#I'm just falling apart and trying so hard to look and act like I'm not for my brother

[prismatica-the-strange]

.

#i have been trying so hard the last couple of months to be happy and supportive about my brother graduating #And I am happy for him i mean he did it. he got through high school! #but I've also been dreading it #cause all this talk about graduating and my mom saying she's 'new to this' is the biggest reminder that I didn't #that i got kicked out because of my anxiety disorder and even though i tried again remote over covid #I wouldn't have gotten enough credits to graduate #i put in over four years with pain. migraines. anxiety. shitty ableist teachers and doctors. and I even want BACK and it wasn't enough #between all that and see all my friends and peers exceeding at life when I have a hard time leaving the house on a good day #I'm just falling apart and trying so hard to look and act like I'm not for my brother #now my dad is. doing what my dad does and accusing me of trying to 'agitate' people? (i offered a single suggestion to a potential problem) #and now it's all culminated into a panic attack in my room and Idk if i can physically go to support my brother #Which means another thing I won't be in pictures for and i just don't know how much longer i can do this #vent post #prisma rambles in the tags #anxiety tw #panic attack tw

[kleem-o]

Choose me her : Gojo x reader

a/n: ok i keep seeing gojo (basically jjk) everywhere and i noticed i haven't written any angst yet so here y'all go <;33

"oh come on Y/N, you're being ridiculous!!"

Were you though? Was it so wrong for you to feel jealous, upset, betrayed when his "girl best friend" was all over him? And he let her be? It has always been like this, way before you and Gojo started dating, he was already "close" with the woman you wished to be would go away. You tried so hard to stop the disgusting green envy, the feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach, the feeling of starless lonely nights. But you just can't. Several times Gojo would tell you it was nothing, several times he said he would always choose you over her. Why should he have to choose in the first place? Why was she an option? You finally had enough earlier this day when you saw her all over your man, hugging his chest while laughing at some stupid joke your boyfriend made, at a little get together you, Gojo, and some of his friends had. You always felt left out. As if you were just some bystander, watching him have the time of his life, without you. But you fought, you fought hard. You tried so many times to get along with everyone, to get along with her. And many times you failed. It was as if there was some barrier you couldn't cross, a special bond that "best friends" had. When you and Gojo finally arrived at your little apartment, you decided to confront him about it.

"Is it so hard to just tell her to know her boundaries- our boundaries?! You know damn well what you and her are doing!"

"What the hell are you talking about?? She's my best friend of course we're close, look baby I know you think there's something more, but there really isn't! You're just overthinkin-"

"Don't you dare Gojo Satoru... Don't turn this on me! Stop acting like I'm the crazy one when you guys are borderline cheating!!" Your vision was starting to blur with tears, years of frustration finally coming out. You felt small, a small voice in your head questioning you was this really something worth fighting about, what if you really are overreacting? But an even bigger voice tells you that enough is enough.

"Okay look, you're just tired okay? We can talk about this tomorro-"

"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS TOMORROW, WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS NOW!! I spent YEARS putting up with this Satoru, YEARS!! And you can't even spend a bit of your time to talk about this right now!??"

"Look this isn't getting us anywhere, we're both tired. I'll listen to you tomorrow, let's just" you flinched away from his touch when he tried to pull you to go to the bedroom. He looked shock, only proving that he didn't know how hurt you were, how small you felt, how unimportant you felt. "Do you like her?" You were now crying, your voice shaking, though you try your best to hide how weak you felt right now, you tried your best to preserve what little pride you had. "What the fuck?? How many times do I have to tell you I DON'T. She's just a friend!"

"You're always with her!! And the way she's literally all over you??"

"That's how we've always been! Y/N, I knew her way before I knew you-"

"So what??? That gives her a pass to act like your girlfriend??"

"She's not acting like my girlfriend, god Y/N, we've been together for years, you still don't trust me??"

