the questioning look in his eyes as he turns to you. You know of his past; you lived it with him. So, you know how much this all may have impacted him. "It's okay," you say breathlessly before you feel a slight pounding in your head making you lean back down. "It was just all so stupid," you then reach for his hand once more and Gojo returns your grip quickly, his crystal gaze on you. They were filled with worry and apprehension, but they were filled with love and devotion once more; all for you. "Thank you, for saving me." You whisper and you finally see the slight upturn of his lips as he looks to you upon your bed. But you also see the severity of the worry and dread he held onto. "Don't do that again," was his only reply. You smile at him teasingly as you reach out to wipe away any remaining tears. He then leans forward slightly and cups your face in his hands, pushing away at the hair that lingers upon it. He allows himself to calm down as he gazes at you in front of him, safe and sure. He had almost lost you, he would never allow such a thing to happen to you again. His lips capture yours and you return his fervour to the best of your ability. His hands are gentle as they cradle your form and you feel your own hands carve their way gently through his hair. The both of you are lost in each other for several long moments. Or, until Shoko returns to the horrendous sight of him on top of you.

"How many times have I said, Gojo, not in here!"

Satoru barely misses the edge of her rage, but you laugh at the sight of them, safe and loved. Gojo turns to you then, his own smile quirking upwards at the relief of your joy, of your blatant forgiveness. He swore never to see the look of disappointment in your gaze again. He swore he would die before he saw your form withered in his grasp. When Shoko finally calms down enough to continue her examination, relief brimming in her own gaze as she looks to you, his gaze does not falter. His promise lingers silently in the air.

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 6

i get it now

series masterlist | previous part | next part

a/n: OKAY OKAY this is a super fucking long chapter i am so sorry but i had to finish up the rest of the canon and add some cheeky little sam and tara moments for y'all. plsplspls forgive me.

pairing: ex!tara carpenter x f!reader into sam carpenter x f!reader

warnings: LONG ASS CHAPTER. cursing, threatening language, gun usage, knife usage, major character deaths, stabbing, blood, gore, descriptions of murder, straight up murder. 6.7k words.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

“you’re not woodsboro.”

sam’s voice rang in your ears as your head pounded. you were in pain, your arm stung, your eyes felt heavy. it’s like you were coming out of a coma.

when you regained consciousness, you saw that danny was already awake. you tried to speak but you found that there were several layers of duct tape holding your mouth shut. you tried to move then realised you were restrained— that’s why your arm hurt so much.

you were tied to something. you tried to turn your head and you felt a rough, coarse material against your cheek. looking further, you were tied to a mannequin.

you turned over to danny and saw that he was trying to figure out where you were. the room was nearly completely dark, you guys were working only with the light that was shining through cracks in the door.

you deduced that you were probably inside the theater, you were just unsure about where exactly. you knew how you got here, it wasn’t hard to figure that part out. a part of you was frustrated that you allowed it to happen.

you heard commotion outside. it sounded like rattling.

and then it was screaming.

it sounded like tara for a second, you tried to fight against the rope that tied your hands together. you had no idea what was happening out there but there’s no way it was any good.

as the sound got further away, the door clicked open, revealing bailey.

you tried to speak against the tape on your mouth, asking him for help. as he tilted his head, looking at you mockingly, you quickly put together that he wasn't here to help.

"you were just too easy of a target." he said, the shift in his tone was unmissable. he had gone from a man that you relied on to a ruthless killer. "and now sam is gonna suffer the consequences of her actions."

he was a ghostface walking in to collect you and danny. danny tried to fight against the movement but you knew it was no use. the ghostface wheeled you to the stage, setting you on the right side of the glass enclosure that held billy loomis’ get-up. danny was placed on the opposite side.

god, you felt like you were about to throw up. they trusted him. you even trusted him. he was police, he was supposed to make you feel safe.

you suddenly felt a mesh fabric fall over your head. you were wearing one of the ghostface cloaks. you had no idea who it belonged to but you were uncomfortable knowing it belonged to someone that died.

you saw him do the same to danny. your cloaks looked similar, as if they were a part of a matching set. you looked straight ahead and squinted your eyes. the lights were blinding, the fact that there was a sheet in the way wasn’t helping.

you managed to make out shadows running towards the cinema’s entrance door. two, to be exact.

when the doors swung open, you saw sam and tara running into the room. where was chad? and mindy? and ethan? and kirby? you had too many questions. they were down too many people.

strength in numbers.

suddenly, you heard footsteps trade places with each other. one was running towards you and the other was walking away. someone in a ghostface attire brushed past you, you turned to see bailey walking backstage.

you watched as the ghostface leaped down the stage through the sheet. you only had a sliver of vision to work with. you tried crying out again once you saw the two girls come closer, but it was no use. they were too occupied by... two ghostfaces?

fuck. there were three of them.

only two sisters.

a gust of wind opened up more of the sheet. you watched as sam grabbed two bricks and handed one to tara. smart girl. you heard tara cry out for her sister, you felt yourself start to cry at the girl's helpless pleas.

"ready?" you heard sam ask, it was only met with tara's breathless sobs. "i need you to be ready. you ready?"

they were about to fight. you were scared shitless. they had bricks. the killers had knives. it could go any way. you knew that the girls were more than capable, but that didn't stop the images of their dead bodies on the carpet flooding through your head.

"come on motherfucker!" you heard tara scream. there she fucking was. a fire in you was lit when you heard that, you felt yourself ready to spring into action the second you were free.

suddenly, gunshots.

"it's okay!" you heard kirby walk out from the other side of the sheet. fuck, if only she saw you.

"stay the fuck back!" sam yelled at her. what the fuck was going on? why did sam suddenly distrust kirby too?

"we know it's you, kirby." tara said. you saw sam step back, bringing tara along with her.

bailey must have said something to them. him and kirby were in the same field but they butted heads too much. you knew he would try and turn them against her.

"somebody knocked me out!" kirby said in a begging tone, she needed sam and tara to believe her.

"kirby, stop!" you heard that deep authoritative voice again. he switched over too quickly. "get away from the girls!" you saw him come down the aisle with his gun drawn.

"what are you doing?" kirby asked him.

"did you kill quinn? did you kill my daughter?" his act was convincing. if you didn't know any better, you'd believe him too.

wait. quinn. why would he kill his own daughter? unless... oh my god.

"jesus christ!" kirby exclaimed. "whatever he's been saying to you, please don't listen to him. he's probably the killer."

please, please, please.

believe her. please.

the sheet covered your vision again, you had no idea what to think when you heard "behind you!" and three shots fired.

when your field of view increased again, you realised kirby was nowhere to be seen.

no!

you couldn't make out anything more. you heard faint voices but not enough to make anything clear out of it. for a theater, it had horrible acoustics.

you watched as the reveal happened.

ethan went first. he took of his mask, a sinister smile on his face. mindy was right, she was always right.

"fuck it felt good to kill him!" was the only thing you could make out from ethan's speech. him? chad? you had no idea where he was. you hoped that he didn't mean chad.

and then there she was, in all her very much alive glory. quinn.

you knew he wouldn't kill his own daughter.

it was eerily impressive, how they faked her death. you had to hand it to them for that one, it broke hearts. it tore down their morale.

you saw ethan and quinn disappear from your view, replaced by bailey wielding billy loomis' mask, handing it to sam. he wanted her to put it on, she looked repulsed by it.

"if you don't put it on... well..." ethan and quinn worked together to yank the sheet down, revealing you and danny. two spotlights were pointed directly at you. there was also a series of clips projected onto your skin, you couldn't make out exactly what they were.

sam and tara turned around to face you. the looks on their faces were a mix of things; fear, anger, worry, and most importantly, regret.

you were crying.

crying so much that your chest felt tight.

sam wanted more than anything to just run to you and set you free. she owed you a million apologies when you got out of this, but it was her call that ended with you in this position, so she didn't know if you would ever forgive her.

and tara would never forgive her either. seeing your snot and tear covered face broke her to pieces. she still cared for you, and she never wished this on you.

"we have two of your very dear friends to use as leverage!" bailey laughed, stepping closer to the two girls. "the more the merrier!"

quinn stepped closer to you, roughly ripping the tape off your mouth. the skin that held the adhesive grew hot, stinging. ethan walked back down the stage to join his father.

your voice was choked down by saliva and breathlessness, but you still managed.

"sam!!" you shouted at her. you were going to say more but quinn stepped behind you, holding a knife to your throat. you backed your head up as far as you could against the mannequin.

"stay the fuck away from her!" sam barked an order at quinn. but quinn knew she had the upper hand.

"hey tara!" quinn called out to the younger girl. tara turned to look at her, a glare on her face.

"the fuck do you want, quinn?" tara hissed at her.

"isn't it ironic that she's wearing your girl's cloak?" quinn tilted her head. "we thought it would be a little bit symbolic. you wanted her to be so much like amber and now here she is, sporting her wardrobe."

that was revolting. you wanted to take this thing off and take a five-hour long shower. you wanted to claw and itch at the fabric until it was torn into shreds.

"and not just that! sam... your boy toy is wearing richie!" ethan covered his mouth to mock snicker at her. "it's just too good!"

"you made it so easy, sam. when you made that call to leave them outside? we thought we would have to work harder." bailey sneered. "i bet you're regretting it now."

he was right. she was regretting it. she should have trusted you. and even if you ended up being the killer, she would have found a way. sam always finds a way.

"why the fuck are you doing this? you did this as a family?!" sam asked bailey, simultaneously spinning around to keep an eye on you and danny as well.

"oh yeah, bitch! you should know better than anyone!" quinn snapped at her.

"they're still not getting it!" ethan ridiculed them.

"i don't know what you believe but i didn't commit those murders in woodsboro! it wasn't me!" sam was trying to multitask figuring something out, how you could all get out of this alive.

"of course you didn’t! you think this is about that conspiracy theory bullshit?" bailey scoffed. "who do you think started those rumors about you in the first place?"

from behind you, quinn raised her hand.

"do you know how easy it was to turn sam from the hero of woodsboro to the villain?" you weren't surprised. you knew how tech-savvy quinn was, even outside of ghostface. "how easy it is to convince the world to believe the worst in people rather than the best?"

while ethan went on about destroying someone's character, your eyes scanned your surroundings. maybe you could figure out your own way of escaping so tara and sam had less to focus on.

"ah, ah, ah. eyes up, pretty girl. can't take any chances." quinn said, nudging your chin up with her knife. she leaned closer to your ear. "you know, it's a shame tara got to you first, i think you and i could have been fun."

you rolled your eyes at her, "dream on, quinn."

"i never had a chance anyway. i heard you have a thing for carpenters." she giggled. "i wonder how you're gonna feel when we slaughter them both in front of you."

"fuck off, quinn!" you spat at her. she just laughed softly and stood back upright.

"so when dad here 'discovers' your horribly mutilated bodies posed with sam wearing her father’s mask? he’ll say some poor dumb bastard must have read on the internet that you’re the real ghostface and took matters into their own deluded hands!"

it was an interesting plan, you thought, they would get what they wanted. they would get sam out of the way and get away with their own crimes. the only way for you all to get out of it though? kill them first.

"and even better! we'll say you went crazy and wanted to relive what you had with richie, so you dressed poor danny up in his clothes and killed him!" ethan's laughter hurt to hear.

"that's why it’s the perfect alibi!" bailey was practically jumping for joy. "because like all the best lies are based on a truth - you’re a killer, just like your father was."

"don't listen to them, sam!" you interrupted him. bold, you knew. but you had to say something to get her to focus on the real goal. she looked at you and nodded.

"i'm not a killer!" sam screeched.

"yes you are motherfucker, you killed our brother!" quinn's voice was piercing your ears. she had raised her voice and you had to recoil to avoid your eardrums being burst again.

"your brother?" tara started. "your brother died in a car accident."

"people lie, tara!" ethan interjected. "our brother died in woodsboro... at the hands of your bitch sister!"

sam blinks for a beat. she looks at ethan, then at quinn, then at he detective. she saw him in them. she just had to look hard enough. there was only one person it could have been.

"richie?" she pauses. "you're richie's family?"

ethan lunged forward, driving his knife into her collar. you let out a scream as sam clutched her wound, tara holding her up to support her.

"ding-ding-ding! she's getting it now!" ethan said, stepping back again.

you watched as tara and sam knocked over a statue and made their way to the side of the theater.

ethan gave chase,. tara swung a brick towards him, nearly nicking him.

"come on!!" you roared, trying to push them. you were about to scream again until you felt a sharp pain at your side. your cry of fury turned into a cry of pain. quinn had stabbed you, her knife completely inserted into your side. "fuck!" you cried out.

sam and tara both turned their attention to you. the knife hanging out of your side was enough to send both their lunches back up. sam's eyes hardened, like she was turning into a completely different person. she swore that she would wrangle the life out of quinn, even if it was the last thing she did.

"there she is." quinn smirked at sam. "there's the fucking killer."

you felt the wind sucked out of you when she retracted the blade, blood trickling down into your hipbone. the pain was unbearable, you didn't know how sam recovered so quickly after being stabbed.

"nice job with the parenting." tara mocked bailey.

"shut up!" ethan yelled, shoving tara and sam back over to the middle aisle. "get over there!"

bailey huffed. "am i a perfect dad? no. did i overindulge richie's fascination with these silly movies a little too much? maybe." he held his hand out. "for me, they're just a little dark."

you agreed with him. they made your stomach churn. you first watched them with mindy when you discovered the series of killings in woodsboro. she wanted to show you the films to give you a better insight on what happened. yes, they were overexaggerated but they still played a big part in the franchise.

"but... richie really loved them." he feigned a crying tone. "he even made a few of his own."

you realised that the clips being projected on your body were richie's films.

bailey ascended the steps, moving closer to you and danny. quinn made her way over to danny too, you knew that if the sisters tried anything, he would suffer an injury too.

"richie was a very passionate collector, as you can see." bailey gestured to the entire theater.

"this... this was all his?" sam asked, her voice stuttering.

you had grown to hate this richie guy. you hated the idea of him hunting sam down and earning her trust, only to turn out to be an obsessive creep.

"it was. and he even seemed to inspire others. so we had to kill those wannabe's... because we wanted the privilege of taking your life." bailey shrugged. "i built this shrine for him after he died to honour his memory." he turned around to watch his son's film again. "which is why this is where you have to die, sam."

"what happens next? after you're done with us, what? you just disappear?" sam asked, shaking her head.

"no!" bailey waved his hand at her in dismissal. "we gotta hurry over to the hospital to make sure mindy and gale don't pull through!"

mindy. mindy was at the hospital. you knew something was wrong when you didn't see her come in with everyone else.

"because everybody dies, sam!" bailey raised his gun to point the barrel at sam. "everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son! suffers. and dies."

"fuck yeah!" quinn and ethan cheered for their father. they were pumped up and ready to slash their knives at anything.

"now put on the mask." bailey ordered her.

you watched as sam looked at the ground. her face changed. she had all that pent up rage brewing deep down inside of her. it was reaching its boiling point. you almost leaned forward in anticipation.

"he was..." sam breathed slowly. "so pathetic."

yes, he was. cause anyone who decided that it would be fun to cross sam was absolutely fucking pathetic.

bailey stumbled over his words, his voice turning nasal. "that's... that's not true!"

sam was drawing them in, poking at all their weak spots. she was trying to rile them up then shoot them down. tara knew what she was doing, she understood her sister more than anyone.

"yeah... he was a man-baby." she prodded further, "who made his girlfriend do all the killing."

you wish you could see the detective's face right now, he was beginning to crack. you found amusement in it.

"he was a strong, virile young man?" jesus, who uses virile?

"he was a limp-dick little fuck." she stressed her words. "who cried before i slit his throat."

there she was, that was your sam. the sam that carried the rage of a thousand suns and the sam that wouldn't hesitate to use it to save the ones she loved.

"shut the fuck up!" quinn yelled from the stage, running straight towards tara. she jumped down and tara swung the brick at her. you swear you saw her teeth fly out of her mouth.

kirby suddenly rose from her state, firing bullets at detective bailey. tara ran straight for you, grabbing a blade from one of the cases. as she cut you loose, you watched kirby get tackled to the floor by ethan.

sam turned around to help her. as he plunged his knife into her, sam hit him in the head with a brick. she yanked the blade out of kirby as ethan recovered, a hand on the back of his head.

"got it!" tara declared, undoing the ropes. you put a hand to your side, it was still bleeding but you were confident you could pull through.

"go help danny!" you told her. she was about to turn but you pulled her back suddenly. "thank you. you did well." you said to her, she nodded and turned back around to run to danny.

danny ran out the back door, tara pushed a prop closet in front of it to block it. she sent him to get help and wanted to maximise your chances of getting it.

you faced sam again, only to see her jabbing her knife into ethan's chest, multiple times.

good, you should do it more. you said in your mind.

more. more more.

she stopped after tara got her attention, staring to climb the ladder to the second floor. sam ran to where you were standing at the bottom. she wanted to throw her arms around you, but you weren't even looking at her.

you wanted her to do the same but not now. she left you earlier, she left you to get taken. sure, she didn't mean to serve you up on a silver platter.

but she broke her promise to you.

you couldn't face her but you had no choice.

"i can't do it. my arm." you had been working on regaining mobility in your hand, but your arm wasn't strong enough yet.

"tara! i need your help!" sam called out to her sister, who was already up there. she then turned to you. "it's okay, we'll get you up there."

you had zero confidence in yourself at the moment. you knew it was going to be incredibly hard for you, but wishful thinking sometimes gets you places.

you put your foot onto one of the steps, using your good arm to hoist yourself up a bit more, climbing the steps you could make. you leaned back a little then lunged your body forward, grabbing the next railing. tara leaned over the banister, reaching a hand down to help you in that last bit.

you had gotten a fair amount up, before quinn suddenly shoved sam out of the way, knocking her down and grabbing you by the shirt. she yanked you down and you fell on your back, groaning.

quinn dragged you by the hair to the middle of the stage. sam was about to follow but you stopped her.

"no, sam!" you commanded her. "tara needs you! i've got this!"

she hesitated. but you were firm in your choice. you would get angry with her if you had to.

"go! now!" she made her way up the ladder and joined tara upstairs. you caught them slowly making their way through the ruins of the abandoned theater.

quinn dropped your hair and took a few paces away from you. you managed to get yourself up but you were slightly hunched over due to the pain from your side.

"hey, pretty girl." quinn taunted you. "you look good covered in blood. maybe you should join our little troupe here." she twisted her blade around her fingers.

"like hell." you scowled at her.

"what? you can't blame a girl for trying!" she chuckled. "come on, you're the perfect killer! just like sam, maybe that's what makes you good for each other, actually."

you tried to regain your breath and strength back as quinn monologued. you winced as you applied pressure on your stab wound.

"you're kind and very very injured. nobody would ever suspect you." she said, her voice turning sultry. "don't you wanna hurt tara for what she did to you? that was your first real heartbreak, wasn't it?"

she took your silence for an answer.

"don't you see? these carpenters are fucked up. they're scum. it would be so much better if the world went on without them." she pointed the knife at the two sisters. "use that fire in you."

you were letting your anger get the best of you now. you wanted to kill quinn for even thinking badly about them. but the question is, could you actually kill someone?

the thought was repulsive. you hated pain, blood, it wasn't something you could take. you didn't think you could take someone's life as easy as anyone else in the room. nevertheless, you wanted her subdued.

"shut up, quinn. you wouldn't know about fire even if it was burning your eyebrows off." you spit out a little bit of blood that was filling your mouth, glaring at her. "this is so fucking boring, you're all talk. where's the fight?"

your head turned sharply at a clattering noise. tara was dangling from the second floor, sam was holding onto her for dear life. ethan took the chance and started swinging at her feet. quinn screeched and charged at you, her blade in the air as she knocked you down to the floor with her shoulder.

she immediately went for your weak arm, stepping down on it and applying her entire body weight on it. you shouted at the sting, you felt like you were a kid all over again, remembering how you felt when it first happened.

she straddled you, one knee on each of your sides. you struggled against her as she used two hands to bring the blade down on you, you were able to get your hands to push against hers.

good! your arm was functional but extremely weak and painful. you had functionality of your fingers still, giving you less of a disadvantage.

you gritted your teeth as you tried to overpower her.

you saw tara still hanging in the corner of your eye. you had to do something now.

you swung your leg up to knee quinn in the back, throwing her off balance. you shoved her until she rolled off you. you stood up to go after her and at least knock her unconscious.

your head practically turned on its own when you heard crashing behind you. tara had fallen off the balcony and into ethan’s knife. your eyes widened as you watched the knife enter her stomach.

your attention flickered to sam on the second level who was coming face to face with bailey.

quinn battled cried behind you, recovering from her stumble. she thrusted her knife into your shoulder, you wailed out in pain. you shouldn’t have gotten distracted. you had to focus.

you kicked her again, ramming the heel of your foot into her thigh. her leg gave out, releasing her knife that was still inside you. you clamped your hand over it’s handle and pulled it out of you with a grunt.

you swerved sideways and switched places with quinn, standing directly behind her. you stomped down on the back of her other leg, getting her to kneel in front of you. you grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her head up.

could you really do it? you had the upper hand now, you had a choice to make. did you have it in you to rob quinn of the rest of her life? this was so far from how you made yourself out to be. you thrived on being good to others in hopes that they would do the same for you.

on the contrary, you were good to quinn. and here she was, ready to end your life if given the chance.

as the sight of her brother taking a blade to the mouth unraveled in front of her, you thought that maybe death was too generous for quinn. she could continue to live a life without her family. you watched as tara twisted the knife in ethan's mouth, a proud smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

you almost released quinn and succumbed to your desire to simply knock her out and tie her up so she couldn't interfere anymore.

but then you remembered.

"the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead."

and so has everyone that has fucked with them since. and so has everyone that tried to before. who were you to break the pattern?

"how do you like it now, quinn?" you leaned forward, whispering into her ear. you placed the blade against her throat. "down two brothers." you chuckled, pressing the blade down against her skin.

you watched as sam and bailey fell off the railing in a fight. sam hit the floor while the detective hit the glass case. you were worried for a split second before reminding yourself where you were. you weren't going to give up this advantage.

"and now your father will join you too. i hope you all have a nice family dinner in hell."

front and center stage, you dragged the knife across quinn's throat. the blood spilled like a gushing river. you couldn't watch even as you committed the act. you averted your eyes as you let her body drop to the floor.

you stepped down from the stage, holding onto your wounds. you let your severely damaged arm hang from your side. you felt like a zombie.

you rejoined sam and tara. you saw that tara was holding onto her own battle scar. you coughed up blood but chose to ignore it, wanting to check on the other two.

the three of you stood above the detective's unconscious body. you turned to the two sisters. this really was a damn family matter.

"so... what now?" you asked them. sam sighed softly, relieved that she didn't have to worry about two more of them anymore. she had her sights on bailey.

"i have an idea. but you and tara should take a second." sam put a hand on her sister's shoulder. tara nodded, slowly starting to make her way towards the seats. you followed behind her.

sam grabbed your wrist to stop you. you couldn't do this now. you yanked your hand away, just as she did to your hand when you tried to hold hers. she looked hurt, but understanding. she expected this reaction out of you.

"not now, sam." you shook her off. "i'm not having it."

and truth was, you geniunely weren't. you didn't want to deal with apologies right now, you wanted to make sure everyone was okay.

she was at least thankful for your honestly. she sadly nodded at you and turned back to bailey. you watched her take the stage, opening the glass enclosure that held her father's attire. she gripped it tight in her hands then put it on.

you sat next to tara, grunting as your back hit the seat. tara cautiously leaned her head on your shoulder, you found that you didn't mind the contact. you were glad that she was there with you, very much alive.

"i get it now." you murmured. "well... not to your extent, obviously. but i get it now."

she looked at you, a confused look on her face.

"never gonna be okay after this." was all you could get out.

she sat upright again and turned her body to face you. "i'm so sorry." she bit down on her lip, not knowing how to reassure you.

"we'll have each other though, right?" you asked her. she nodded quickly.

"always." she grabbed your hands, holding them in hers. your eyes trickled from her to sam, she glanced over at her sister too.

"you know she didn't mean what she said." tara turned back to you as she said that. "when she left you behind outside?"

"she definitely said it with her chest, tara." you breathed out through your nose. you know sam wanted to protect everyone, but you couldn't help but feel upset that she didn't trust you enough. "even then, she was right. i'm not woodsboro, i'll never understand fully what you all went through."

"yeah, i know. but that doesn't mean that you aren't one of us." tara said. "and she knows that. you're important to her. she was doing it to protect you too."

sam was wielding her father's own blade. she looked like she was in her element, which was strange as you never saw her as a killer. even when she did have a higher kill count than most people. but you knew it was her will power to end this whole thing that was driving her.

she walked over to the middle aisle, picking up billy's mask and putting it on herself. she looked frightening under the mask. it sent a shiver through you.

sam departed from the aisle, moving back towards the stage. you spotted bailey starting to stir, you grabbed tara and ran off. you took her to the backstage area, both of you deciding that you would stick around for sam.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

"what's your favorite scary movie?"

she embodied ghostface well. you admired her dedication to the bit. you knew it would scare the daylight out of bailey, to have the tables turned on him this time.

you watched as bailey ridiculously fired his gun at the mannequins. you flinched at the loud noises and held onto tara as she did the same. you didn't know where sam was, you were watching from the shadows.

"stop fuckin' around and show yourself!" he growled into the phone. he was trembling, sam had him right where she wanted him.

quiet.

"i’m a fucking police officer! what are you gonna do, huh? who do you think they’re gonna believe?" he spun around, trying to keep an eye on all his blind spots.

"probably the one that's still alive."

that shook him. he threw his phone away out of frustration.

from the shadows emerged sam's silhouette. as bailey turns at the last second, sam rams the knife into him. into his shoulder, his chest, everything she could get.

she was a fucking force of nature. a powerhouse if you'd ever seen one. the legacy her father held, she rewrote it herself.

she retracted her blade and lifted the mask off her face. and she was sam again. she was panting softly, the force she used to mutilate bailey took some energy out of her.

you and tara joined her on stage just as she was about to take another hit. she paused, her gaze softening at the two of you.

you looked at her. really looked at her.

you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself but you couldn't help it.

she looked good.

"my father was a murderer." she lowered the knife. "no matter what you think. i’m better than that."

bailey thanked her for her mercy. but then she looked to tara, as did you. tara tilted her head, as if giving her permission to change her mind. and then she looked to you. you read tara's expression and knew what sam was looking for in your eyes.

you met her stare, before looking away. you gave her a single nod. and you almost missed the smug smile that was plastered across her face.

"but you did fuck with our family so..."

the detective didn't even take a breath before sam jabbed the knife into his eye socket, all the way in.

he groaned in pain, his body shaking. he tried to raise his arms to fight back but it was too late.

you had looked away in time. you still felt your stomach churn at the sight of another dead body.

you heard his blood gurgle in his mouth as he took his last breath.

"nice." tara awkwardly said, trying to break the silence.

"are you guys okay?" sam asked, starting to take off the cloak.

"hell no." tara said. sam looked over to you and you shook your head too.

tara walked back down to the steps of the stage, sitting down on it.

you were about to follow then you spotted quinn's body. you felt yourself grow increasingly repelled at the sight. you reached for the sheet that was torn down to reveal all the masks and cloaks and threw it over her. it was the last good thing you'd ever do for her.

you let sam and tara have their moment to talk. you figured that they didn't have many talks together over the past few days, always being surrounded by others.

you walked over to the gate that locked you all inside the theater, hearing footsteps outside.

just then, ethan resurfaced, screaming his lungs out at the girls. you were about to run back to them but he was quickly stopped by a tv flying at his head. you almost laughed.

"saw that in a scary movie once." kirby joked through her injuries.

"you'll have to show me that one." you joked back.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

danny came in with reinforcements shortly after.

you watched as tara and sam talked to kirby who was now lying on a stretcher. when she was wheeled into the ambulance, you rejoined them.

you and tara both had your left arms in casts.

"hehe... matching." you said, nudging her side. she appreciated the banter returning.

"we should try cooking together like this or something." tara's dimples were flashed at you as you saw her crack a smile.

"that could be really fun." you snickered.

sam approached the two of you and tara got the hint.

"i'll give you two a second." she said, walking away and towards a group of officers.

sam rubbed her hands nervously, not knowing what to say to you.

"i'm sorry for leaving you." she started off. you admit, it was a good start. it was what you wanted to hear. unfortunately, she wasn't going to get a pass.

"you broke your promise to me." you gritted your teeth at her. "you said you wouldn't leave me alone."

"i know, i know. and i regret it. so much." she bit down on her bottom lip to try and stop tears from falling.

"i opened myself up to you, sam!" you choked down your own sobs. you were so afraid that you were going to die without saying anything to her because she left you behind. "i thought we were... i thought we had something!" you prodded your pointer finger against her chest.

"we do! we do have something!" sam dropped her jacket, opting to grab your hands and hold them against her. "i never meant to make you feel like i didn't want you. i just wanted to protect everyone. i thought that by leaving you behind, you wouldn't be hurt." she shook her head. "i never meant any of that, i just knew you would be determined to join us inside. and i couldn't have you hurt."

she was so sweet sometimes, she knew exactly what to say to pull you in. you were still angry at her, but you saw where she was coming from a bit clearer now.

you scoffed in her face, rolling your eyes. "that's bullshit!" you sneered at her. "we said we'd protect each other. i would have been safest next to you. i will always be safest next to you."

"you don't know that. this could happen again." she had to be realistic about the situation no matter how devoted you were being.

"i know. and i will be right here no matter what. the least you can do is return the favor."

"okay... i'll never leave you behind ever again." sam said, kissing your knuckles.

"you can do better than that." you grumbled, not wanting to settle for just a kiss to your hands.

sam grinned at you, stepping closer and wrapping her hands around your waist. she pulled you closer and captured your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. she was being gentle with you, trying not to hurt you. you found it sickeningly adorable. it was a juxtaposition from the intensity you saw from her earlier. your good arm wrapped around her neck, pulling her in closer. it was your way of saying that she wasn't going to break you.

"chad!" you heard tara yell. you quickly pulled away and saw chad being wheeled out on a stretcher.

thank god.

you and sam jogged over to chad.

"how are you alive?" sam asked. he raised his hand with four fingers up. mindy quickly came running in.

"are you guys okay?! i know who the killer is! it's ethan and bailey!" she said, stopping in her tracks.

"and quinn." sam added.

"and quinn? fuck!" mindy's hands slapped against her side in frustration. "did i miss the monologue again?"

you smiled at the sight of the four of them together. mindy was mumbling incoherent words to tara and chad. you giggled softly as she exclaimed that you all made it out alive.

you turned to sam again, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"hey, you." you poked her side, trying to get her attention.

"yeah?" she asked, turning to you with a smile on her face. it was to die for.

"i'm kinda starving." you chuckled, your stomach grumbled. fighting off a masked killer was hard work.

"okay well, we can go and get something to eat at the hospital." sam suggested.

you groaned softly at her not getting the memo.

"okay. that's fair. but i'll be kinda starving in a few days too so how about we go on an actual date then?" you flashed a sheepish smile her way.

she laughed at your attempt to ask her out.

"okay sweetheart." she pressed a kiss to your temple.

"promise?"

"hell yeah."

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

authors journal OKAY I KNOW IT LOOKS LIKE THE SERIES IS DONE BUT IT ISNT I PROMISE I HAVE LIKE 3 MORE PARTS UP MY SLEEVE. anyways i am SO SORRY for how long this chapter was, bailey fucking talks so much in the movie and i was trying to keep a lot of the final fight elements in. this literally took me a full 12 hours to write. anyways, back to MY yapping this time. i figured i should probably mention that i didnt forget about the tara kiss and i will bring it back for later. its my secret mousekatool. i also wanted to talk a bit more about the title of the series. i was thinking of changing it to 'promises, promises' cause obviously thats a thing with sam and the reader but i actually got it from a song! it's this one right here.

it actually has nothing too much to do with the series itself but i love the song heaps and i think the reader would too. its about getting away from something that was ruined for you by a relationship, i think thats pretty symbolic still. i also really wanna know what side stuff you guys want! i do have a few headcanons that i wanna write up but i wanna know if there's anything specific you want like blurbs or specific headcanons. i have one for 'if the reader chose tara' coming up which is pretty fun. overall, i hope you guys have been enjoying so far and i wanna hear everythinggggg you guys have to say. whether its in comments or reblogs or my inboxes, i'm so happy to read all of it. anyways, i shall stop yapping now. much love to everyone that has supported me in this so far. xx.

[ssour-apathyy]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ fangs and forgiveness

vampire!vi x vampire!caitlyn x vampire hunter! reader, detailed descriptions of violence, blood, fighting, death (not reader or caitvi), use of y/n, reader is referred to as daughter

word count; 3,949

summary; as a vampire hunter hot on the trail of your latest catch, you meet two "monsters" who change your world view forever

a/n; i think that i mayhaps got a little carried away with this one LMAO. thank you to the anon who made this request, i had a lot of fun writing this one. sorry if the ending feels a little rushed, i had no idea how to put it WITHOUT turning it into an even longer mess

The ground was cold and damp against your skin. The harsh asphalt rubbing through your aged jeans where you sat, stoking the makeshift fire in front of you.

In the distance, you could see the small hamlet that you had been sent to investigate. A quaint, isolated place with a population of less than 100, dwindling as of late. People were disappearing, only to turn up again a few days later in some back alley as nothing but skin wrapped around bones, without a drop of blood in their bodies.

A vampire, naturally.

It was nothing new to you, having been in the game for years. Your father and his father, and so-on and so-forth, had all been vampire hunters. It was a tradition supposed to be carried on by the men in your bloodline, but you had so graciously thrown a spanner into the works when your mother had given birth to a girl.

You had a chip on your shoulder and something to prove. So, if nothing more than to spite the man who said you couldn't, you became the most decorated hunter in your family's history. A shelf within your home lined with large glass jars, each filled to the neck with fangs. One fang from every vampire you cleansed from the earth, as physical evidence of your successes.

Even then, it wasn't good enough. You were acutely aware that nothing you did would be good enough for him, for the simple fact that it wasn't a son. But still, you persisted, because you refused to give him the satisfaction of actually ruining the tradition.

So here you sat, on the ground that had recently been rained on, in the damp dark of the night air, waiting. The routine was always the same. Never, ever, enter the settlement at night. Wait, and watch. And once the vampire makes its move, as will you.

── ⟢

It will never cease to surprise you how loud a human can actually scream. The second that the shrill sound echoes over the surrounding land, you're up and moving.

You close your eyes, take a breath, and let your ears guide you. Accustomed to the tell-tell sounds; the snap of bones, the tear of skin and the suckling of the blood leaving their body, it's no time at all before you find yourself peering around the corner of a house to gaze upon the monster you're hunting.

With another steadying breath, you reach inside of your coat to grip the wooden stake tightly, slowly advancing towards the creature. It stills, waiting for a moment before detaching its mouth from the victim and unceremoniously dropping them to the floor with a squelch. It slowly turns its head, snarling at you over its shoulder.

In a blink and you'll miss it moment, it lunges. You drop to the floor and roll to the side, avoiding the vampire with expertise as you spring back up, fingers tightening around the stake as you drive it forward towards the creature's chest.

Too slow.

Clawed fingers seize your wrist and twist hard, causing white hot pain to flare up your arm as the stake clatters to the ground. Before you can think, it slams you into the wall of the house, the bricks crumbling as the impact steals the breath from your lungs. Its claws move to grasp your jaw, pressing you further into the building with a snarl— flashing its fangs as it leans in, rancid breath hot against your face.

Your free hand slips a smaller stake from your sleeve, and you drive the tip into the chest cavity. It stumbles backwards, releasing its hold on you as you drop to the floor with a sharp gasp. It looks down at the small stick poking out of its body, and grasps onto it with both hands, slowly removing the wood.

It's a small distraction, but it's enough for you to unbutton the sheath on your thigh and grasp your machete, the silver blade glinting in the moonlight. As the wood clatters to the ground and the creature looks up at you, you swing.

The sound of your sharp, shallow pants is all that fills your ears as you watch the headless creature slump over in front of you. You take the moment to compose yourself before you wipe the blade clean on your leg, slipping it back into it's sheath.

The head had landed by a nearby shrub, and you collect it by holding onto one of the pointy ears, carrying it back over to the body. Propping it up against your thigh and holding it in place with your hand, you retrieve the pliers that you keep in a small pouch on your belt. Lifting the upper lip reveals the monster's most prized asset, and the jagged grips of the tool slots over the fang perfectly. With a grunt, you twist and pull, freeing it with a pop.

"Oof, that's gotta hurt."

The head drops to the floor with a thud as you whip around to where the voice came from, quickly slipping both the fang and the pliers back into your pouch. As your gaze settles on two women peeking around the wall of another nearby house, you squint.

Even in the dark of the night, you can see the un-natural red hue of their eyes, and your hand settles on the handle of your machete once again.

The shorter one, who likely realises she gave away their position, winces as she sees they've been spotted. The taller of the two steps out from their hiding spot, eyes dragging over you slowly. "You're hurt" she says matter-of-factly as her gaze settles on your arm, the blood dripping from your fingertips steadily.

"Don't think for a second that gives you an advantage" you retort, voice tight. In all honesty, alarm bells are ringing in your head. Your injured arm is too weak to help, you're still winded from the impact against the wall, and there's two of them. You have no chance of getting out of this, but you've been raised better than to back down.

She raised her hands up, palms facing towards you in surrender, as she takes a tiny step forward. "Relax. We don't want to hurt you, right Vi?"

The other one — Vi — slowly steps out from around the corner, mimicking the blue haired girl's body language as she joins her. "Right. We aren't like he was" she states, tilting her head towards the twist of limbs in front of you. "We don't hurt humans."

You scoff, the action causing the lack of air to catch in your throat and send you into a coughing fit. It's shallow and wheezy, and you curse yourself for showing weakness. "Bullshit—" you grit out between clenched teeth, grip tightening on the handle of the blade. "Goes against your nature."

"Maybe—" the taller one starts, voice as calm as a lake. "But something tells me standing here and talking to us, rather than swinging that blade, is against yours."

You don't reply, don't move a muscle as your eyes flit between the two. They don't look like any other vampires you've seen before. Almost too—

Human.

And she did have you there, you must admit. Any other time you would be swinging by now, for better or for worse. But something about them is stopping you.

"You're hurt" she repeats, her voice stressing the point as she takes yet another step towards you. "We can help you, if you'll let us."

Your father's voice is screaming at you from inside your skull.

Swing! Swing, you silly, silly girl! They are not for this earth!

The burning in your arm, and your lungs, and your lower back wins out — however — and you let go of your weapon, shoulders slumping as you release your breath. You take one step towards them before the pain and the blood loss catch up to you, and you crumple to the floor face first.