"Stop gaslighting me!!"

"I'M NOT!! I'm literally just telling you, this. is. insane. We've been through this a million fucking times, and maybe if you just listened, and trusted me, this fight wouldn't happen."

Your eyes widened as you couldn't believe what you were hearing. This is crazy. Every moment that goes by feels like daggers to your heart, every breath you take feels sharp, it feels like you could fall anytime now. "Is it that hard to just listen to me? Is it that hard to respect me?" You wiped the tears falling on your cheeks, you refuse to let him see you like this, you refused to bow, just like how you were doing all these time. Gojo brought his hand to his face as he let out a frustrated sigh.

"You're the one not listening. How am I supposed to avoid her when she's one of my best friends?? Aren't you asking for too much? I love you but I can't be friends with anyone else? Isn't this too much?"

"Friends don't act like that. I bet if someone was acting like that to me, you'd be upset too, but noo I wouldn't dare try to hurt you the way you hurt me." You were starting to shake with frustration? Anger? As your tears continued to fall. He took your arm to try and hug you "Come on Y/N, we can talk about this in the morning"

"friends don't act like that, why don't you choose her as your girlfriend instead"

"Yeah, WELL MAYBE I WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER OFF WITH HER THAN YOU"

Gojo shouted as his patience ran out, feeling nothing but frustration, why couldn't you get it? He loved you not her. Did you not trust him? But just as quickly as those words left his mouth, he realized how contradicting it was. Gojo felt nauseous as panic made his heart feel like it was running a marathon. Regret was evident in his eyes, while resolution was evident in yours. You had enough. The room was silent for what felt like an eternity, none of you moved, it felt like something was gonna swallow you both whole if you moved, like nothing could ever fix the damage done. You felt empty, relieved in a weird way, now you know how he really felt. The relief of your paranoia being justified outweighed the pain of being disregarded. But Gojo was the complete opposite, he's so scared. He couldn't lose you, he really did love you, so so much. He knew he fucked up but he'd do anything to fix it, he'd even stop talking to his girl best friend, even block any girl for you. He had to fix this. "Baby-"Just as he was about to reach out to you, you quickly left the apartment. Just like that. No words, no goodbyes, just shattered feelings but a head held high, you refuse to be stepped on any longer.

As you exited the apartment, Gojo was left all alone, and the apartment filled with loving memories of you and him felt suffocating. And maybe, for the first time in a poetic fucked up way, he knew how you felt, small.

Part 2 here

a/n: could y'all tell this was a bit from experience? lol

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk anime #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst #angst #drabble fic #drabbles #gojo drabbles #gojo imagine #x reader

[entirelytoooobsessed]

hi.

i offer you: sex worker toji. he lets you fuck him (till he's crying and all used up) for the money but gets addicted to your touch.

this was so much fun to write!!

warnings: amab dom reader, sub toji, marking, slight breeding kink crying, feelings

"ahhh~"

why did he have to look so damn pretty?

chest rising up and down in rapid breaths, pecs covered in marks, soon to be joined by more as your lips gravitated to his nipples-hard and the prettiest shade of pink as your teeth gently sunk into one, fingers pinching at the neglected other

"asshole," his hand weakly batted at the back of your head, useless as his hoarse voice and half-hearted glare. "i told you not to leave anything, i have another client afterrr-"

you speed up entirely too fast, leaving him trying to grasp onto the threads of reality, his words only breaking off into a prolonged whine, pathetic and needy as his fist grapples into your hair like a lifeline. "fuck-don't stop, don't stoooop~"

fuck-why does your dick have to be so big? fucking him open like none of the others do, splitting him apart and leaving a drooling dumb mess-his spent body writhing against yours even when he's used up and has nothing left to give, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of him like it's your fucking day job.

like you're not the one paying an obscene amount of money to blow his back out.