Vi is by your side in an instant, wrapping strong arms under your own to haul you up to your feet. She adjusts, slinging one arm around your back as she moves your injured one to lay across her own shoulders, encouraging you to lean on her as she takes a step towards the taller girl.

"Wait—" you gasp out, causing her to freeze. With a shaky hand you reach into your pocket, pulling out a small box of matches. You hold one between your teeth momentarily as you close the box and twist it around to the rough side. With one hand you strike the match and flick it onto the corpse beside you, the roaring flames engulfing the body to ensure that there's no coming back for the creature.

── ⟢

They had brought you to a run-down wooden cabin that was on the outskirts of the back side of the hamlet, abandoned. As Vi assisted you to sit down on the beaten-up couch, the taller girl got to work drawing any curtains and blocking all windows to ensure the coming sunlight wouldn't enter the building.

You hissed as Vi placed you down, cradling your injured arm against your chest protectively.

"M'gonna need to take this off you. That okay?" she asked carefully, grasping the edge of your jacket. Her voice was hushed, gentle, as if speaking any louder would cause you more pain.

You squinted up at her, still clinging on to the deep-seated apprehension that was tugging the back of your brain. Even if you were in pain, even if they hadn't hurt you— yet, you were still wary that they were technically your enemy and this whole thing could just be an elaborate game.

Your gaze caught her own, and her wide-eyed and questioning expression made you feel like, even if it's for a fleeting moment, that you were safe here. Begrudgingly, you nodded.

Vi gave you a small smile and an affirmative nod, and carefully moved to help you out of the heavy outerwear. You grunted as you leaned forward, your body stiff and back screaming from the earlier impact, and she was quick to slip the material down your shoulders and remove your good arm from its sleeve. Your injured arm proved a little more difficult, as it was stuck to your exposed flesh. Your eyes bore into the site before flicking up to Vi's, and you knew what she was thinking.

You gave her a nod, took a deep inhale and grit your teeth. "Do it."

If your jaw wasn't aching from the prior fight, it sure as hell was aching from how hard you tensed it now. In one swift movement, Vi tugged the sleeve down your arm and away, small slithers of material popping out of where they had embedded themselves in your arm. You refused to scream, to show that kind of weakness in front of anybody, but a strangled groan still managed to tear its way from your throat.

"Caitlyn!" Vi shouted to the other girl, who was elsewhere in the cabin. "We really need medical stuff here, it's worse than it looked!"

The monster's claws had shredded your forearm, skin torn and ripped like it were paper. If you looked really closely — which you didn't, not wanting to risk your dinner coming back up — you swear that you could see tendons.

"It will buy us some time, but isn't a permanent fix" the taller girl — Caitlyn as you now know — spoke calmly as she entered the room, her blue hair now tied up and out of her face. "This place isn't exactly full to the brim of live saving materials."

Vi steps to the side as Caitlyn takes her place, dropping the items she's holding onto the cushion beside you as she kneels on the floor in front. The red-haired girl moves away and out of your view, your eyes firmly fixed on the scraps of material and bottles that Caitlyn had set down.

You felt lightheaded, the mix of pain and loss of blood sending your brain fuzzy as you watched Caitlyn pick up the larger bottle and a small cloth from the pile. Soft, cold hands cupped the sides of your face and guided you to look away, carefully manoeuvring your head to lean back against the couch. As your vision moved up, Vi was stood behind you, looking down at you oh so softly. She moved one hand to brush your hair away from your sweaty forehead, a sad smile on her lips.

"This is gonna hurt" was all she said quietly, before a white hot burning pain engulfed your forearm causing you to strain against her with a scream. Her touch was still soft, but firm enough to keep you in place, as you almost immediately passed out.

When you came-to, you were lying down on the couch now, and a small fire was burning away in the cabin's cobbled fireplace. You groggily raised your head, lifting your arm up into your line of sight to take a look at it. It was tightly wrapped with the scraps you had seen earlier, the surrounding skin looking a lot cleaner than it did before. You made a move to sit up, groaning in pain before a hand stopped you.

"Easy, easy." Caitlyn's voice came from above you, her hand against your shoulder softly guiding you back down. "You need to rest, your body's been through a lot."

She moved to perch herself on the edge of the couch, facing you. Her eyes were soft, a tiny hint of a smile gracing her lips. She was nothing like you'd come to know from vampires — neither of them were —and the way that they'd been looking at you made your stomach flip.

"Your wound is clean, and the cloth will act as a temporary bandage, but you will need stitches. Soon." she murmured, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the material of your shirt. You took the moment to study her face, every contour and curve, the way her lips curled as she spoke. As much as you hated to admit, she was truly beautiful.

"Why are you helping me?" you rasp out before you can think about the question. "i've killed so many of your kind. Why not leave me to bleed out, or — I dunno — kill me yourselves?"

"Because that's not who we are" she answered immediately, her voice firm as her eyes locked on your own. "Vi wasn't lying, we don't hurt humans."

You paused for a moment, mind whirling. "Then how-"

"Animals, mostly" Vi chimes in as she enters the room, effortlessly sliding a chair up alongside the couch so she can sit with you, giving both of you a brief smile. "Livestock, when we can get our hands on it. Sometimes, depending on where we are an' how desperate the situation is, we'll hit up a blood bank and sneak a few bags. But never a live person."

It was quiet for a moment, the sound of the wood crackling as it burned filling the room.

"There are more of us, you know." Caitlyn adds. "Those who don't want to hurt you. It's unfortunate that the violent ones are the loudest."

You didn't know what to say. This was so alien to you, so abnormal, that you were struggling to wrap your head around it. There was no way they were telling the truth, right? You had never met a vampire that hadn't wanted to kill you. Although you had never really given them much of a chance, you supposed.

"We'll take you to our commune" Caitlyn said firmly, causing Vi to snap her head towards her.

"Woah, okay, hold on. She's still a hunter, Cait-"

"And she's injured" the taller girl retorted, turning to face her partner with a stern expression. "Even if she did want to wipe us out, which I don't believe she does, you expect her to do so in this state?"

Vi thought for a moment, her expression firm before she sighed, shaking her head. Caitlyn turned back to you, her face softening once again. "We have resources to help you heal. Properly. If you'll let us, that is."

Your throat felt tight, but you swallowed around it. "My name is Y/N, by the way" you murmur. An olive branch.

The two share a look, and then smile softly at you. Branch taken.

── ⟢

The commune was, admittedly, quite breathtaking. Various different buildings, of different sizes and materials, scattered around the land between two large hills. There were trees all around which, combined with the natural landscape, worked well to shelter the sanctuary.

It had been a few days since you had arrived, barely having seen how things operated as Caitlyn had firmly insisted that you rest once your arm was properly seen to. It was currently bandaged and in a sling against your chest, to make sure that you were allowing it to heal. They had given you an extra set of clothes, just a simple pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, whilst somebody worked on getting your ruined ones somewhat presentable again.

Caitlyn was showing you around, showing you the ropes of the small settlement. "Most of the people here were turned against their will" she explained, her voice filled with melancholy. "All of us agreed on one thing though, that we shouldn't have to lose our humanity. Shouldn't have to become monsters." She paused her steps and turned to you, one hand resting on your shoulder.

"I know it might be hard for you to believe, but that's not what we are. The majority of us are just victims of bad circumstances, who are scared and confused and don't know how to control it. That's what this place is for, to offer them a different path."

As you mull over Caitlyn's words, you glance over at Vi in the distance. She's knelt down in the grass, surrounded by 3 or 4 kids, teaching them how to properly drink from some rabbits. You had never seen vampire children before, and the picture following from Caitlyn's prior words made your gut twist.

Not allowing yourself to sit with the thought for too long, you couldn't help but settle your gaze on the short haired girl. The softness of the interaction and the way that she was so gentle with them, paired with the way that the moonlight was painting her in an almost ethereal light, caused your heart to stutter in your chest. Not that you could have noticed but from beside you, Caitlyn was looking at you the same way.

She showed you around some more, taking you to the small paddock that the settlement had, explaining how they were breeding their own livestock so that they didn't have to take so much from the humans. The more you saw, the more your feelings shifted. The more you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, they were right. That being a monster is not their nature, but something that they choose to be, willingly or not.

You stay a few more days, helping out with things where you can before either Cait or Vi catch you and guide you back to rest. When your arm is finally healed enough that you wouldn't need to be supervised, you were handed back your clothes.

You stood in front of the two girls inside their home, the fabrics bundled in your arms. "It... it doesn't feel right—" you mumble, shaking your head a little. "putting these back on. Going back to... that."

It wasn't a lie. Nothing about hunting vampires felt anywhere near acceptible after the time that you've spent in the sanctuary, after you've seen them as a mirror reflection of humanity. But that wasn't the main reason for your apprehension.

Truth be told, you had grown fond of the pair. The way they had helped you, had looked after you so gently. The way they were when helping those in need, providing assistance wherever necessary. All of it had you feeling things you'd never felt before, let alone for two people at once.

You were falling in love with them, and there was no way that you could deny it to yourself.

"Then don't." Vi spoke, voice firm enough to cause you to raise your head. There was a small, fleeting look of worry in her eyes, like you would slip away at any moment. "Don't go. Stay."

She took a tentative step forward, her eyes roaming over your face to gauge your expression as she did. Your eyes flicked up to Caitlyn, who gave you a smile and a nod, coming to stand just behind Vi. The shorter girl reached up to cup your jaw, her thumb softly grazing over your cheek bone.

The sound of the clothes you were holding hitting the floor with a soft thud was barely registered before you surged up, wrapping your arms around her neck and pressing your lips to hers. Vi took a small step back but didn't falter, kissing you back firmly as her free hand slid to your back so she could press you impossibly closer.

It was as if time had slowed to a stop, and you swear that Vi was kissing you for hours. Your breath was coming out in short pants as she reluctantly pulled away, giving a soft chuckle as you tried to chase her lips. You hadn't even managed to open your eyes as Caitlyn stepped forward, lifting your chin with her pointer finger before capturing your bottom lip between her own.

Kissing both of them was very different. Vi was impatient and greedy, kissing you like there were minutes left to live and she was adamant to die with your tongue against hers. Caitlyn was more refined, slower and more controlled. Both of them made your head spin deliciously.

You slowly blinked your eyes open as Cait pulled away, looking at the pair in front of you with a dazed expression that slowly morphed into a shit eating grin. Caitlyn giggled at that, and Vi let out a soft laugh too, and before long the three of you were stood together chuckling amongst yourselves.

The two vampires each took one of your hands in their own, interlocking your fingers as they shared a look, making sure they were on the same page. They intertwined their free hands together, the three of you molding to one another so perfectly, like a puzzle that was finally complete.

── ⟢

The three of you stood out in the street, looking down at the pile in front of you. Your hunter's clothes and gear, all the little pouches and gadgets and importantly, your machete, laying out on the hard ground. You took a step forward, twirling the match box in your hands as you took a moment to reflect.

Your father would be so disappointed.

With that thought, you took a match and struck it, wasting no time in throwing it onto the pile and watching the flames engulf your possessions.

The two vampires took a step forward, each wrapping an arm around your waist and cuddling into you, both pressing a kiss to your temples. You leaned into their touch, closing your eyes for a moment to bask in the glow of not only the fire but also their affection.

You stood there and watched as the flames consumed everything you had thought you'd known. The fire burned bright, the light from the flames dancing across your faces, painting the three of you in a new light.

[babydollmarauders]

OUT — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which everyone has been wondering about the hair tie on Jack’s wrist, and they finally get the answers they were looking for

notes: THANK YOU MADDY ( @thatintrovertedwriter ) FOR THIS IDEA!!! I’M OBSESSED WITH IT!! not proofread and written while heavily sleep deprived

a relationship was never part of my intentions when i accepted my job offer.

in fact, any sort of love was pushed to the far corners of my mind. my focus was on showing everyone that not only men can be equipment managers in the NHL.

i had gone through so much rejection. countless teams citing that they decided to go in a different direction, and hiring a male for the job instead; and though most of the staff would try to deny that my gender was a part of it, there was always that one guy that had no problem with admitting they didn’t believe that a woman had any place in the NHL.

as if the job was hard. as if i couldn’t hand players sticks just as well as any man could.

but then the New Jersey Devils came into play. they had heard some talk about me and were the first team to reach out to me. they offered me the job, and i eagerly accepted. i felt i had something to prove. my gender doesn’t diminish the performance of my job.

so most of the 2022-23 season, i put all my focus into my job. i was amicable with the players, making sure i knew any superstitions or things i shouldn’t do with their equipment, but i never let it pass into any real level of friendship.

and then Jack Hughes happened.

when he got injured and had to sit out for a few games, i was put in charge of keeping him company. for four games my job description changed from handing players new sticks, to babysitting a twenty-one year old, and i wasn’t happy in the slightest.

it felt insulting, and apparently Jack felt the same way. somehow in those four games, we went from sitting across the suite from each other, to bonding over how stupid it was that i couldn’t do my actual job, to forming a friendship.

and in a matter of weeks, our friendship blossomed into something more.

it started with him coming back to my apartment after rough games, watching movies and letting off steam by joking around and playing drinking games. then along the way, we stumbled into bed. one hookup turned into two, which turned into another, which turned into a date, and finally by the end of the season, he was asking me to be his girlfriend.

it took me a week to finally tell him yes. an entire week of struggling with the decision. wondering if, if i start a real relationship with this player, am i proving all those men who told me i had no place in the NHL, right? but ultimately, i decided that my happiness was worth more than someone’s opinion of me, and i told him yes.

***

jackhughes

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jackhughes 3/3

Load more comments

subbanator 🚀

user83 is he wearing… a pink hair tie on his wrist?

user45 where?

user83 it’s on the same wrist with his bracelets

user16 omg you’re right

user02 is his hair even long enough to put up?

user77 @/user02 apparently

user91 what if it’s a girlfriends? oh my god

brendan.brisson Same time next year

***

i’m running late.

i’m running late and i’m rushing.

i’m running late, i’m rushing, and i’m contemplating breaking all rules of the road to arrive to work on time.

nothing is going right for me today.

i was supposed to have the morning off, so i didn’t set an alarm, but then i woke up to find six missed calls from my boss and a text asking if i could come help get equipment ready for practice because one of the other equipment managers came down with the flu.

then, i had to deal with getting yelled at because i didn’t have my ringer on and therefore, woke up after practice ended and didn’t come in and help.

then, i tipped over my brand new bottle of cold brew and had to spend almost an hour mopping my kitchen floor and wiping down the counters to get rid of the stickiness.

then, at the last minute as i was stepping out the door to head to the arena, my hair tie broke. and now i’ve spent the last fifteen minutes scouring my apartment for a new one, only to come to the conclusion that i have to leave now or else risk being yelled at for a second time today.

i give up entirely on my search for a hair tie, accepting my fate of wearing my hair down and rushing out of my apartment so fast that i almost forget to lock up behind me.

when i finally make it to Prudential Center, i’m able to clock in just before i’d be considered late, and i have absolutely no extra time to search for my boyfriend amidst the chaos of the season opener.

instead, i set off straight to the equipment area, working in tandem with my colleagues to make sure every players gloves, pads, and everything in between is ready, before i put each players gear into their respective locker room stalls.

i stack pucks in a high pyramid at the bench, ready for warm-ups, and line sticks up against the glass behind the bench, all set to be handed out when needed.

amongst the frantic running around the arena and getting things ready, i lose track of how many times i’m adjusting my hair; flipping it over my shoulder and tugging it out of my face.

finally, i get a split second to breathe, pulling my hair up in a makeshift ponytail with my hands as i stand outside the locker room, on standby in case any of the players need me.

“hey.” i instinctively drop my hands at the sound of someone talking, my shirt falling back down to cover the sliver of my abdomen that had shown when they were raised.

at the sight of my boyfriend, i sigh in relief, his chuckle reaching my ears as his arms snake around my waist.

“i scare ya?” Jack teases.

his helmet hits against my back, as he holds it in one hand. he’s all geared up, ready to hit the ice for the first game of the season, and oddly enough, i can’t help finding it incredibly attractive.

“just a little.” i huff, and a wide grin spreads across his lips. i smack his chest, but all that it hurts is his padding. “don’t be mean! i’ve had a bad day.”

his smile drops into an exaggerated pout, and he leans down to press a kiss to my lips.

“i’m sorry, baby.” i hum in acknowledgment, waving it off when he asks if i’d like to rant.

“no, it’s okay. i’ll rant later.” i assure him. “after you win your game.”

“our game.” he states, and i roll my eyes.

he’s made sure to never let me forget how much work i put into the team’s equipment and gear. citing that they wouldn’t be able to win without my help.

in his eyes, it’s as much my wins and losses as it is his.

“right.” i nod, patting his shoulders. “in that case, i’m gonna be very upset if you lose our game.”

his head tips back, laughter pouring past his lips, and it sounds like a melody in my ears.

“i’m confident. we’ll win this game.” he assures me, finally letting go of my waist and backing up. “if we don’t, you and i will never hear the end of it from Larks.”

ahh yes, Dylan Larkin. the Red Wings captain and Jack’s friend, whom i met over the summer while visiting Jack at his lake house.

“go!” i shoo my boyfriend off as the rest of his teammates begin pouring out of the locker room, heading off to line up, ready to hit the ice for warm-ups.

waving to the guys, who smile back at me in return, i head out to behind the bench.

as the guys warm up, i double check the bench stock of smelling salts, tums, stick tape, skate blades, and whatever else the guys may need during the game, before standing idly by.

*

finally, the game is underway, seven minutes left in the second period, and my boyfriend has already gotten a penalty in first for ‘roughing’.

i’m watching my boyfriend skate around the ice as i tend to his teammates, anxiously holding my breath as the clock winds down.

Jack zips across the ice, and i’m gnawing at my lip as he gains control of the puck. but before i know it, he’s just scored his first goal of the season.

a small smile splays across my lips, attempting to contain my excitement as he skates past the bench, bumping fists with his elated teammates before taking another lap around the ice.

Luke turns his head to grin at me, but he’s sidetracked as i’m interrupted by a teammate.

“y/n, can i get some salts?” Timo asks, and i nod, spinning around to grab some, my hair whipping in my face as i do so.

i let out a frustrated groan, turning back around to hand the little packet of smelling salts to number 28.

“you okay?” Timo questions, his brows threading together and i nod.

“it’s my damn hair.” i huff as he moves down on the bench, making room for my boyfriend and his line mates who now join on the bench. “i usually wear it up, but my hair tie broke and it’s getting on my nerves.”

wordlessly, Jack absentmindedly sheds his gloves off, pulling something from his wrist before holding it out to me where i stand directly behind him.

my lips part in surprise as my eyes lock on the pink hair tie that’s pinched between his index finger and thumb.

my hair tie.

“oh.” i breathe out, plucking the hair tie from his grasp. i smile, immediately pulling my hair up into a high ponytail. “thank you, love.”

he turns his head just enough to spot me, beaming back at me for a moment before turning back to focus back on the game that’s about to restart.

i lean forward a little, my hand lightly resting against the padding on his back, but he must feel the slight pressure because he leans back a little to show me he’s listening to what i have to say next.

“congratulations, babe. i’m proud of you.” i speak lowly, only for him to hear, before i stand back again, as though the interaction never happened. both of us focusing back on the game that takes place in front of us.

***

***

Jack lays beside me in my bed, absentmindedly scrolling through his social media, nodding along as i rant about my day.

“…but seeing you in the box was a plus.” i finish off my long winded ramble, effectively gaining his attention back at my teasing.

he locks his phone, tossing it to the side as he looks over at me.

“what was that?” he asks mockingly, raising an eyebrow. but before i can repeat myself, his fingers are working against the bare skin of my stomach.

my abdomen tightens as i laugh, squirming and trying to get away from his touch.

“stop!” i cackle, attempting and failing to push his hands away as he tickles me.

“no, say that again!” he chuckles, maneuvering his body now to straddle my legs so that i can’t run away, even if i wanted to. i shake my head wildly. “say it again! what was that? i don’t think i heard you right! cause it sounded like you just said the highlight of your day was seeing me get penalties!”

“that’s not true!” i squeal and he momentarily ceases his attack, tilting his ear towards me as if he’s listening closer.

“i said they were just pluses.” i defend myself, quickly following up, “the highlight of my day was finding out you wear my hair tie on your wrist.”

he looks down at me with a smirk, obviously quite proud of himself.

“stole that from your apartment.” he announces with pride.

“when?” i laugh, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.

his hands now rest on either side of my head, holding himself up.

“the second time we hooked up.” he murmurs, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. “you had complained that day when you forgot you hair tie at home. i never wanted you to be uncomfortable again, so i took one when i left here that night.”

i blink back at him in surprise, my heart thumping loudly in my chest, whooshing in my ears.

“are you telling me, you’ve been wearing that hair tie on your wrist, for the past seven months, just in case i ever needed it?” i ask.

“mhm.” he hums, his nose nudging against mine as he nods, the corners of his lips quirking up in a soft smile.

“i’m so in love with you.” i whisper, pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss.

his lips slot against mine, his tongue slipping in to tangle with mine in a deep and sultry kiss, before he pulls away.

“oh good, because apparently our interaction tonight on the bench?” he pauses and i furrow my brows, nodding for him to continue. “yeah, apparently that happened while the camera was on me.”

a gasp slips past my lips, and he cringes slightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, we’ve been outted.”

we both let that sink in for a moment, pondering what our relationship will be like now that everyone knows. fans certainly analyzing our every move now.

but despite that, we can finally go on dates in public, and post each other on our social medias without panicking that we may have accidentally posted on our public stories instead of our close friends ones.

“i think i can live with that.” i finally break the silence, and he grins.

“yeah?” he questions, pressing a kiss against my lips, and i nod against him.

“yeah.”

[cryptidghostgirl]

Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Y/n wakes up, her wings gone and her mind fuzzy. What will ensue? PART TWO TO MY ONE SHOT UNDERSTAND.

Link to Part One: Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

Warnings: Uh, brief mentions of bandages and pain and stuff. Toxic relationships. Kidnapping?? What you'd expect to come after part one.

Word Count: 1,500

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N you guys have been like, breaking my door down for this one.

The world spun circles around Y/n as she opened her eyes. Memories as blurry as her vision, she struggled to bring her surroundings into focus. She could tell she was in a bed but not much else. Everything was different shades of red and unfamiliar, with a window to odd dark woods in her sight.

As the room settled into focus, the first thing she realized was that the window was not in fact a window. Instead, the room simply came to a point where the walls fractured and gave way to the outside. The second thing was that she was not alone.

"There you are, darling." came a hauntingly familiar voice from beside her, "I was starting to worry."

Everything came crashing down around her as she heard his voice. In her minds eye, Y/n watched the portal close. She saw her husband soaked in blood -- in her blood -- with that far off, crazed look in his eyes.

Alastor reached out to wipe a tear that threatened to fall from her eye and Y/n violently jerked away on instinct. Pain ricocheted through her body from the movement, stemming from the middle of her back. Emanating from the place where... she couldn't bring herself to think of it.

He let his hand hang there in the air by her face for a moment before bringing it back to his side with a sigh. Y/n turned her head to the side, her cheek pressing into the cool silk of the pillow case. She watched Alastor carefully.

There hadn't really been time when they first encountered one another in that ally to take in his new appearance. He leered over her, the same constant sharp tooth smile. Y/n couldn't help but notice that there was something there in the red glow of his eyes that was the same. It was the only thing that really remained of the man she had known. Well, that and the monocle.

"How are you feeling?"

"Awful."

With painstaking effort, Y/n pulled herself into a sitting position in the corner of the bed where it met the wall. As the blankets fell from her torso, she realized she'd been wrapped in crisp white bandages.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't give you anything for the pain until you woke up. Here."

Y/n looked up from the bandages to see that Alastor was holding a few pills and a glass of water out to her. She eyed them suspiciously.

"It's just aspirin."

"And you're just my fucking kidnapper. You're just the one person I was supposed to be able to trust completely."

Alastor's eyes fell to his hands. He took a deep breath.

"Y/-"

"You know," Y/n cut him off, her eyes falling to her hands as they fiddled with the blanket pooling in her lap, "I really thought you..."

Alastor looked over at her as her words fell off into silence. There were tears pooling in her eyes again. He didn't regret what he had done. No, it had been necessary. He couldn't lose her again. None of that mattered right now, however. It still hurt, to see her in such pain and know he was the cause.

"Thought what, my dear?" he prompted after a few moments.

"It's dumb." Y/n shook her head, still refusing to meet his eyes, "I was dumb."

"Now now, you know how I feel about you talking down about yourself. It is unbecoming and untrue."

Y/n shook her head again, letting out a small, sad, laugh. The sound was nothing more than a sharp exhale through her nose, it was rueful.

"I mean it, Y/n." Alastor insisted, "Tell me what is on your mind?"

As he spoke, he reached a hand out to her. He tried to hold her hand, he wanted to comfort her but Y/n flinched away again and so, he stopped his efforts.

"I thought you wouldn't hurt me." she admitted at last, meeting his eyes once again.

An arrow through his heart.

"I really thought you... I was so dumb."

"I'm not going to apologize." Alastor sighed after a moment, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest, "I did what I had to do."

"What you had to do?" Y/n really did laugh this time, her eyes searching the room before meeting his once again, "What you had to do, Al?"

"Yes. One day, you will realize that and you will thank me for it."

"Alastor fucking Hartfelt: no."

He stilled. It wasn't the usage of his full name, no. That he was used to hearing from his wife. She had a love of calling him it, it was a privilege in her mind. The real issue was that Y/n, the prim and proper precious girl he adored so much, had cursed. The only other time he'd heard her do that was when she had learned about his mother dying. She was serious.

"No." Y/n said again, shaking her head fervently as her gaze lowered to her lap, "I... in what world would I thank you for cutting the wings off my goddamn back? In what world.... how the fuck do you think things are ever going to be okay between us again?"

His hands slowly slid from his chest, falling loosely to his lap as Y/n met his eyes once again. She looked tired, she looked heartbroken. He hadn't meant for that.

"I..." Alastor searched for the words but they both knew there were none, "I didn't know what else to do."

"I told you I was going to figure something out!"

"And what if you didn't!?" Alastor yelled back, getting to his feet, "What if someone on your end found out and you got killed, for real killed."

He slammed his hands on the bed, leaning over Y/n who trembled slightly, her eyes wide.

"I did what I had to do." Alastor sighed, the anger falling from him as quickly as it had arrived, "Just... please. Please, Y/n. I couldn't lose you again."

Y/n's heart hurt. He was begging her. He had hurt her so much but, had the reasons really been that bad?

She knew he was right. With her plan, she would have most likely ended up dead or worse, with Adam forcing her to kill Alastor, or forcing her to try to at least.

He was begging her. He was begging her and even after what he had done, she loved him. Even after the violence, the pain, discovering his new nature, she loved him and was elated to be in his presence once again. Y/n wanted to scream, she wanted to cry. More than anything, she wanted to close her eyes and open them again to find it had all been a dream, open them to their sweet little house in the garden district -- alive.

"Please." Alastor said again, sinking to his knees as if in prayer, "Please, Y/n. I don't expect you to forgive me right away just try to understand where I'm coming from."

She watched him, his head in his hands, his eyes on the mattress. Y/n was angry. Because he was right, because she still wanted to scream, because god she just wanted him to hold her. Even knowing that he was the source of the pain, all she wanted was for him to hold her and make it all better. Because that was what Alastor did, what he had always done. He made things okay.

Life was easier with Alastor, life was lovely. Memories overtook Y/n, over took her reason and her anger and her fear. Tentatively, she reached a hand out and placed it on Alastor's head. He looked up at her, ears swiveling. Still smiling.

"Can you do anything else? Can you only smile?"

He hesitated a moment before shaking his head no and Y/n sighed.

"I..." Y/n trailed off, sighing once again.

She felt caught, trapped. Even if she wanted to go back to the hell of life as an exorcist, she couldn't. Options were limited: Alastor or alone. Y/n didn't think she wanted to be alone. Not now, not here, not like this.

"Can I have a hug?"

The question was small, her voice trembled. Alastor's eyes lit up. With a practiced grace, a practiced giving of space and time, he stood and sat down on the bed beside her. She fell into his chest, clutching his jacket as he wrapped his arms around her, careful to avoid the fresh wounds he had inflicted.

Y/n began to sob. Big heavy breaths, big wet tears soaking through his suit into his skin.

"It will all be okay." Alastor cooed, rubbing her shoulder gently, "It will all be okay."

And the worst part was, she beleived him. His words made her feel better. And the worst part was, Y/n began to smile.

----

A/N I looked up his last name and this is what the wiki said. Please don't be mad at me.

Tags:

@trashbin-nie @themoonitselff @lululucii @asianfrustration13 @sphynxtheweeb @nenerobobot @bumblebeebluebell @ast-jime @otherthoughtsofbu @sanemiswifeyxo1 @messyserver @rainyvandragon @xxwerefangxx @campgarbage @alexdelray1 @ellie-x0xo

[constantmourning]

Stress Relief

[Price/Reader/Soap/Simon]

Summary: Headcanons (almost an imagine) on sleeping with the three and how it turns out for you!

Warnings: Minors DNI! NS/FW, 18+!, M/M/M/F, Foursome, not too descriptive but still nasty, let me know if I forgot something! (haven't done this in a while)

A/N: This is my first time writing for these guys! I hope you enjoy! I'm still getting a hang of these characters but I had this idea so I went with it. I kinda fucking ran with it actually... Hope you all enjoy. Kinda wanna make it a full blown fic.

It started with Soap. Really, you didn't think it'd go much further.

You were sleeping together most every chance you got. To the point where Soap started to brag about his nights he'd spend with you to TF141.

Price began probing about who, genuinely curious. Soap would never say your name. However, you gave yourself away after a briefing and heard Price being curious about who had Soap acting that way.

"It's me." You walked up and smiled at Price. Soap was slightly shocked you had given yourself away. And was even more shocked with the next thing you said. "If you ever wanna feel just as great, give me a call." You winked at him.

Soap wasn't jealous by any means, in fact sharing you with Price was something he really didn't mind. He had not expected you to be okay with it though.

So, you started sleeping with Price.

Soap and Price were much different lovers in the best way possible. You would spend the night with Soap, him going absolutely feral over you. Then you'd spend the next night with Price. Who was not as ravenous, but just as passionate.

This went on for a couple weeks. Just you, Price, and Soap. Never had the three of you fucked at the same time. But Price had plans to change that. And Soap had something up his sleeve as well.

"Soap." Price had approached him a questioning look. "I have a question."

"Good, just who I was looking for," Soap smirked, "'cause I do too."

You were in your room when a knock came from the door. It was a free night, neither Soap nor Price were supposed to come over, so you weren't sure who the knocking could be.

When price and soap entered your room as soon as you opened your door you grew hot. "you're both here?"

"We have a proposition." Price seemed serious but Soap seemed too excited to be serious.

They both stood in front of you, so you could assume what it was. "threesome?"

Soap shook his head, and held up four fingers. Your brows knitted together and you cocked your head. Before you could say a word your door pushed open further and you turned around. Your heart jumped into your throat.

The man you had found the mysterious since coming onto base was standing there. Simon 'Ghost' Riley. You swallowed hard turning towards Price and Soap.

"Is this a joke?" No way was Simon joining in...

"No, love," Simon grunted, "it isn't. Soap 'ere won't shut up about you, so I thought I'd see what the raving was about."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Had Soap been seeing how you were staring longingly at Simon? Yes, yes he had.

"Is this okay?" Price asked. Soap and Simon waited on your answer. When you nodded, things were most definitely getting loud.

You thought Soap and Price were great? It is Simon's mission to show you how much better he is at everything.

Soap amazing at eating you out? Simon is going to one up him. Price really good at taking his time fucking you? Simon is going to show you just how much time he can to take care of you.

They let Simon do whatever he wants, Price and Soap just watching (and jerking it). But after Simon experiences you for himself, they decide to all have a go at it.

They take turns teasing you and eating you out. Seeing just how far you could go before they get down to business.

You're sandwiched between three very strong men and its very hot.

Soap is a freak (enduring) and loooooves watching Simon's large form pressing against yours while Price takes you from behind.

The guys don't leave without their dick getting sucked.

You are almost crying (positive) after they're done with you.

Super duper big on aftercare. Simon carries you to the bathroom. Soap would literally give you a bath if you wanted/needed. Price is telling you how good you were. All of them are the best...

At the end Price is ready to ask for this more often. It's a nice stress reliever for everyone. He may even ask if the others could join, for team bonding. Only if you're comfortable of course.

[pandapetals]

Greying

logan howlett x fem!reader - logan is greying, teasing, banter, cute, fluff, no mention of description of reader, no use of Y/N.

Logan is greying so you tease him about it.

read on Ao3

You stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching Logan rummage through a drawer in the bedroom. His broad back was to you, muscles shifting beneath the worn flannel shirt he always seemed to wear, the fabric stretching with every movement. You couldn’t help but smirk as you caught sight of something—just a glimpse—but enough to raise your eyebrows.

“Hey, Logan,” you called out, trying to keep your tone casual, but the teasing lilt crept in anyway.

“Hm?” he grunted without turning around, still focused on whatever he was searching for.

You stepped closer, your eyes narrowing playfully. “I think I see something.”

He paused for a second, glancing over his shoulder at you, eyebrow raised. “What?”

You squinted dramatically, leaning in like you were trying to inspect something important. “Hold still. I think there’s some... gray in your hair.”

Logan straightened up immediately, turning to face you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Really?” His tone was gruff, but there was an edge of amusement in his eyes as if he already knew where this was going.

You nodded, stepping even closer, your grin widening. “Yep. Right there.” You reached up, your fingers brushing lightly through the hair at his temples, where the first hints of silver had started to peek through the dark strands. “Looks like someone’s getting old.”

He grunted, folding his arms across his chest as he watched you with a mixture of suspicion and humor. “Gettin’ old? Darlin’, I’ve been old for decades.”

You laughed, trailing your fingers through his hair again, not missing the way his eyes softened ever so slightly at your touch. “Yeah, but now you’re showing it,” you teased, letting your hand drop to your side as you took a step back, biting back a smile. “Soon enough, you’ll be a silver fox.”

Logan’s lip quirked up in a half-smile, his eyes gleaming with that familiar, mischievous light. “A silver fox, huh?” He stepped toward you, closing the distance between you with deliberate slowness, his presence warm and magnetic. “Is that supposed to bother me?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, though your grin was widening. “Not sure. Depends if you’re feeling sensitive about your age.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, sending a pleasant warmth curling through your chest. He reached out, his rough fingers grazing your chin gently, tipping your face up toward his. “I don’t mind a few gray hairs,” he murmured, his voice low. “But if you keep teasin’ me about ‘em, maybe I should start pointing out a few things about you, too.”

You raised an eyebrow, your heart skipping a beat as his fingers lingered on your chin. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Logan’s smile deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly in a way that made him look like he knew something you didn’t. “Like the fact that you’re too good at gettin’ under my skin,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth and something more, something unspoken but unmistakable.

You laughed, nudging him playfully in the chest. “I think that’s my job.”

Logan’s hand slid from your chin to the small of your back, pulling you just a bit closer, the teasing edge in his voice fading into something softer. “Yeah, well... you’re damn good at it.”

The world seemed to slow for a moment, the humor between you dissolving into a quiet, shared understanding. The gray in his hair didn’t matter. None of it did. He was Logan, gruff and steady, the same man you had fallen for.

“Silver fox, huh?” he murmured again, his lips brushing the faintest hint of a smile.

You grinned up at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. “Absolutely.”

[lucysarah-c]

Fifteen, what an age to be alive. Dad!Levi

Summary: Steal your father's car! What could go wrong? Author note: Since the Marley world seemed to be around the 30s-40s, I’ll set this idea in a world that looks like the mid-50s. This is POST WAR. Warnings: Cursing 'cause Levi, obv. And slightly mention of a group taking advantage of a girl, nothing really happens and there's no graphic description at all. Word count: 3.9k Pairing: Dad! Levi x Mom! Reader

His hands gripped the big round wheel of the car as his eyes scanned the dark night with a nervous smile, quickly turning into clenched teeth. His attention shifted to the passenger seat, soft as if it was a scene from one of the horror pictures he saw at the drive-in.

A light blond girl lay unconscious, her head resting against the door, appearing lifeless. She wore a typical sleeveless red button-up shirt and very short white shorts, with white socks crumpled down to double-coloured loafers. Her hair was still in a ponytail, exposing her face completely. It was August, plain summer break, and he knew that most of his classmates wore shorts or even swimsuits at the pool or beach. But somehow, her exposure made him blush and feel ashamed, as if even staring felt wrong.

Turning to the back seat of the car, he picked up his letterman jacket and placed it on top of her, covering her as much as possible. It looked big on her, and somehow, Adrien blessed every deity mentioned; he probably was inheriting his father’s uncle’s height and not his father's, a fact becoming rather obvious every day, as he was only 15 and already almost 1.80m.

“Calm down, Adie… you got this,” he whispered to himself, “I’ve no idea what I'm going to do but I got it.”

How did he get into this situation? It was supposed to be a silly night out; one of his friends invited him to a party of the seniors who were graduating from high school that year. What was the issue if he was just a freshman? Fifteen, eighteen, it’s the same! Plus, it was some party at some old forgotten building, half destroyed during the rumbling around ten years ago, in the middle of nowhere. Nothing wrong with that.

Yes, perhaps he stole his father’s keys and car. Yes, perhaps he lied about sleeping in his room. Yes, maybe he stole a bit (a lot) of money from his parents. “I mean… deep down, it’s my father’s fault for not allowing me to come legally,” Adrien argued with his own reflection in the car's mirror.

But everything went downhill when he saw a group of guys dragging a girl who was clearly not feeling well and decided to step in. Now, here he was, the party had turned into a mess as the fight happened, he got kicked out with an unconscious girl, and who knew what they had given her. He hit his forehead against the wheel as time slipped through his fingers; he was supposed to be back home already.

“Fucking shit! Who told me to step in!” he cursed under his breath. Deep down, he knew stepping up for what he had been told was horrendously wrong, knowing he had the strength to fight those assholes back. ‘The curse of being a fucking Ackerman, man,’ he thought.

He had done the right thing, at least one right thing during the entire night, but now he had to face the consequences. Muffled cries mixed with distressed groans filled the car, “My father is going to kill me!”

His forehead kept hitting the wheel repeatedly as if that would knock some common sense into him or perhaps give him a concussion and fake that he had been kidnapped or something. Surrounded by trees in a dead-end road, it wasn’t even paved. Only the footprints of multiple cars to follow back to civilization. The distressed teen didn’t even know where he was; his older friend had guided him there and left with his girlfriend at some point of the party.