"-nghh~" his body curls around yours, thick legs squeezing around your hips, strong arms clinging around your shoulders, pulling you into him, closer and closer. "shit, shit! i'm so close~ fuck don't stop!"

"you sound like a cheap whore, act like one too." you laugh, under your breath, between pants-fuck why was that so hot?

"f-fuck you-"

you didn't even dignify him with a response, pistoning your hips against his hard enough for the bed to start rocking.

skin slapping against skin, the lewd feeling of cum dripping down his thighs, the idea that tomorrow he wouldn't be able to even walk properly much less take a client in who knows how long since you've started fucking him like some untamed beast.

his head buried into the crook of your neck in exhaustion, panting in rhythm with the beat of your heart against his, in the pulsing of your dick inside of him. you're close. he knows your body too well not to know.

“j-just a little more baby," he couldn't help it, his eyes squeezed shut as you lifted his hips off the bed, gripping into his skin as you used his body like a toy, "...fuck, you feel so good, m gonna cum, gonna fill you up-” a ragged gasp hitched in your throat, moaning as his grip tightened and somehow you began to pick up the pace more-

"ahh, please, please, please-!" he was losing it, he was going to lose it. with tears tracking down his face and his body sore and used and bubbling over the top with pure ecstasy-all he needed now-all he needed now was. “please, fuck i need it, need your cum! wan' it in me so bad” he croaks, babbling and sputtering on his saliva.

your body tensed against his and a sob escaped his throat, long and ruined as you thrust once, twice more with a long groan as liquid warmth exploded inside of him, making him feel so hot and safe and-

you groan, long and deep, lips placed beside his ear as he clutches you to his chest further.

not letting you go.

never letting you go.

not if it was up to him a least.

"stay." you mutter, even if you know it's never worked to keep him before.

his fingers lazily tangle in your hair, glazed over green eyes looking up at the ceiling, unfairly long lashes fluttering as he fights the urge to squeeze them shut.

to fall asleep with you in his arms like this.

you told him you liked his eyes once, pushed his chin up so they'd meet yours as you commented on the shade. it made him blush and he hated it.

hated that you were able to tug on his heartstrings like that-like nothing. like you weren't just paying to use his body and nothing else. you didn't want him. you wanted sex with someone that just so happened to be him.

and it wasn't fair because he-...he...

wanted you without the money and the flashy cars and designer clothes.

and imagined you when he was with his other clients.

and was addicted the way that your fingers were still playing with his body like he belonged to you, slowly thrusting into him again with long deep strokes that left him shuddering. still careful to not overstimulate him as teeth nipped at the shell of his ear.

"stay with me tonight."

his mind was blank besides the sensations of your skin pressed against his, besides one small word that would change everything.

suddenly your nails dug into his hips, lifting and shifting him the way you wanted to-the way he would let you.

maneuvering him to straddle you, failing to hold back a smirk at his whine as your cock slipped out of him.

"c'mon baby," you weren't good for him. you and your cocky smile that made him want to ride you until he was dumb. your hands, holding him to your chest as you slowly dragged him over your dick, tip catching at the rim each time you glided him over your length. "you can leave in the morning~"

author's note: this is so messy😭it's written in different tenses and the grammar and sentence structure is shit but please excuse my 4am horniness for sexworker toji

and hopefully you enjoyed~ yet another short fic that i want to turn into a full one-but one day when i have more time!😭

#dom reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #dom!reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sub jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sub toji #toji smut #toji x reader #sub!toji #sub!jjk #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #dom male reader #dom! reader

[jinnie-ret]

9th member reader passing out on stage during tour because theyve been pushing themselves hard for the tour. forgetting to eat sometimes, pushing themselves in the gym, pushing themselves during practice (not in a punishing themselves way just a getting caught up in the work and not realising how harsh theyre being on themselves way). it all just gets too much during a concert and they just drop, maybe one of the boys catch her before she can hit the floor too hard. the boys beating themselves up a bit for not noticing how hard they were pushing themselves.

don't push yourself

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: reader not taking care of herself

word count: 2.1k

summary: you thought you were doing the right thing for yourself, but it was only a matter of time before your habits became unhealthy, and the boys didn't even notice until it was too late.