Slowly raising his head up again to admire the endless kilometres of dim nothing, contemplating his options, seizing his courage. “Come on, Adie. Be a man, be a man!”

The trees’ branches creaked in the middle of the night, the car slightly swayed under the strong summer wind. “I want my mommy,” he muttered.

Hand on the wheel and turning on the car, one step at a time, he took a deep breath and then decided to go out on the road again. Forgotten somewhere, his father’s car’s papers and driver's license. In them it read “Levi Ackerman.”

Each branch from the forest that scraped the car was a personal pain, praying to any god's existence that it didn’t scratch it. Of course, his father had filled up the tank, obviously he had. Levi was like that, always cautious. Adrien did a personal wish his father had a map stored in the glove compartment, but obviously, he didn’t. After all, Levi knew the streets of the city like the back of his hand. He drove a lot, especially since his legs weren’t what they used to be anymore. Perhaps he didn’t need any support for walking any longer, but walking long distances wasn’t in Levi’s plans anymore.

“Perhaps I can… drive to the hospital, leave her, and like run away,” he contemplated, before groaning loudly, “No, I can’t do that. God, I’m dead.”

‘I could have walked away, but no, Mr. Adrien Ackerman has to be a hero. Mr. Ackerman has to do the right thing.’

Adrien had driven twice in his life; this one was the second. The first was a few years ago when his father sat him down on his lap and let him do it for a little bit. He was happy he hadn’t encountered much traffic and only had to drive ahead because he wasn’t completely sure yet what the third pedal was for.

“I got it, do not worry,” he said, trying to sound reassuring to the unmoving girl on his right. Adrien’s grey eyes checked on her from time to time, but she seemed deeply asleep, or so he hoped. “I’ll get to the hospital in no time, and you’ll be alright,” he promised.

His smile created a couple of dimples on each side of his face, but it quickly faded as fear kicked in. “And if you’re not alright, do not worry. I’ll throw myself off a bridge, and we can be not alright together,” he kept joking as if, by some miracle, the girl would reply.

He didn’t even know her name, and somehow, that made him feel even guiltier. As civilization began to appear and the sky began to lighten up, he lost hope of not dying at the hands of his own progenitor, but he was also hopeful that at least he was getting somewhere without crashing. The sun hadn’t shown up yet, but the deep blue of the sky had a particular glow to it that made it imminent.

The streets were deserted, and rightfully so; it was the middle of the night on a Monday. Adrien tried to park the car as best as he could, finally reaching the only hospital he somehow remembered the route to. Rushing to the other door, he carefully picked her up.

When he crossed the doors of the main hospital, which was almost empty at those hours, the doctors on duty quickly took her in, some searching for identifications inside her clothes. The police officer at the front gates forbade him from leaving the place.

“Alright, please hand me your ID,” the front gate secretary asked after informing him that the girl was out of danger, but she would have to stay for monitoring. Adrien’s suspicious silence made the woman raise her eyes from the form she was filling out to look at him. “You know that carrying IDs is obligatory, right?”

“Yes, madam…” He felt his palm sweating as he feared being taken to the police station.

“How old are you?”

Her voice sounded calm but tired as she quickly understood the issue, “… eighteen.”

With a loud sigh, she took off her cat-eye red glasses and then slowly blinked back at him. “Look kid, I’ve been on night watch for three days straight. I’ve no energy to deal with this.”

Adrien’s eyes remained glued to the floor, feeling small despite his stature. “… fifteen,” he admitted reluctantly.

Her unpleasant groans echoed in the empty walls that reeked of disinfectant. He slowly turned to the gates, and the security guys began to chuckle as they drank coffee. Feeling the need to clarify, he said, “I swear it wasn’t me who hurt her.”

“Kid, people who drug girls don’t carry them to hospitals,” she replied disinterestedly, pouring the information into the typewriter, the typing echoing in the place. Finally, she picked up a post-it with a pencil and raised it to the top of the reception table. “Your parents' contact number, please.”

Her eyes quickly moved to him and then back to her writing as he hesitated to fill out the paper. “You know I’ve done nothing; can’t I just go?” Adrien insisted, trying to escape the situation.

“Kid, you’re breaking national curfew and walking around without identification. A responsible adult must come and sign for you to leave; otherwise, you’ll live here until you turn 18.”

“Could you at least wait until 9 am to call my mother’s work number?” He smiled awkwardly, trying to find a way to avoid his father’s rage. The secretary looked up at the clock; it wasn’t even 5 am and then back to him, deadly. Unpleasant complaining groans echoed as he reluctantly wrote his house’s telephone number. “Sorry.”

Sat down at one of those uncomfortable waiting room’s seats with a latte and chocolate donut he brought at the cafeteria, he waited as someone waits to be hanged. The doctors and nurses moved here and there attending to the few people that came in with emergencies. Until the secretary walked by and said, “Your father picked up the phone; he said that getting the car and coming this way.”

Adrien’s grey eyes quickly turned in fear to check out of the window, grimacing uneasily as he admired the family's car parked outside. “Great…”

The longer it took, the more Adrien knew he was in trouble. Pressing his eyes closed and clenching his jaw, as if he could already feel the kick in his ass. Despite the nerves, his head bobbed forward as he fell asleep, and the tug of falling forward snapped him back awake. At some point, he rested his head on the joined seat and fell asleep, mouth open.

The front gates snapping open woke him up, and he wished to make himself smaller so he could hide behind the back of the seats. But as he turned backwards, Levi was at the front desk talking to the secretary and security guards. His dark hair was a mess, and it seemed like he had just put on some shoes and a shirt because he still had the pyjama pants on. Outside, the cap that his father had probably been forced to take there.

As the secretary picked up the forms for him to fill, his father quickly raised his grey eyes to shoot him across the room the deadliest glance he had yet to witness. ‘Goodbye everybody, it was nice knowing you.’

Avoiding facing death, Adrien remained seated, giving his back, but he quickly heard the footsteps of his father, characterized by the slight hobble he had after the war. With his presence looming, he looked down at Adrien, who slowly raised his attention up.

Smiling innocently, “Hi, dad.”

Levi didn’t smile back; quite the opposite, he frowned even more and extended his right hand that was missing two fingers. “My fucking keys.”

The teen searched for them inside his jeans and quietly handed them over with puppy eyes. Levi snapped them, but his hand didn’t withdraw. “And my damn money.” Repeating the same action but with the bills, Levi grabbed them and began to count. “And the rest?”

Adrien mumbled some incoherent groans as he refused to make eye contact. “Tch,” Levi clicked his tongue and gripped his shirt neck, raising him from his seat, pushing him to the exit. “Get in the fucking car.”

The walk of shame only accentuated as his father's angry tone didn’t match the polite one he used to greet the secretary and guards on his way out. He cowered in the passenger seat, trying to make himself a tiny ball as Levi slammed the door shut. Loud sighs that didn’t withdraw the deep frown before he turned on the car again.

“You’re so fucking wrong if you think I’ll stand this type of behaviour; I'm telling you,” Levi spat the words as he drove back home. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Adrien!” Levi insisted as the kid didn’t even reply, looking to his right as he waited at a red light. “You don’t want to talk? Fine, fucking ungrateful brat. You know how fucking worried your mother was when we received a call from the shitty hospital? Eh?”

“The drive-in the other day, the supposed hang out at your friend’s house that you were never fucking there, and now this. Are you fucking proud?” the ex-captain of the scouts kept going as his eyes were glued to the road despite only one of them working anymore. “You’re grounded, you’re so fucking grounded that I’ll fucking die, and you’ll have to get a damn Ouija board to contact me to see if you can go out to buy groceries.”

The teen just silently rolled his eyes as the long list of unhappiness of his father about his behaviour couldn’t care less. “Don’t you dare to roll your eyes on me, brat. You heard me? Drop that fucking attitude.” Somehow his father always seemed to have eyes everywhere. “Happy now? You ruined your entire summer break; beg all you want later on. You’re not leaving the house.”

“As if you’d let me go out anyway,” Adrien murmured mockingly under his breath.

“What?” Levi demanded. “If you’re going to have the guts to steal MY car, MY money, and break MY orders, then grow the guts to speak the fuck up.”

“That you never let me go anywhere!” Adrien shouted back angrily.

“For what? To go to this damn party in the middle of nowhere to hang out with fucking rapists and get

shit-faced?” Levi argued back. “You think I was born yesterday? I know exactly which places I don’t want you to get involved with. You think you’ve everything figured out, but that’s not it, Adrien! You’re 14! Fourteen!”

“I’m fifteen!”

“You turned fifteen two weeks ago, for fuck’s sake!” Levi shouted, slightly turning to his right before focusing back on the road. “I’m telling you, better fix your attitude or this is not going to end well. You may be getting big and feel cocky, but you won’t play smart-ass with me. You can grow up to be as tall as the fucking Colossal Titan, and yet you would do whatever the fuck I tell you!”

“I did the right thing! I stood up for her; I’m not stupid enough to do whatever my classmates do. Why can’t you see that?!” Adrien complained as they reached the front of the house, and Levi stopped the car.

“’Cause you were stupid enough to steal my car even when you don’t know how to fucking drive!” Levi complained as he got out of the car, walking to the front door. He kept going with the lecture but lower as he didn’t want to wake up the neighbours. “You don’t like it? Choose another father in your next life; in this one, it’s me, and I’m not going to let my teenage kid not give a fuck about the decisions I take. I’ve gone through too much shit for a fucking brat to tell me what I believe is the best for them.”

They both walked in, and Levi locked the door behind them. The room was still dim for the early hours, and their dog greeted them enthusiastically. The keys dropping at the front plate echoed loudly, and the tuxedo cat of the family finally appeared to rub himself against the legs of the teen, who quietly picked him up. Y/N quickly rushed to check on her kid.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you somewhere?” She seemed clearly agitated, and Adrien remained with his eyes glued to the floor.

“No, mom,” he murmured, downcast. “I’m fine.”

“Oi, to your damn room,” Levi quickly ordered. “and clean it up; I won’t say it again.”

The kid left, cursing under his breath as he went upstairs and slammed the front door shut.

“What happened?” she asked Levi, who was preparing himself a tea to calm down, enveloping herself in a negligee.

“What happened? That kid is driving me nuts, that’s what's happening,”

Y/N sighed loudly, positioning herself behind her husband and running her hands through his arms, seeking to provide some comfort. She then switched to hugging him from behind. “He’s going through a phase… his new classmates are mostly kids who survived the rumbling, and some of them aren’t the best influence. He just wants to fit in, you know how important that is at his age.”

“Tch,” Levi kept facing the countertop, murmuring as the anger didn’t quickly wash away. But eventually, he closed his eyes and sighed loudly as the adrenaline slowed down. “The audacity of that kid, where the hell does he get it?”

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle against his back, “MH, I wonder,” she said sarcastically. “If they were still around, perhaps we could have asked some senior MPs… perhaps they could enlighten us on how you were as a teen,”

“I wasn’t like that,” Levi softly replied, almost ashamed of the point out.

“No haha you were worse,” Y/N was entertained as she kissed his shoulder blades tenderly. “Or do I have to remind you how you made me sneak out to meet you after curfew?”

“That’s different…”

Forcing him to turn around to place a kiss on his scar as she caressed his face softly, “He’s your kid,” she murmured against his lips. “He hates to be told what to do and has the strength to know he can get out of almost any situation. Asking him to be submissive is like asking him not to be an Ackerman; he got it in his genes,”

Levi just groaned, accepting the caress, her loving his face as if he was brand new and the residues of the war had never happened.

Days passed by, and while the mood in the house was slowly returning to calmness, the punishment still stood, and Adrien was reading in his bedroom, suffering the heat of summer without being able to go out with his friends. He couldn’t even play his record player because if in normal cases his father tolerated him to play his favourite bands loudly, now he was almost cursed to quietness. Levi didn’t seem to be very fond of Rock; perhaps Paradise music was too behind, and the period of adaptation was lacking. It sounded like loud noise to him.

A quiet knock at the front door was heard, mostly because the dog that was resting beside him in his bed raised hastily and rushed downstairs. The noise was almost imperceptible as his father was vacuuming the living room’s carpet while his mother prepared dinner. Adrien was about to raise himself from his bed and open the door himself, but the overwhelmingly loud noise of the vacuum stopped, so he guessed his father was on it.

Levi opened the front door without checking; he had faced so many adversities in life that he hardly doubted that anyone who rang his bell at 6 pm on a Thursday in their quiet family neighbourhood was a threat. “Yes?” he crossed his arms as he admired the young girl at the front gates. She was wearing the usual outfit of the time, white and brown loafers, crumpled low white socks, an inflated pastel yellow skirt that was tightly around her waist with a white blouse. The matching light cardigan was hanging from her shoulders, but she didn’t seem to put it on, another thing that Levi thought was some stupid new fashion trend from teens. That and his son’s imperious necessity to fold the sleeves of his t-shirts. High ponytail and blushed cheeks.

“Good evening, Mr. Ackerman,” The girl greeted him with kindness and politeness.

“Hello,” Levi replied, almost uninterested, his usual unfriendly nature not withdrawn even after years of not being on service.

“I was wondering if Adrien is at home,” she asked, and Levi wished he could roll his eyes at how almost immediately the girl blushed at the mention of his son’s name. “I’m the girl from the other night; I wanted to thank him…” seeing Levi’s slight frown at the memory of that early morning, she nervously added, “And you, of course, for what he did for me,” The young girl handed a package that was easily deduced to be a cake.

“He’s grounded,” Levi quickly replied. “And you don’t need to thank him; he did the only right thing to do. I don’t raise abusers,”

“Oh…” the disappointment in her voice was palpable, “Well, but please at least take the cake? For all the inconvenience,”

“No, kid, it’s alright-”

“Hi, sweetie! Adrien will be down in a minute!” Y/N popped behind Levi, slightly pushing him to the side and smiling softly at the girl. “Do you want to wait inside?”

Levi looked at his wife, confused and slightly offended by how quickly she overstepped him in the conversation.

“Ah, no, it’s alright; I don’t want to be a bother-”

Adrien appeared behind his parents, wondering what the whole issue was, and his mother quickly pushed him forward. “There he is!” She added while tugging Levi back inside. “Let’s give him some space,” she whispered to her husband, who was refusing to move.

“Oi,” Levi complained as he was forced back inside.

Both parents faking to be doing something in the living room to not be seen; Levi wasn’t spying, but his wife was. “She’s so cute,” she whispered, “and she’s crushing so much on him.”

Levi clicked his tongue, “He’s tall. All girls of that age crush on tall boys,” he argued back.

Y/N chuckled and turned to look at him, “talking from experience?”

“Ha ha,” Levi faked a sarcastic laugh. “He’s supposed to be grounded,”

“Shh, I can’t hear!” She hushed him back and then moved slightly as Levi joined her next to the window.

“Great,” Levi said annoyed, “she’s fucking bonnie,”

Confusion was written all over his wife's face as she grimaced dazed and raised an eyebrow, silently asking how those words could be said with such disappointment.

“Now I won’t only have to buy him all those stupid vinyl records, textbooks, and uniforms for the school team, but I’ll also have to start buying condoms; there goes my fucking salary,”

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[mydearzero]

Lisztomania | Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Years after joining the BAU, you thought you'd gotten past your little celebrity-like infatuation with Spencer, the whole reason you applied for the BAU. A case involving the murder of several groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band is bound to prove you wrong.

Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

4.7K words

It wasn't an everyday occurrence that Spencer would be the one to deliver the profile to the public. He looked a lot more stoic on TV than in real life. You never failed to be amazed by how he could still surprise you over the years. He looked confident, and it was a good look on him.

"-The man we're looking for is between the ages of 25 and 40. He is of an average build. He's likely socially inept and doesn't mingle well with his peers. Please be on the lookout for anybody who fits this description and contact the FBI through the local Police Department. Thank you." 

"Someone's gawking." Emily's words startled you out of your Spencer-induced trance. You crossed your arms and grumbled. 

"No, I wasn't..." You bit the inside of your cheek as Emily pat your shoulder and scoffed a laugh. 

"Sure, you weren't. I gotta give it to you. TV does Boy Wonder well." Emily said as she watched the head of the local Police Department take over the press conference as Spencer left the screen.

"I guess I'm just amazed at how different he looks while doing press. Compared to how he usually carries himself, I mean." You shrugged. Emily turned to look at you, no longer interested in the TV screen. 

"Guess that's the profiler in all of us. You can't help but compare. But you're right. Reid does have a certain je ne sais quoi about him, I suppose." 

_________

That was several months ago. It wasn't until you saw Spencer in front of a classroom that a familiar, uneasy feeling returned to your stomach. Emily was right. He did 'have a certain je ne sais quoi about him'. You just couldn't put your finger on what it was. 

"-Which is why it's crucial we always discuss the details of the COD with the coroner's office. COD being the Cause of Death, of course." Spencer spoke with an air of juvenile enthusiasm. You were glad he still had that part in him, despite everything that happened previous to his teaching.

He finished the class and was about to walk over to where you were leaning against the wall, waiting for him to finish. But when he was nearly done packing his satchel, a small group of college girls formed around his desk. The soft smile he'd directed at you was quickly cut short.

You stared in amazement at the girls' shameless flirting. Spencer had turned this group of brilliant and educated girls into giddy schoolgirls, all by just being himself. They all wanted a piece of him, and you started to have peace with the fact that you didn't blame them. You were in the same boat. 

_________

The final straw was during a case concerning a string of murders involving groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band. 

"I mean, I get the urge to throw your panties on stage at an attractive man. I do. Even I would've taken the bait with Nick Carter, given the chance. But to follow a random stranger down a dark alley in the hopes of meeting your idol? That seems a bit far-fetched. Girls this age are smarter than that, especially with the media frenzy." JJ flipped through the details described in the case file. 

"There's been several cases of fangirls going to great lengths to get what they want from their idol. The earliest case would probably be with Hungarian composer Franz Liszt in 1841. 

The term 'Lisztomania' came about in 1844, describing an intense level of hysteria demonstrated by fans, a bit like the treatment of celebrity musicians today – but in a time not known for such musical excitement. 

A more recent example would be Beatlemania, or even the so-called 'Bieber Fever' or 'One Direction Infection'. There have been several studies that explain this behaviour, but I won't get into that." Spencer trailed off. 

"I know someone else who had a case of that. But I think that was just called a hard-on." JJ joked, jabbing at Spencer's short-lived fling with Lila Archer over ten years ago. Spencer grumbled something along the lines of "Can we please let that go," but it fell on deaf ears. 

"It's still strange they would follow someone down the alley unless the person they're following has been established in the girls' minds as someone with authority, like a crew member connected to the band," Rossi mentioned. 

"Garcia, look into all the current members of the band's crew along with the people working at the venues. We're going to need you at the scene, too. There's a lot of social media involved. Thank you. Wheels up in 30." Hotch stood up, signalling the meeting was finished.

You walked with Emily back to the bullpen, Spencer following close behind. 

"You know, I get it. There's something attractive about a man with a platform, even if you put him on that pedestal yourself, to begin with." Emily said as you leaned against her desk.

"Yeah, for sure. It doesn't have to be a pop star or actor. A celebrity, even. Could be anybody under the right circumstances." You agreed. You could see the appeal in having an unrelenting devotion to someone like that. 

You put Spencer on a pedestal like that, in a way. You watched as he gathered his things into his go-bag. You knew he was a flawed person, like anybody. Yet, in your eyes, all his problems could be explained or ignored. You didn't notice the curious glance Emily sent your way. 