Here it is! I hope you enjoy it! :))

Asks are currently shut!

But let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist and reblog if you enjoyed! <3

MAIN MASTERLIST

With an early rise, there was bound to be a fall at some point.

Whether that was into your bed, when you finally returned back to the dorms from a late night practice; on the sofa of Chan's studio; or to the stage floor of the concert you were rehearsing for.

But we'll get to that later.

The boys hadn't noticed at the start what you had been doing to yourself. You were being more strict with your diet, going to the gym every morning with Changbin, and staying longer at practice. They just saw it as you being their fellow determined member who was trying to improve your health.

And yes, you were seeing improvements, quickly, in fact. But it wasn't healthy. Not that you knew that.

"You should have seen her! She lifted 70kg today!" Changbin boasted with pride, arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both returned from the gym.

Han and Hyunjin had been eating breakfast in the kitchen upon your arrival, so it was the perfect audience for Changbin to show you off to. Chan was probably already at the studio.

"70kg?! I think you can lift more than me now... I can't even lift a spoon," Han laughs.

"Our Han is so squishy," Hyunjin said in an over the top voice and started poking his stomach and arms.

"Yah! Yah!" Han laughed loudly as he shoved Hyunjin away, all four of you laughing.

"Come on, Y/Nnie, show us those muscles of yours," Hyunjin made grabby hands towards your arms, so in return you tensed.

"Woah, your muscles are so big now!" Han's eyes widened.

"Yes I'm secretly training to beat you all up," you did your best to tiredly joke.

"Not much of a secret, plus, you could never beat me," Changbin smirked, ruffling your hair as he went to take a shower.

"Wanna test that theory?" you called after him, pretending to march along the same path he took to his room.

It was easier then, to joke around and act like everything was normal, because you were yet to spiral.

"Y/Nnie? What are you doing here?" Jeongin questioned confused as you walked into the apartment he shared with Seungmin, Felix and Lee Know. You must have not only grabbed the wrong key, but walked back from JYP to the wrong apartment.

"Huh? Innie? Oh, I must have gone to the wrong place," you mumble tiredly, putting your bag down nonetheless.

"You look exhausted... it's 1am! What are you doing up?" Jeongin stood up to analyse your tired figure, one that had also changed from you becoming stricter in yourself.

"I just came back from practising... what are you still doing up?" you looked up at the maknae, poking his cheek lazily.

"From practice? At this time? I was just watching some show on TV," he shrugged, tugging you to sit down next to him.

"What's going on?" a sleepy Felix rubbed his eyes as he entered the lounge, jumping back slightly when he noticed you were there.

"I'm not that scary looking am I, Lixie?" you managed to tease, your head rested against Jeongin's shoulder.

"No! No... I was just shocked to see you're here, why aren't you at the other apartment, did you have an argument?" Felix joined you on the sofa, stealing some of the blanket you and Jeongin had.

"She's so tired she came back to the wrong place," Jeongin laughed, rubbing your head.

"Wah! Y/N you're the first to do that out of us all!" Felix giggled.

"Shouldn't have given me a spare key," you yawned as you stretched your arms, wincing when you did so.

"I'm glad we did by the looks of it, did you push yourself?" Felix brushed some hair out of your face after seeing your pained expression.

"No, no, it's nothing like that..." you trailed off.

"Then what is it?" Jeongin began, "if you didn't push yourself then what is it? Did you not get any sleep last night?"

"I guess so..." you complied with his theories in aid of not having to reveal what you had really been doing.

Surely this wasn't a bad thing though? The concern in their voices was beginning to make you feel differently but you know you were only doing this to better yourself.