While on the jet, you contemplated the case. Would you have fallen for the ruse? Maybe if you had been a bit younger? You'd had your own little celebrity obsessions. You wouldn't have ruled it out if free tickets and a meet & greet were in the picture. 

It was a quick but convoluted catch once the profile was made. Thank you, Penelope. The UnSub was most likely one of the band's crew members who used to date the bassist. They'd broken up due to an increasing number of groupies getting in the way of their relationship. Go figure she'd go and murder them. 

The catch happened right in time with the start of the show, the bustling crowd missing all of the mayhem that had gone down backstage due to the support act. How the gigs hadn't been cancelled yet was beyond you. 

"You can stay and watch the show from the VIP area if you want. It's the least we can do, really. Though, maybe ditch the FBI gear." The lead singer had a charming smile. You could see how the crowd waiting for him could be captivated by his energy. 

After Hotch checked with the hotel and pilot, the team decided to take the band up on their invitation. After a quick shower and change at the hotel, you drove back to the venue in groups. 

You were escorted to a barricaded area near the front of the stage. The energy of the crowd was exhilarating. An electric tension hung in the air as the 30-minute change-over between the support was filled with soft music from a playlist. 

JJ and Rossi came bearing gifts, both carrying several drinks to hand out to the team. You thanked them as you took one, taking a sip of the ice-cold drink. You deserved to relax and enjoy a night like this after the gruelling case. 

You watched unabashedly at Spencer, red overhead lights casting down on his face. You'd like to see how he'd do on the stage, perhaps in an alternate universe, and with a different wardrobe. He was undoubtedly eclectic enough to pull off the whole rock star gig. 

He felt your gaze and made eye contact, working his way past a wildly gesturing Emily as she told a story. He lightly grabbed your upper arm when he reached you. 

"Hey." You saw his mouth move, but his words got lost under the chattering crowd. You smiled and leaned closer. 

"Hi! Fancy seeing you here!" You shouted. Spencer winced as he laughed. You'd obviously overestimated the volume of the crowd. You mouthed a quick apology before taking another drink. 

You nearly choked when Spencer leaned even closer, invading your personal bubble (that was already narrow), to talk directly in your ear. 

"Did you know that typical movement behaviour at large events like these increases the risk of spreading infectious diseases?" You bit your lip as you stopped yourself from laughing. Leave it up to Spencer to break the tension like that. 

"It makes sense, I guess. Lots of people, lots of bodily fluids. Kinda gross, now that I think about it," you replied. 

Just as he was about to speak again, the lights dimmed, and screams filled the stadium. You gave him a small smile, which he returned, afterwards turning to look at the show. He stood behind you for the majority of the show, and while you would've loved to admire him in the gorgeous lighting a little longer, you couldn't have asked for a better person to have rubbed up against you for an hour and a half. 

After the show, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ decided to return to the hotel for some much-needed rest ahead of their early flight the following day. The rest headed out to a bar just around the corner of the venue. You walked quickly, the cold of the outside being a jarring change from the heat at the concert. 

You were a few drinks in when Penelope brought up a subject you'd somehow managed to avoid all these years.

"If I hadn't joined the FBI, I would've liked to be some sort of celebrity," She mentioned, taking another sip through her straw. 

"Considering the type of psychos we encounter on a daily basis, I'd rather be less known, not more." Emily shuddered. You were quick to agree. Although fame was attractive on some level, you wouldn't want to risk situations like those you'd witnessed these last few days in exchange. 

"What made you want to become an agent in the first place?" Penelope turned to you before continuing. "I didn't have much of a choice, to be honest. It was jail or the FBI, and I'm not jail material. I mean, look at me!" She gestured wildly to herself. 

You chuckled and decided to pick an opt-out answer. "I just saw it as the right thing to do, you know? Make the world a better place, even if it's only little by little." You shrugged.  

Spencer squinted as he ran his eyes over your face. "Bullshit." He determined. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his callout. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned genuinely. Sure, you hadn't been entirely honest, but it wasn't a lie. 

"You're lying, I can tell. You do that thing with your face. Besides, that's the most basic answer ever. Surely a person with as much integrity as you do would have a better reason than a moral superiority complex." Spencer stated matter-of-factly. You gaped at his accusation. 

"He's right, though. You have no connection to the Bureau. Reid is a wunderkind, Garcia is basically an ex-con, and I'm a child of nepotism. What made you apply? And for the BAU of all places?" Emily wondered out loud. 

You recoiled as you realised there was no getting out of this. If you were going to dance around the subject, Penelope would get too curious, anyways. She'd have your application and its details pulled up in no time. That, along with cross-referencing the BAU with your college, it wouldn't take a mastermind to figure out what happened. 

"I actually followed a lecture on sexual sadism and the Mill Creek Killer back in college that made me wonder if I'd be cut out for it." You admitted, omitting some key details. 

The one secret you'd sworn to take to your grave was that Spencer was the sole reason you were with the FBI in the first place, having followed one of his guest lectures a few years back. 

He hadn't even left the room before you'd turned in your online application to the Academy. 

"Why not mention that in the first place? God, no need to be so secretive about it." Penelope whined. You didn't answer as you tentatively sipped your drink, feeling busted for no reason. 

You glanced up to look at an overly smug and amused Spencer. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you realised you were most definitely caught. 

"You know, when Hotch first introduced us to you, I thought I recognised you from somewhere. But the memory I have of that lecture is actually overshadowed by this kid who was also there, Nathan Harris. He ended up killing some prostitutes. But now that you mention it, you did go to Georgetown, didn't you?" Spencer knew he was right. He just wanted to see how you were going to talk yourself out of this one. 

"Oh, you gave that lecture? I never realised..." It was a pathetic lie, and there was no hiding it. Emily snorted out loud. She'd clocked your little 'thing' for Spencer long ago, you knew that much. 

"Aww, you looked up to Spencer? That's so cute!" Penelope gushed. That sure was one way to put it. You made a face that must've said as much. 

"What, you didn't look up to me? I'm offended. Here I thought I was your favourite professor." Spencer joked. He excused himself as he walked to the bathroom. Great timing, as it gave you time to rid your cheeks of the flush you were sporting. 

"Be honest with me. And don't bother lying because we've all seen the heart eyes you throw at Pretty Boy. Were you genuinely interested in joining because of the subject matter? Or..." Emily encouraged you to answer. 

You sighed as you brought a hand to your face. "Honestly? I wasn't sure if I wanted to be him or be with him. But at least I signed up for the class out of genuine interest! There were plenty of girls there that were there purely for the hour-long eye candy!" You defended yourself. 

"And you applied for the Academy after the lecture? At least it must've been interesting." Penelope wondered out loud. 

"Actually..." You winced. "He'd hardly even been done with his introduction before I'd filled in the online application. But I was very single, okay? And he'd already built up this celebrity status on campus." It felt nice to admit to it after years of harbouring it. 

"Oh! You naughty little fangirl!" Penelope exclaimed. 

"I'm not a fangirl! It's been years!" You groaned. You took it back. It didn't feel nice. You should've kept it to yourself. 

"Who are you a fangirl of?" Spencer asked, putting a new glass in front of Emily and sitting back down by your side. 

"You! She's a total groupie." Penelope betrayed you. You shot her a nasty look, but it went ignored by her drunken, self-satisfied glee. 

"Is that so?" Spencer turned to you with his eyebrows raised. 

"Oh yeah, total Reidiac. You should give her an autograph." Emily winked. Spencer laughed and shook his head at their antics. 

The conversation moved on, but you felt the dynamic between Spencer and you had changed, even when unspoken. When Penelope and Emily were caught up discussing cats, Spencer leaned against your side, whispering in your ear once more. Unlike last time, he didn't break the tension, even when telling another fact. 

"Garcia called you my groupie earlier. Do you know the textbook definition of the term 'groupie'?" His voice was huskier than usual, coated with the alcohol and late hour. You shook your head timidly, urging him to continue. 

"A groupie is typically explained as a young woman who regularly follows a celebrity, especially in the hope of having a sexual relationship with them." His lip brushed against your ear as he whispered the words. A cold chill went down your spine at his insinuation. 

"You're no celebrity, Spence." You answered apprehensively. He didn't move, still leaning into your side, out of sight. You couldn't gauge his expression. 

"Maybe not in the classic sense of the word. But I have a Wikipedia page. Surely, that amounts to some celebrity status." He joked. You closed your eyes, tension slowly disappearing after the vibe of the conversation changed back to casual banter. 

Was he insinuating what you thought he was? 

You got your answer as soon as the four of you headed to the hotel. You bid your goodbyes to Emily and Penelope before turning to put the keycard in the door to your room. You heard a couple of doors close, and just when you turned the handle, there was a hand on your shoulder, pushing you inside and closing the door. You whipped around, only to be faced with Spencer. 

"Spenc-" 

"You deflected earlier." He interrupted. 

"Deflected what?" Your heart was racing. Whether from the shock of his sudden intrusion or the proximity, you weren't sure. 

"The definition of a groupie. And how Garcia is right, you totally are one." 

You gaped at the insinuation. 

"Don't look shocked now! You are totally one of those girls who audit my class." He grinned. 

"You wish! I'll have you know you were scrawny at best when you gave that one lecture I attended." You huffed, crossing your arms. 

"Were scrawny? Past tense?" Spencer egged you on. 

"Shut up. You know you've built up some muscle since then. Hell, maybe you even grew a couple of inches." You rolled your eyes. 

Spencer decided to ignore the comment and put his hand in his pocket, fishing for something. He finally pulled something out, looking way too smug for his own good. "I brought a Sharpie. You know, for your autograph." 

Fine. If he wasn't going to stop this ridiculous teasing, you were going to cross the 'groupie' line. 

"Oh my god! I like, totally want your autograph, Spency!" You started, looking him dead in the eyes as your hands made their way to the hem of your shirt. 

"Will you sign my tits?" You challenged, lifting your top far enough to expose your bra to its fullest extent. 

Spencer obviously hadn't expected that, struggling to come up with a quick-witted response. You shrugged as you took the shirt off. 

"I see. You require a larger surface area. I get it. Big ego, bigger signature." Spencer finally broke when you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. 

"Hey, hey. Stop. I can sign them like this just fine, sweetheart." You knew he was simply going along with the rockstar act, but the nickname sent blood rushing to your cheeks either way. 

"Okay, hot shot." You smirked, pushing your chest out. He hadn't expected you to actually let him sign your chest. He scrambled to take the cap off. He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. 

"Stand still. You want it to come out perfect, don't you?" 

You held your breath when he brought the Sharpie up to your breasts. You looked at his face as he appeared laser-focused on giving you the best autograph of your life. Why was it that such a stupid joke felt like the most sensual experience of your life? 

The tip of the Sharpie tickled as it danced across your chest. He finished the signature with a dot on the I in Reid. 

"There, perfection." He whispered, but his eyes were no longer glued to your scantily clad upper body. You searched his face for hesitation but only found his determined gaze settled on your parted lips. 

He made eye contact as if asking permission. You'd barely nodded before his hands cupped your face, and lips were on yours, sucking all the air out of your lungs. His body pressed up against your own, frantically shedding the layers keeping you separated. You kept kissing him while desperately reaching for his belt. 

You hadn't noticed you'd slowly made your way to the bed in the back of the hotel room until Spencer pulled away to remove his tie. You let yourself fall onto the sheets, ridding yourself of your bottoms. They got stuck at your ankles as you forgot your shoes. 

"I got it." Spencer's voice was unrecognisably hoarse. He kicked off his own shoes and made his way over to the bed in only his boxers. He tugged at your shoes after undoing the laces and discarded them somewhere in the room. 

You'd never seen a sight quite like Spencer leaning over you as he rested one knee on the bed. He put his hand beside your face and you met his eyes. His head blocked the dim yellow ceiling light, lighting him perfectly from behind. It was ridiculous how angelic he could look, even in these stereotypically sinful circumstances. 

"Are you sure about this?" Spencer asked. Always considerate. What a gentleman.

"I've been sure ever since that stupid lecture, dork." You joked. Spencer smiled and leaned down, placing a kiss under your ear. His breath was hot on your neck as he left a trail of kisses down your neck, down to his crudely placed signature. 

You leaned on your elbows as Spencer reached behind your back to finally unclasp your bra. You let your back meet with the sheets again as he pulled the straps down your arms. You heard him take a deep breath as he took in the sight before him. 

You pulled him down for another kiss, unsatiable now that you'd gotten a taste. His hands reached for your chest and experimentally pinched a nipple. You inhaled sharply through your nose. The combined sensation of his mouth and large hands on your body, as his hips sought more and more friction, was delectable. 

His hands slowly reached further down, toying with the edge of your underwear. 

"Don't tease." You whined, already too riled up. 

"Patience is a virtue," Spencer murmured against the skin of your jaw, hooking his finger under the elastic band. 

"Patience, my ass, Reid. I need you." It came out more desperate than you intended, but it seemed to do the trick. He yanked the underwear down your legs, followed by his own. 

"Condom?" He asked. You shook your head. 

"Don't care. I'm clean, and God knows you are. Wanna feel you." You answered, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Spencer laughed, taking his cock in his hand and running it through your folds. 

"Have you met yourself? You won't even shake hands, Doct-oh, oh Jesus Christ." Spencer interrupted your banter by sliding inside in one go. You closed your eyes as you pulled him close, begging him to kiss you. 

He slowly started moving as you regained your ragged breath. The low grunts falling from his lips against yours were magical, but you wanted more. Your fingers made their way up to his hair, tentatively tugging at the roots. Your grip tightened at a particularly harsh thrust, and Spencer's response was everything you were searching for. 

"Holy fuck, oh my God- Uh-" His grunts slowly tuned whinier as you kept your grip on his hair. He brought a hand to your clit, rubbing circles in tandem with his thrusts. 

"Look at me, baby." He moaned in your ear. He leaned back, and your eyes fluttered open, though with difficulty. Your instinct was to squeeze them shut with pleasure. He looked ravenous, pupils blown wide, panting with the physical effort. 

You lazily wrapped your legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him even closer. 

"Shit, Spencer," you moaned as the new angle reached a spot inside you you'd only ever dreamed of. Your eyes squeezed shut again, unable to keep them open. Spencer removed the hand rubbing your clit and moved it to your chin, placing a small kiss on your lips.

"Eyes on me, come on. I know you can do it." He encouraged. Something about his coercive tone let you know there was a side to Spencer you had yet to see. You opened your eyes and were met with the sight of his eyebrows furrowed with effort. 

The noises coming from Spencer sped up along with the desperate pace of his hips. The combination of his whines with yours and the sound of skin on skin was anything but serene. You felt yourself nearing the edge, clawing at his back in an attempt to ground yourself. 

"Spencer! Fuck, oh my god," it was hardly distinguishable what you were saying, mumbles of pleasure stringing together into an unintelligible mess. His cock slid again and again and- you couldn't take it. 

Your hands left his hair in favour of running your nails harshly over his back. Spencer was seemingly a glutton for pain, moaning at the sensation. 

  "I- Shit, I'm gonna cum. D'you want me to pull out?" Spencer's thrust faltered. You knew you had to answer fast. You tightened your grip on him with your legs. 

"Please, Spencer. Please come inside me. Want to feel you cum." You begged. 

"Fuck, okay. Okay. O-" His head dropped down to your shoulder as his unrelenting hips sped up one more time, bringing you both to your high. You felt his cock twitch as your walls tightened around him. 

"Spencer!" You shouted as you came, feeling him spill inside you. 

"So good for me. So gorgeous. Perfect." Spencer mumbled as he peppered you with kisses, hips slowing down as he came down from his high. Your chest heaved, trying to catch your breath.  

Spencer carefully pulled out, making sure not to spill anything and soil the sheets. He stepped off the bed and spread your legs, before leaning back down and licking a drop of cum threatening to spill. 

"Shit, Spencer! Too sensitive!" You pushed his head away. He laughed before heading to the bathroom, returning with a dampened towel. 

The nighttime routine that followed felt domestic. You peed, brushed your teeth, ignored the sight of his signature and hickies on your boobs, and headed to bed. 

"Can I borrow your toothbrush?" Spencer asked from the bedroom. He hadn't asked to stay. But then again, you hadn't asked him to leave. You didn't want him to. 

"You just licked your own cum from my vagina, and you ask if you can borrow my toothbrush? Be my guest, Reid." You scoffed, lying down under the sheets. 

"Hey, people have their preferences, okay? Didn't want to overstep." Spencer said as he returned from the bathroom, lying down beside you. 

Against your better judgement, Spencer stayed. You knew the entire team would be up and around, bright and early. But you didn't care. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 

He left early the following morning. You were sure he hadn't had nearly enough beauty sleep. He could nap on the plane, you shrugged. There were no regrets from either party over the loss of sleep. 

You hadn't thought too much about your outfit before heading down to breakfast. An honest mistake one can make when staying up late and getting up early. You were exhausted, let alone hung over. You realized your mistake when the ever-stoic eyes of Aaron Hotchner immediately snapped down to the tank top you were wearing the second you stepped out of the elevator, the words 'Spencer Reid' still obscenely sprawled across your chest, accompanied by several suspicious bruises. 

Your eyes went wide as you followed his gaze, quickly zipping up your hoodie. How could you possibly have forgotten that part? You met Hotch's eyes. Before you could try to babble yourself out of this one, he held up a hand to stop you. "I don't want to know."

You clenched your lips as you nodded. "Noted, bossman."

The small smile tugging at the corner of his lips didn't escape you, and neither did the exchange of money between him and Rossi not 5 minutes later. 

[captn-trex]

words in my mouth

Wolffe x F!Reader

word count: 3.7k

description: you never felt that your friendliness had made a positive impression on the ever elusive, always stern commander wolffe, but that all changes when he overhears a drunken game of truth or dare.

warnings: kinda grumpy/sunshine I suppose, a little fluff at the end, drinking, minor injury detail

a/n: was supposed to be working on my tech oneshot but... I got sidetracked. I also tried to make wolffe less toxic than how he's sometimes represented. grumpy king <3

“Hey Commander!” You chirp cheerily, passing the man in question in the hallway. You know you won’t receive any such a response from him, but you were nothing if not persistent. Sometimes, it was just fun to see his glare and the grinding of his jaw.

Truthfully, you didn’t do it to wind him up, you secretly hoped that one day he would relent and smile back at you. Though that was not in his nature, and perhaps you wouldn’t care to try if it was.

His eyes found yours at the mention of his title, and his teeth instantly ground together. You offered a sweet smile and a wave but his eyes held your gaze with a glare that was so equally lazy and irritated that you almost found it endearing. You were sure no one got under his skin like you did, and that's how you liked it.

“See you later!” You grinned as he walked past, clinging onto his glare so long that he was looking over his shoulder by the time you looked away.

You were stationed on Coruscant with the rest of the 104th for a few weeks at the moment. Usually, you worked aboard General Plo Koon's flagship as a strategist, which was how you got so many opportunities to irritate the broody Commander. You worked closely with him and the General before they were sent off on their missions.

The first time you had met Commander Wolffe, he was so taken aback by your friendliness and positive attitude that he had looked to his General, hoping for some kind of support. Seeing how confused it had made him, you just couldn't resist doing it every time you saw him outside of meetings.

Wolffe was thankful that you kept your overly-sweetened demeanour to outside of meetings, and it was when you became focused and as serious as he was during them, that he truly appreciated your role as a strategist. He wouldn't admit it to you, he hardly had to himself, but he secretly preferred your friendly off-duty persona.