"Ah you need to be more careful," Felix tsked, pulling the blanket tighter around you.

"You can't burrito me to death," you tried to fight against the Aussie that was currently swaddling you.

"Oh, but I can."

Another night, you were back at your apartment (the right one) and were currently cooking yourself dinner as everyone else had already eaten. With a pyjama vest and shorts on, it was weird to think how you hadn't noticed the bruises that painted your muscles.

"Ah you're awake now, wait, what happened?" Chan entered the kitchen, happy to see you were awake but alarmed at the sight of your arms.

"Huh? What do you mean?" you questioned as you chopped some veggies.

"Your arms, they've got bruises, lots of them, what happened? Did someone do this to you?" Chan interrogated you all of a sudden.

"What?! No!" you glanced down at your arms and sighed, no wonder they ached so much. "I've just been working out a lot more."

"This looks like a hell of a lot more, you sure you're taking it easy? I mean, I know you go to the gym with Changbin now but that doesn't mean you have to try and match him," Chan sighed, unable to take his eyes off of the purple marks on you.

"Hey, my eyes are up here," you laughed, nudging Chan.

"Y/N..." he sighed, not in the mood for joking around when he could see that you were hurt.

"Chan, it's fine. My body just probably isn't used to it yet, but look, I'm sticking to a good plan, I've got veggies and chicken breast in so I'm getting in my gains like a proper gym bro," you laugh.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're at least eating, just, take it easy, yeah?" he smiled then, patting your back as he returned to presumably his room.

You thought your mind was getting stronger, but your body was getting weaker. Practising had taken priority over your eating.

"Let's go one more time," Lee Know instructed everyone, watching the moves of his members with sharp eyes at the mirror as he danced at the front.

And to your disdain, you stumbled.

"Shit," you put a hand to your forehead, feeling disappointed in yourself.

"Our Y/Nnie can't keep on her own two feet," Lee Know teased, but upon seeing that your expression didn't change at his light-hearted joke, he came over to you.

"Hey, it's ok, I was just kidding," he tried to bend slightly to look into your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I just, wanna get it right, you know?" you sighed.

"I've seen you perform this dance amazingly multiple times, don't be so harsh on yourself," he nodded at you before returning to the front of the mirror.

But how could you not be harsh on yourself when everything needed to be perfect?

"Woah, I'm impressed, I've never seen you got a note like that!" Seungmin applauded you on one of your duo vlives.

Fans flooded the comments spamming hearts and mentioning how impressed they also were at you, being a rapper of the group, hitting high notes.

"I've been practising," you waved him off, hiding your face shyly

"Yeah, with who? Ailee sunbaenim?!" he tried to peek at your hoodie covered face.

"Woah you can't compare me to Ailee sunbaenim!" you laughed at him.

You continued to sing together, yet at the end you were getting breathless. And so, after the vlive ended, Seungmin couldn't help but bring it up.

"You sounded pretty breathless at the end..."

"I know, I know, I need to do better," you sighed.

"No it's not that! I'm just a bit worried about you..." he brushed off your doubts.

"Why? I'm fine," you shrugged him off.

"Ok, whatever you say, just take care of yourself, yeah?" he allowed you to brush away his doubts the same way he did to yours, as you both left the company.

And so this cycle of constantly trying to go past the boundaries of your limits continued. All the way into your second concert of your Maniac World Tour.

It had all been going so well. Everyone was on an adrenaline rush and loving the crowd's support. Apart from you. Your body was slowly but surely bound to shut down eventually, you just wished it didn't happen with your stays so happy, because you knew as soon as you hit the floor, you would have taken that away.

"Y/Nnie!!!" screamed the fans as your body slumped and didn't get back up.

The members instantly turned to where you had been performing. It hadn't even been a high energy choreo, because this time, you were simply moving around the stage to interact more with the fans.

You would have scolded yourself if you had a single coherent thought in your exhausted state.