He knew that you were friendly with everyone, but he got a certain thrill every time you went out of your way to say hi to him, to offer him that million-credit smile with the cutest spring in your step. He would be remiss to not realise how beautiful you were, everyone in his company had made at least one comment on it before, but again, he'd never let on.

Wolffe gave no indication of these thoughts and feelings that he kept close to his chest, in fact, he actively worked against them, glaring at you as he just had and not answering your questions that felt like they were meant to taunt him. You drove him up the wall, but in a way where he would lie awake at night and hope to run into you the next day.

Safe to say, you had no idea. No one did.

Though it wasn't long before your own affections came to light.

That night, you had been press-ganged into playing pazaak by Comet and Boost, both of them playing on the same side against you. You had groaned about how unfair it was, but by this point you were all drunk enough that it didn’t matter anymore. If anyone had walked in, they might not have even realised it was pazaak you were playing, you were all playing that poorly. Since you had lost all of your credits to the two clones - unfairly, as you kept reminding them - you were now playing for truth or dares. If they won, you picked truth or dare, and so on and so forth. Hilarity ensues, for them.

You lost another round, but you were past caring now.

“Alright. Truth this time” You sighed.

Comet grinned lazily, “I have a good one”

You rolled your eyes, “So, you mean, it’s actually bad”

“Shhhhh” Boost pressed a finger to your lips haphazardly, “Let the man speak”

You pushed him off, “Lay it on me”

“If you had to kiss one of us clones, who would it be?” Comet leaned forwards as he relayed the question.

“Ooh, that is a good one”

You laughed instinctively, “I’m not answering that”

“No. The rules dictate you must answer the question” Boost slurred.

“The rules?” You chuckled, “I think we lost our grip on rules a while ago”

“Cmon” Comet almost whined, pushing at your knee.

For a moment you placed a finger on your chin, pretending to think really hard, but then it was shortly over taken by a smirk as your brain brought forth exactly the clone to answer the question.

“So there is someone then!” Boost pointed at your borderline mischievous look.

“Keep your voice down!” You hissed at him, swatting his accusing finger away.

“You’ve got to tell us now” Comet insisted.

“No. I’m not saying”

“Okay well we’re just gonna start guessing and see how you react” Boost sat back in his chair, “Well there’s me, Comet…”

You rolled your eyes affectionately as they continued to list off people from their company. It was almost worth it to let them do it to see if they remembered everyone, but it was getting a little tiresome at the same time.

“Alright, alright. I'll kriffing tell you” You finally relented. Somehow they hadn’t guessed right yet.

The pair sat across from you leaned in with the biggest grins plastered across their faces, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes again.

“I guess I don't hate the idea of making out with the Commander” You said coyly, as if you didn’t know how insane that was going to make them.

They both let out a borderline scream, Boost even jumped up from his chair for a minute. Your laughter forced its way out of you from their reaction.

“So what you really mean is, you’ve already thought about making out with the Commander” Comet asked with a knowingly raised eyebrow.

“Alright, that wasn’t part of the game” You shook your head, sitting back.

“Come on” Boost whined, and it cracked you easily in your drunken state.

“Fine. Maybe I have. So what?”

If either of the clones grinned any wider their faces would surely have split in half.

“So that's why you're so friendly with him, you have a crush on him” Boost laughed loudly, and you jumped to cover his mouth, but just a little too late.

“Will you please be quiet!” You hissed, and they erupted into even louder laughter at your reaction.

You grumbled under your breath and moved back, picking up the bottle of spotchka and pouring them both another cup.

“I’m making sure the both of you don’t remember this tomorrow” You mumbled.

Regrettably, both Comet and Boost were fully operational with no hangover and a complete memory the next morning, unlike yourself. You didn’t have a particularly low alcohol tolerance but the sheer amount of straight liquor that you drank last night was catching up with you. You had an agonizing headache and felt so foggy that you didn’t even know you were walking past the Commander. He called out to you, and you realised you had been walking down the corridor with your head in your hand as you looked to the floor.

“Are you… Alright?” He asked hesitantly, the words feeling unfamiliar coming from him.

You cleared your throat and smoothed down your hair slightly, hyper-aware of your less-than-alive looking appearance. You had really hoped not to see him today. Your eyes found his, his one natural eye holding a certain level of concern that turned your stomach.

“Yes sir, just… Drank a bit too much last night is all” You spoke, and your voice was more hoarse than you were hoping.

“What were you drinking? You look awful” He crossed his arms, looking down at you with his usual frown.

“How kind of you to point out” You chuckled, “It was spotchka, Boost and Comet convinced me to play pazaak against both of them”

“Well that was a mistake” He said flatly, his eyes moving to something behind you.

“Yeah, I can see that no-”

You were cut off as someone shoved your back harshly, sending you flying towards the Commander’s chest. Luckily, he saw the incoming attack and grabbed your shoulders before you could make impact. It was the first time he had ever touched you, and if you weren’t so angry your brain might have lingered on the warmth you could feel through his gloves.

You whirled around, looking for the culprit, and as expected, there stood Boost and Comet, snickering with each other.

“You’re going to regret that” You seethed, and their eyes widened, running away as you leapt at them.

Wolffe watched you sprint after his men, and failed to suppress the small smile quirking his lips. He had a little idea of what that might have been about.

Over the next couple of days, you had to keep your wits about you, particularly when you spotted Wolffe in the vicinity. You were constantly looking over your shoulder, as you had now been shoved number of times, being sent careening into the Commander. You apologised profusely each time, then turned around to whack whichever one of the two menace clones had done it this time. Wolffe couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed by it, in fact, he almost looked forward to it.

He would grab your arms to steady you, and the wide-eyed look you gave him each time was enough to set his insides alive. One time, when you really hadn’t been expecting it, he had grabbed you by the waist, and somewhere in the altercation your hands ended up splayed against his chest plate. Your eyes went wide as always, and in addition, you cheeks flushed a deep red and your mouth hung agape. You couldn’t seem to move or say anything for a moment, only being snapped from your trance when Wolffe had raised an eyebrow at you. That interaction had only earned you an earful from Comet about how ‘down bad’ you were.

Even now as you walked into an important meeting, you couldn't get it out of your head, and the fact that Wolffe was stood waiting for you with the General was no help. The reality of your silly crush came crashing down on you. It wasn't just some fleeting fancy, this affection for Wolffe had been festering within you, and you had only been intensifying it each time you goaded him.

His eyes followed you as you walked inside, settling yourself at the central holotable and looking into it despondently. His eyebrows drew together in a frown as he walked towards you.

“Everything alright?” He asked as he rested on the holotable beside you. You jumped at the sound of his voice, looking up only briefly when realising who it was.

“Yeah, yeah” You replied non-commitally, causing Wolffe's frown to deepen.

“You sure?” He asked again, bringing his hand to your shoulder. You instinctively ducked away from it, stepping away from him, your body feeling like it had been struck by lightning.

“I'm fine” You managed to peep out.

Wolffe let his hand hang in the air for a moment, before he quickly brought it to his side again. What was he doing? He didn't touch people. He didn't double check if people were okay. But why had you moved away? Did he not overhear you right the other night? Was it someone else's name that you had said?

He could feel an embarrassed blush scorching his ears as General Plo Koon joined you both at the holotable, which he mostly did a good job of hiding. You, however, were doing a poor job of acting normal, and Plo Koon looked between the both of you suspiciously for a moment.

“Has something happened that I should be made aware of?” He spoke and you were pulled out of your mind that was purely filled by screaming thoughts.

“No sir” You shook your head, “Let's get to work”

Wolffe had always applauded your professionalism, and he was never more thankful for it than in that moment.

You had scampered from the command room as soon as the meeting was over. You didn't want to think for a while, so you had gone to your workstation in the hangar, hoping to rid the Commander from your mind.

Thus far, you had been unsuccessful.

You were trying to solder together two wires, but your hand kept slipping, your mind absolutely preoccupied by the few touches that Wolffe had allowed you in the past few days. Well, most of them had not been allowed, but the most recent one, the one you could still feel burning at your skin…

You grunted in frustration, just as Boost came strolling by with a wide grin.

“How’s it going?” He asked, spurred on by your glare.

“Not good. No thanks to you” You grumbled, looking back down to your work.

“Oh come on, it's just a bit of fun” He said, taking a seat on your workstation.

“For you. I can’t say I enjoy being pushed around all too much” You said pointedly, giving him a withering look.

He just shrugged with a grin, “I think you do really”

You huffed, continuing on with your work despite the distraction. At least your mind was off of Wolffe now. You weren't thinking about the feel of his hand on your shoulder, or your waist, the strength of his grip, this intensity of his gaze… oh kriff, who were you kidding.

“Boost I need you to-”

Before you could even register who's voice it was, Boost was pushing your side into the Commander. You cried out as the soldering tool stabbed and burned into your other hand suddenly, drawing blood and cauterising the wound all at once. It was a mess, and Boost immediately began apologising.

Wolffe sighed agressively, righting you again, “I'll patch her up, you best kriff off now Boost”

There was no room for objection in his tone, and Boost slinked off with another apology, and guilt weighing his shoulders.

“Do you have a medkit here?” Wolffe asked as you rested your back against the workstation, holding your hand closed with the other one.

“Bottom drawer” You said, unable to meet his gaze, unable to focus on anything but the searing pain in your palm.

He retrieved the medkit and opened it up, setting it down on the desk and taking off his gloves, “Alright, let's see it”

He took your hands in his, and that's when your breathing stopped. His hands were unexpectedly soft and gentle, pulling your hand away from the wounded one and opening it up. There was blood smeared all over your palm and fingers, but all you could focus on was Wolffe. The feeling of his hands as they cleaned you up, the gentleness of his grip and the lack of a scowl on his features.

“So are you going to tell me why the boys have been doing this all week?” He said, looking up to find you already looking into his eyes when he had wrapped your hand.

You huffed a bit, “I don't know, because they're idiots, mainly”

Wolffe hummed thoughtfully, “So it has nothing to do with the conversation I overheard the other night?”

You froze completely.

“What?” You managed to peep out, but it was barely above a whisper.

Wolffe’s lips curled into a small smirk, “Something about… not minding the idea of making out with me?” He jogged your memory teasingly.

You could feel your heart beating faster and faster, your insides constricting and your throat drying up. He had heard exactly what you had said.

“It was just a silly game we were playing” You tried to play it off but Wolffe wasn't having it.

“Mhm” He hummed amusedly, “A game which - if I'm not mistaken - has the word ‘truth’ somewhere in the title”

You had to rip your eyes from his at that point, it was becoming too uncomfortable, and you could feel the blush creeping up your neck. He stepped forwards so that his boots were touching yours, his chest almost against yours.

“So you're saying you haven't thought about it?” He asked, his voice in a slightly lower register, giving it a slightly gravelly tone.

You gulped. “No, I havent” You lied through your teeth, but you were never good at that, and it was given away by the quiver in your voice.

“That's a shame” Wolffe mumbled, and your eyes snapped back to his, slightly widened.

You were sweating at this point, your body feeling like it was on fire with his so close by. Wolffe just smirked knowingly.

“Ah, so it's true, you really do want me to kiss you?” He leaned forward a fraction more, his chest brushing against yours as he placed one hand on the bench behind you, the other finding your waist.

You were burning up under his gaze and now his touch, unable to think clearly.

“I feel like you're putting words in my mouth” You spoke breathlessly, clearly flustered as you looked between his eyes and anything around him in a panic. Wolffe just chuckled, gripping your waist tighter.

“I don't think I am darling”

By then, he was only a hairbreadth from your lips, and all the composure you still had was hanging by a thread.

“Commander, what…?” You trailed off, you couldn't make sense of the situation. You had assumed he found you completely irritating and just plain didn't like you, only holding it together in meetings because he had to. But now, with his breath mingling with yours, you were left confused.

“Do you not want me to kiss you?” He asked sincerly, his face moving back slightly and eyes flicking over your face for any sign that you didn't want this. Your eyes closed at the feel of his hot breath on your lips and you let out a shaky breath.

“I…” You couldn't muster up any words, your brain wasnt functioning as it should. The only thing you could get out, was “Why?”

He chuckled lowly, and your eyes opened to see the skin around his eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled fondly.

“Believe it or not, I don't find you anywhere near as annoying as I pretend I do. In fact…” He said quietly, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear before settling his palm against your cheek, “I might even like you, just a bit”

Wolffe could see your eyes sparkle at his words, “Really?”

“Really” He said resolutely.

You couldn't help but smile up at him, that winning smile that he so loved.

“See, how could I resist a smile like that”

You blushed and looked down shyly, unsure how to deal with this kind of attention from the Commander. You were used to him being cold, not necessarily ignoring you, but just not engaging with your friendly advances. That, you could deal with, but this, was something else entirely.

He tilted your head up again with a finger under your chin, “Not like you to be so quiet. Something on your mind darling?”

The pet name rolled so easily off his tongue despite how strange it was to hear from him, but the more you became intoxicated by his presence surrounding you, the more right it felt.

He's right, usually you had something to say. A quick joke, a quip, a small compliment at the very least, but nothing was coming to mind. You could only look at him and hope to convey everything that your mind wouldn't bring forth.

Your eyes naturally flicked down from his, trailing along his mouth that was so close to yours, and back up to his cybernetic one. He was so effortlessly handsome, in a way you didn't see with the other clones. Perhaps his eye set him apart, or perhaps it was his usual attitude. You didn't know, but with him pressing you into your workstation, there was no way that you'd figure it out right then and there.

“Wolffe” You whispered, the name causing his eyebrows to raise. You had never called him by his name, not once, and that was certainly not lost on him.

“What is it, Mesh'la?” He said lowly, his head tipping forwards to lightly press his forehead to yours. Your breathing evened out at the comforting gesture.

“Kiss me” You whispered, your lips almost grazing his.

He grinned, speaking almost as quietly, “I thought you'd never ask”

Then his lips were on yours.

He held your waist tightly as his lips moved in perfect harmony with yours, melding together in a dance of quiet passion. You had never been kissed with such reverence, such intensity and yet such sweetness. His lips captured yours as if they were made to fit together, and they had finally found their purpose in meeting. The kiss didn't last long, but all that needed to be confessed was laced within it's lingering aftertaste.

Wolffe pulled away, his grin no longer taunting in anyway, but just one of genuine contentment. His thumb stroked your cheek gently as he held you to him with his other arm.

“Was it everything you hoped it'd be?” He asked, rubbing his nose against yours slightly.

You chuckled softly, a smile parting your lips, “It was way better”

“Better?” Wolffe raised his eyebrows slightly, “So, in your wildest dreams I was a lousy kisser?”

“That's not what I meant” You frowned a little.

“What did you mean then?” He asked with a growing smirk.

“Just that it was really grea-” You paused, observing his amused expression, “You knew what I meant” You rolled your eyes affectionately, earning an amused huff from Wolffe.

“I did” He mumbled with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I just wanted to hear you say it”

[rebelliousstories]

Love Me Dead

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: AU, Fluff, Mentions of Killing, Suggestive Themes, Mentions of Alcohol and Smoke

Word Count: 1,256

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: There are two words that start with f, and end with -ing that come to mind when he looks at her. And he certainly doesn’t want to fight her.

Consider Donating: Here

New Orleans, Louisiana. A dirty, crime infested, hellscape that made it the perfect background for this story. It was never supposed to be this way, but that is what happens when the hunter becomes the hunted. Of course, he never said it aloud, but there was a reason to his madness. They tried to kill him, so why should he not do the same? Except, he actually succeeds.

Remy LeBeau was stalking down a dark alleyway, towards a club that he was a regular at. It was dark and seedy, but that meant that it was easy pickings for him. He knew the bouncer that was at the door; an old childhood friend that let him in with no hassle. Smoke blurred the vision of a lot of people, before it rose to the top of the room. His eyes scanned the room, and saw his target. A friend of humanity was sitting at the bar, already far too gone to be in complete control.

He saddled up to the bar, and began to butter him up. At that point, Gambit knew that this man was really gone, because his eyes were not bothering him. So he just kept it up. In the middle of his work, he felt someone brush against his back. It was not enough to break him from his spell, but the voice he could hear through the crowd was intoxicating.

But Gambit was so close to sinking this target. He had the man right where he wanted him.

“Why don’ we go outside so you can clear your head, mon ami?” Remy helped the man off of his barstool, and began to walk them outside.

Out there, the cold air made Gambit perk up some more. Watching the man next to him, he just waited for a bit. This was the fun part, but also the most tedious; waiting for the right time to strike. Vaguely, he heard the door to the bar open and shut, but he paid it no mind. He withdrew a playing card, and was poised and ready to hit him with it when he heard it again. That voice.

“Hey, y’all alright over there?” Remy cursed whatever higher power was out there. He could see her getting closer, making him quickly extinguish his card and hoist the other man’s arm over his shoulder.

“Oh, no need t’ worry about us gentlemen, chere. Jus’ takin’ my buddy home. Had a bit too much, ya know?” He lied smoothly off of his silver tongue. But she just came closer.

“Do you need any help? He looks pretty out of it.” She offered, and it was the that Remy noticed just how sweet the appearance of the voice was. Her hair nicely done, and a cute little skirt on her body. He had to physically shake the thoughts out of his head to refocus.

“We’ll be alrigh’, chere.” However, she still did not look convinced. So Gambit doubled down.

“My apartment is jus’ a few blocks from here. He can sleep it off der. No need t’ worry, chere.”

She chewed her bottom lip, but eventually relented. As Gambit passed, he took a deep breath of her perfume and immediately found himself to be in love with her. The part about his apartment being just a couple blocks away was true. But the fact that they were going to be staying in the alleyway behind it was omitted. That evening, Remy found less joy in his kill. He would have much rather spent his evening talking with that woman that ensnared his senses so quickly, but he had already put a lot of effort into this target. It would be a shame for it to go away.

The following evening, the lively city came back in full force. Headlines read everywhere that there was a serial killer loose on New Orleans, targeting anti-mutant humans specifically and women that had a very specific physical description. They theorized that a mad man was loose on the city, but that just made Remy laugh as he read his newspaper. He found himself back at that same bar, but this time not for a new target. Rather, he hoped to get a glimpse of that woman again.

He had spent an hour there already, and there was no sign of her. Gambit was becoming grumpier by the second. Nursing his glass of whiskey, he kept his eyes trained on the door. So far, no mystery woman. Another half hour went by and he was contemplating throwing in the towel. There were plenty of women ready to throw themselves at him; so why was he so fascinated by this one? Someone tapped him on the shoulder, causing the mutant to turn around. Holding in a growl, Gambit was pleasantly surprised as to who he saw.

“Chere, you’re here again. What are de odds o’ dat?” His smooth accent was being his own personal wingman this time around.

“I was hoping to run into you. I didn’t catch your name last night.”

“Remy LeBeau. They call me da Gambit. Enchanté, mon chere.” Holding his hand out, he was gifted with her own name. Taking her hand in his, Remy pressed a kiss to her knuckles while looking her in the eyes. The dark lights in the bar did wonders to hide a lot from untrained eyes, but they did not fully hide her blush as he came up.

“Whatcha doin’ here tonight?” Gambit asked, watching her intensely under the dim lights.

“Well, I was hoping to run into you again. What are you doing here?” She returned, seemingly as infatuated with him as he was with her.

“You found me, chere. I’m jus’ here lookin’ for a lil’ bit o’ fun. Maybe you’d wanna go somewhere a lil’ bit more quiet, no?” Nodding his head to the back door, he watched to see what she might want to do next. After a moment of careful consideration, she placed her hand in his and let him lead her out of the bar.

Outside was just like last night. A brisk breeze that would sober up those that might be a little tipsy. The chill felt good on his skin, but it made her begin to shiver underneath her cute outfit. Without thinking about it, Gambit took his jacket off and placed it around her shoulders. When he turned away from her, she breathed in his scent in the warm leather.

“Really quick, Remy,” she started, looking at him through her lashes, “you’re not a serial killer, are you?” He chuckled for a moment before leveling her with a stare.

“How do I know you ain’t one either, chere?” He teased, but her face was serious.

“I mean, the probability of two serial killers being in the same vicinity is remarkably low. But one, not so much.”

A smirk overtook his face. He was liking this woman more and more. Gambit could not tell if she was joking or not either, which made him feel all giddy inside.

“I guess we’ll have to see, chere. Say, you wouldn’t wanna grab a bite t’ eat? There’s a cafe open 24 hours just a block away. Care for a beignet?” Walking out of the alley, he turned and extended his hand once more. But this time she needed much less time to consider her decision.

Hand in hand, the two set out against the dark backdrop of the city in search of companionship in a such an unusual person.

Part Two: Love Me Cancerously

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

There's a snake in my pants - K.MG

🤠Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x gender-neutral reader 🤠What; Crack/humour. Some fluff. Established relationship. Himbo Mingyu! [I love himbo Gyu] 🤠Word count; 2.3k 🤠Warnings; Profanity. Critter mentions (literally the word critter plus snake but uhhh not the animal). Misuse of a lasso, bad Mingyu, but it's funny dw. And no one gets hurt. Mentions of pervert/voyeur Wonwoo but it's not plot relevant. Very suggestive in general but no smut or actual sexual actions. Reader wears lingerie.

Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

Summary; Your boyfriend wants to try a new sexy roleplay idea, it doesn't go well.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- This goes out to @ourdawnishotterthanourday , I hope you enjoy reading this as if you don't already know exactly what's going to happen anyway from my screaming about the himbo cowboy collective (omg series idea???) Thank you for encouraging me to live my best crack life, sweetheart 💖 And big thank you to @wonuvs for helping me so much with the header, I know it must've been hard to look at shirtless Mingyu so much 💖

Approximately twenty minutes ago, your lovable idiot of a boyfriend told you to go and wait on your bed for him, gave you a wink then skipped off with an excited giggle. Which, cute, yes, but also very very worrying.

As much as you adore Mingyu, you are very aware that he has some rather questionable ideas in general, what with him being what you would call a Class A Himbo; and unfortunately, he has brought those questionable ideas into the bedroom on more than one occasion. There is now a strict rule about no balloons in the bedroom and likely not for the reason you think.

So although you do go to your shared room and get dressed down in a lingerie set you know that he likes, you truly can't say that you exactly have high hopes for whatever your boyfriend has planned.

When the door creaks open, you're confused because all you see is Mingyu's hand appearing from one side to nudge the door open as wide as it can go. It takes a few pushes of his fingers before the door does actually swing open and then his arm darts back. A second later, Mingyu gallops into view and you don't know if you want to laugh or mentally log out more.

Because gallop isn't even an inaccurate description of the way he enters. Like a child pretending to play cowboys with one of those long wooden poles with the plush horse's heads set on one end with attached reigns. You can't tell if the fact he has one of those children's toy horses makes it worse or not. You can't even admire the way his thick thighs, showcased by just the tiny pair of boxer briefs he's wearing, are pressed tight around either side of the thick wooden pole to keep it upright with both of his hands barely fitting on the tiny little loop of faux-leather that makes up the reigns.

All Mingyu is wearing are those tiny little dark boxers that don't even fully cover his asscheeks, a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. Oh, and there's some thin dark rope looped diagonally over his bare chest. That can't be good.

"Howdy partner." Mingyu starts, entirely serious in his roleplay and doing his best to put on the 'cowboy voice' you know that he and his friends have been practising together to be 'real cowboys'.

Even though you're still trying to figure out exactly how you feel about this particular roleplay choice of your boyfriend, you can't help but at least humour him. He's far too cute and sweet in general to not try, at the very least, to play along. "Howdy, cowboy," You reply, a little dumbstruck yet Mingyu lights up brightly all the same.

He wiggles slightly in excitement, forgetting himself a little in his joy, then remembers he's supposed to be a 'sexy, serious cowboy-man' and schools his expression. He doesn't even notice the amused twitch of your lips at his slip. "I'm new to town and I hear you're the person to come to when there's trouble."

"Oh, there's trouble, is there?" You hum and shuffle to sit up against the headboard. You're internally very relieved when he removes the horse and props it against the wall. It's much easier to take him seriously when he's standing there in all his ridiculously handsome glory.

"Yes, ma'am." Oh, you could get used to him saying those words in that voice, pitched slightly lower than normal and a little rough. Maybe their 'cowboy meetings' have been more successful than you've realised. Because Mingyu, nor his friends, have improved very much in the actual horse riding aspect of being a modern-day cowboy. But at least the voice is getting good.

"Sounds serious."

"It is." He steps a little closer, hands on his hips and you can't tell if it's intentional or not but it draws your eyes to his crotch in those tiny boxers leaving nothing to the imagination. Not that you need to imagine what he's packing underneath when he's always so willing to let you see, and feel, and taste. "Do you think you can help a cowboy out, ma'am?"

"Keep calling me ma'am and it sounds pretty likely." You mutter and lift your gaze back up to his face. He's smirking at you now, well aware of how much you love his body. "Tell me, what's the issue, cowboy?"

"Well, you see, it involves a certain critter," You try not to giggle at him using the term critter, you can't help it when all you can think of is the endearing way he and his friends will call any living animal or insect critter; often in a loud screech when a bug flies too close to them.

"Ooh, I see. You have a critter problem."

"That I do, ma'am."

"And a big strong cowboy like you can't handle a single critter?"

"I'm more skilled with the bigger critters."

"So this critter is small?" You wonder how many times the two of you will use the term critter, it really does not help set the mood, just amuses you honestly. This situation has already devolved in your mind and Mingyu hasn't even noticed, he's still very serious about his big-boy cowboy role-play.

"Yes," His face drops. "Wait, no! It's not." He pouts a little, barely a little protrusion of his bottom lip.

"So it's not big enough for you to handle yourself, but it's not small?" He nods and slips back into character. "How big is it exactly?"

"Big enough." You think you understand what he's trying to do here. But you're willing to let it play out at least.

"Okay, give it to me."

"Give it to you?" His eyes round out a little with the excitement those words bring him.

"I mean, tell me what it is." You correct and try not to giggle at the disappointed little oh he lets out, understanding the miscommunication there.

Though, once again, he gets right back into character and locks his serious, sultry gaze on you as the tips of his thumbs hook into the waistband of his boxers without removing his hands from his hips. "There's a snake in my pants." Yup, that's about exactly where you thought he was going with this.

"I can't believe you've defiled my childhood like that, Mingyu." You deadpan, unimpressed. His arms drop along with his expression.

"What? What did I do wrong? It's just a line!" He whines. "Wonwoo taught it to me!"

"Wonwoo?" You sigh. "Baby, what have I told you about listening to Wonwoo where sex is involved?"

"That he's wrong that sitting in the tree outside our window with binoculars isn't a natural biology lesson no matter if he takes notes." He replies in very much the tone of a man who has had those very words drilled into him many times.

"I…well yes, that is a very good one, thank you for remembering." Mingyu perks up a little at your approving response. "But that's not what I meant."

"Uhm," He thinks hard. "That he's wrong that you have to bark during doggy style." That particular memory sends shivers down your spine, you had hoped to forget it.

"Also very correct and please don't bring that up again."

"I'm sorry, I really thought he knew what he was talking about!" Mingyu defends quickly. "He's so smart, baby!"

"Uh," You don't know how to respond. Wonwoo is not smart, he may look scholarly with his glasses and cardigans when he's lounging around, but he is, like your boyfriend, just another pretty himbo. All four of the group are and you still can't tell who's the worst of them. Still, you adore the four and would never change a thing about any of them, even if their dumbassery has caused a lot of trouble since they moved to town. So you move on. "The point is, Gyu, you shouldn't listen to Wonwoo's sex advice, ever. Remember that?"

"Oh, right, yeah, you've said that before." He nods slowly in understanding, looking kind of dejectedly down at the bedframe. He looks like a scolded puppy, it pulls your heartstrings enough to want to try and salvage the situation.

"Was this whole roleplay Wonwoo's idea?" You wonder. Mingyu looks up at you and shakes his head, lips pouted cutely at you and eyes big. "Yours?"

"Yeah. And Seungcheol's. You've never told me not to take sex advice from him!"

Okay, you have to admit, Seungcheol is probably the only one from Mingyu's three besties that you think would give pretty decent sex advice, you know he at least has active ongoing experience with a friend of your own and they've always sung his praises. Wonwoo is…well nobody knows for sure if Wonwoo has ever actually had sex. He kind of gives off horny virgin energy, honestly whenever sexual conversations come up but he's always been pretty smooth when flirting so it could go either way. And the fourth of their group is precious, naive Seokmin; you know he has experience himself but he's a very sweet guy and always seems scandalised when anything out of vanilla is mentioned.

"Okay, then I'm willing to pick this back up if you really want to try it, sweetheart."

"I do!" Mingyu beams and suddenly looks as if you've offered him the world on a silver platter, drizzled in sweet syrup ready for him to slurp up. Oh, does that remind you of another one of his slightly less questionable bedroom surprises. But that's an entirely different story. "Okay, okay," Mingyu takes a few breaths to calm his visible joy, it's so cute watching him bring his hands up as he inhales deeply then turn and push them palms downwards to the floor as he exhales.

He may have some very odd ideas, but man, did you score an adorable sweetheart of a boyfriend who you hope will never change and always remain this way. You've not even been together that long, just a handful of months really, but you're pretty sure he's it for you. Your forever. The one you want to spend the rest of your life with.

When he's collected himself, he turns back to you and decides to entirely bypass the whole snake in his pants section, wisely so you think, and starts to remove the ropes from around his torso. He only knocks his hat off twice, though you barely notice because now all you can think about is the fact that it seems like you won't be the one to have to bring up bondage.

While you're wondering if your big beefy boyfriend is about to hogtie you and have his way with you, Mingyu gathers the long rope in his right hand and then takes one end into his left. It's then that you notice the very distinct large loop in one end.

Horror spreads through your body as you realise that Kim Mingyu has brought a fucking lasso into the bedroom. "Gyu-" You start in warning yet he's already pulling his arm back and launching the rope in your general direction. You yelp automatically, expecting to get hit in the face, yet it doesn't touch you. There's a loud crash on your right so you look over only to find that the only remaining one of the pair of bedside lamps is now in pieces on the hardwood flooring, the loop of Mingyu's lasso caught around the shade. It's like the balloon incident all over again. And now you have no bedside lamps, thanks to Kim Mingyu.

There's pure silence for a tense few seconds as you both stare dumbly at the mess on the floor.

Mingyu's whisper breaks the silence "Fuck." And then you burst into howling laughter. "Babe!" He whines but you can't stop, toppling over onto your side on the bed with the power of your laughs.

The whole situation has been a mess from start to finish. It's a miracle you lasted this long without some kind of breakdown. You're just glad it's the laughing kind and not the mental kind.

It takes a minute of poutily grumbling about working him hard on the scenario, learning how to tie a lasso knot and modelling endless hats and boots for his friends so they can help him pick the right ones before the humour of it all actually hits Mingyu.

It starts with a little giggle and then he looks between you and the broken lamp a few times and has to flop across the bed as he laughs along with you, uncaring that his hat falls off.

Slowly, both of you stop laughing and calm enough to look at each other. You're still grinning like fools and there are tear tracks down your cheeks from it, but you're happy. He's happy. That's all that matters.

Mingyu shuffles over to you in a manner that makes giggles bubble out of your throat until he's on his side close enough to lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you," He informs gently when he pulls back to look adoringly into your eyes. Your expression softens and quickly melts into the mirror of his own as you brush your fingertips over his cheek.

"I love you too." You reply, smiling as he lays his hand over the back of yours to hold it in place as he turns his head to kiss your palm, planting his love right there where you can keep it safe for as long as you want to. And then he looks back at you and holds your palm to his cheek. "Just no more lassos in the bedroom,"

Mingyu laughs and nods in agreement. "No more lassos in the bedroom."

"House in general. Indoors. No lassos indoors."

"Okay, baby," He giggles and kisses you once more sweetly before getting up and picking his hat up off the mattress to plop on your head when you sit up. You adjust it so that you can watch as he crouches down beside the broken lamp to begin cleaning up the mess you made. And as you watch him, there's only one thought on your mind.

Yeah, he really is it for you.

A/N- Believe it or not, the original idea that caused this one has a much higher crack content and I may have to write that too. This story can be considered a spin-off of that, or one in the collection of the same universe focused on the 4 himbos and their adventures.

[deathbxnny]

So remember that prompt i sent to you? Well here’s the request! Can i request Neuvilette, Zhongli, and Dainsleif meeting the alternate version of their dead lover? Like how would they act around the reader during their respective Archon quest? (Example, Zhongli acting weird around the reader when they were gathering materials for Rex Lapis’s funeral)

Context:

The said character used to have a lover that had died a gruesome death centuries ago. And despite the years passing by, he still hasn't really gotten over their death. He wishes he could see his dead lover again and that wish came true as when he met the traveler, he met them too but it wasn't the one had fallen in love with. It was an alternate version of his dead lover.

The reader is an alternate version of said character's dead lover. They're from another universe (maybe HSR?) and somehow got isekaied to Teyvat. Fortunately, they got dropped at the same beach Traveler and Paimon was resting in the prologue. After talking with the traveler and realizing they are in another universe, the reader decides to join the traveler in traveling Teyvat and try to find a way to go back home. Although the last thing they expect was an ancient man acting strange around them.

(Side note: The characters are not in love with the reader (who’s the alt version of their dead lover) as he did not fall for this version of his lover. Its more of a longing? Like “so close yet so far” kind of case? I hope that makes sense)

- Flower Anon 🌸

Hello Flower anon! I have finally found the time to do your request, so I hope you like this and thank you for your great ask!!<33

(Also, due to the fact that I barely remember most story quests, I've decided to generalize these a little-)

Content: Reader is dead, past romantic relationships, doppelgangers, vague descriptions of readers death, angst, hurt/no comfort, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette took a double take, a really obvious one that made the Traveler and Paimon glance at eachother in confusion at his strong reaction. His usually calm and collected persona slipped, the disbelief spreading across his face before he tried to hide it behind a cough quickly. His heart was beating out of his chest, thousands of questions plaguing his mind at once, until you nervously asked him if he was okay.

It took him only a small moment to collect himself, a deep exhale releasing all the grief, horror, and pain with it. He smiled calmly once more, chuckling as he waved off your concerns. "I felt ill." He'd say, not elaborating any further as he asked you to please continue telling him about your mission to expose the truth behind his own archon. He doesn't react further than that and stays professional to his bestest ability.

He knows it's not really you, after all. And he refuses to hurt himself any further than your death already had. This was a mere coincidence, a cruel joke of the universe that made him want to laugh bitterly.

Instead, however, the rain poured down for a week straight, despite his best efforts to stay strong.

》ZHONGLI

Zhongli doesn't have a visible reaction and strictly keeps it that way when meeting you for the first time whilst you were helping him with the "funeral". This alternative version of you seemed to be the same on the surface. But he could easily tell that you still weren't his lover that he lost so many years ago. And he supposed that it was for the best to let the past go through befriending you at least.

He observes you closely, often finding himself still reminiscing in the small actions you do share with his original muse, whilst he delves into deeper conversations with you. But that's his limit. Whether out of the respect for the dead or his need to distance himself from the tragedy that once befell you, he didn't know. But he just couldn't interact with you further than that.

He simply watches you from afar instead, as you prepare everything for the grimm festivities, his heart secretly yearning for another awfully familiar smile his way despite everything.

》DAINSLEIF

Dainsleif felt breathless at the sight of you, and for a moment, he wondered if he had imagined you. A past he desperately held onto drifted through his mind, your image perfectly clear in his memory, his heart aching desperately with the need to hold you again after the fall of your nation. Unsaid, regret filled words burned on his tongue before he swallowed them as swift as the emotions that overwhelmed him.

He ignored Paimons' inquiry over his somehow even paler face, before turning to the important mission at hand. That wasn't you, he reminded himself grimly. This doppelganger that seemed so much like you was just a pure coincidence, nothing more, nothing less. And yet those reminders did little to quell the uneasiness and ill feeling in his stomach. The memory of your death replayed over and over again endlessly for all eternity to come.

And even if it did happen to be a reincarnation of you after all, Dainsleif would have still refused to reach out to you more than he already has through the unknowing traveler and Paimon. He didn't see himself as deserving to be in your presence. That privilege had been taken from him the moment you took your last breath.

[remus-poopin]

There's this underlying theme of motherhood being under-looked in Harry Potter - Voldemort underestimates Lily, Molly is seen as this frumpy housewife, etc... and JKR thinks she's blowing everyone out of the water by then making motherhood the single most important thing i the story!

Yet! Not a single working mother! In the entire series! "The struggles of motherhood" is JKR's favourite card to invalidate trans women's experiences, and yet she seems to have an (unsurprisingly) narrow mind when it comes to what motherhood can look like.

Here's an example that comes to mind: in the context of the second war, with Remus being a man persecuted by both the Ministry and Death Eaters for his condition and position in the Order, there was no reason for him to marry Tonks. I'm not talking about "building a family" or "being together", I'm talking about signing wedding papers.

Personally, I think JKR places a weird amount of value on traditional marriage, and upholds the ideal of a nuclear family above all things. She could not have Tonks giving birth a baby without being married to a man first.

YEP!

For the Tonks/Lupin issue you can’t even blame this fully on the fact it’s being written in a children’s book because JKR’s description of their relationship later on pottermore falls into the same traditional (and honestly puritanical) traps. And like you mentioned, this doesn’t even make sense for their story/relationship. (there’s an implication that they were only just friends until that confrontation in HBP and were never actually together or even hooking up. Most remadora shippers, like myself, tend to not like this version of events because it makes their whole marriage/relationship look a bit ridiculous. Tonks’ behavior in HBP comes off a lot different if they never had any romantic interactions at that point. It also seems odd that they would get married in less than a month of being together if they were strictly platonic up until that point)

And yes her view of motherhood is incredibly limiting and a bit revealing. In general it’s used as a tool which to measure her female characters by: The non maternal/improperly maternal women are clearly marked as villains (Rita Skeeter, Umbridge, Petunia, Bellatrix, Marge), the maternal ones are seen as demonstrating proper femininity and are therefore good (Lily, Molly, Tonks), women who were looked down upon previously get a redemption arc focusing around this (Narcissa) (Fleur can also fit into this category as she takes on a Molly like role in DH) and the women who don’t have kids but are still supposed to be seen positively look after kids to some capacity (McGonagall)

Her use of motherhood in the terf rhetoric she spreads is stemming from a similar idea. Gender essentialists tend to highlight female suffering as their primary justification for their exclusionary behavior, whether this suffering be biological or societal. Suffering and pain is used to define femininity itself. Suffering, female suffering, is noble, divine, inherent, and honorable. Motherhood, like you mentioned, is one of the biological sufferings they reference for their argument. The pain of giving birth and the sacrifice of your body and the rest of your life is noble, divine, inherent, and honorable.

In the books motherhood is suffering and motherhood is sacrifice. A woman who accepts this role of pain achieves righteousness. A woman who rejects it is selfish and wicked.