"Somebody help!" Chan worriedly waved over some staff from backstage as they lifted you off.

"Please excuse us stays, everything will be ok, we will be back with you in a moment," Lee Know hurriedly tried to calm the crowd of tearful stays before rushing after his fellow members who surrounded you.

"Come on, Y/N, wake up," Hyunjin patted your face, trying to help you come back to reality.

"Hmmm," you groaned, a pounding feeling in your head.

"Oh thank God!" Han sighed in relief, hand on his quickly beating heart.

"What happened?" you mumbled tiredly as you were sat up by two staff members who fanned you and handed you some water with a straw to sip from.

"You just collapsed out there!" Felix said with wide eyes.

"Oh," you simply said, not wanting to confront what could have happened to you.

"Oh? Just, oh? Y/N, what happened out there?" Chan sternly said from next to you, squeezing your hand to offer reassurance despite his strict demeanor.

"I don't know... One second I was talking to the fans and the next..."

"You... you haven't been taking care of yourself have you?" Hyunjin burst out with his question, unable to hold back his words no longer.

"I have, I've been going to the gym, I've been practising hard-" you began, before you were cut off.

"How didn't I realise?" Changbin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Realise what, hyung?" Seungmin asked curiously.

"Y/N, please tell me you've been eating and not living off of those energy drinks I see you have every morning," Changbin crouched down in front of you, begging that he was wrong in thinking that.

"Yeah, I ate dinner, umm, it was when, ummm," you stumbled on your words, unable to remember the last time you ate a proper meal.

And that is when you felt like you failed. You had been doing so well but you couldn't even stick to your plan.

"You can't even remember when you last ate?" Lee Know looked around at the concerned gazes of his other members.

"I'm sorry I don't know why, I... I just wanted to do better," you bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears.

"There are so many better ways to go about it Y/Nnie," Jeongin sighed, rubbing your knee soothingly.

"I'm sorry we didn't notice," Felix said regretfully.

"No, no, please don't apologise, this is on me," you mentally kicked yourself.

"How long, Y/N?" Chan insisted on your response.

"Maybe... 2 months?" you wondered out loud.

They all gasped and shared different responses at your answer.

"Y/Nnie that's not good for you, no wonder you were seeming more tired..." Hyunjin looked away.

"I'm sorry, I really am, I never wanted to worry you all," you apologised sadly, and that is when some stray tears fell delicately down your cheeks.

"We will always worry, you're part of our team," Seungmin bluntly said, yet you could still see the compassion behind his eyes.

"Don't push yourself so hard next time, yeah? Let us know next time and we can help you figure out a way to do this more healthily, just talk to us next time, yeah?" Chan wiped your tears away as Changbin wrapped you in a hug you didn't realise you needed so badly.

"I promise," you whispered, yet everyone heard it amongst the sounds of the crowd, and if they didn't, they still felt the words hanging in the air, a vow that next time, you would take care of yourself, and that they'd always be there to take care of you too.

tagged: @skz-streamer @han-jiquokka @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @kiraisastay

#skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member

[teddybeartoji]

THE LITTLE LAMB AND THE BIG BAD WOLF

on a hunt for supplies, you stumble across someone's belongings. a little bit of theft is fine, right? the cold barrel of a gun at your temple says otherwise.

☆. contains: toji fushiguro x gn!reader; apocalypse au; horror, detailed descriptions of blood and death, slow burn, crack, reader is simultaneously a scaredy-cat and a baddie, toji looks scary oh nooo

☆. word count: 6k

☆. note: the world is based on tlou!!! i am soooo into this fucking concept like i'm officially sucking my own dick here. tagging my beloveds @staryukis & @awearywritersworld bc omfg apocalypse ideas!!!!!! and also @dollsuguru @venusiansilk @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @mossmurdock i love you guys so so much thank you for all your support<3333333

+ here's the masterlist

in a world so fucked up – it's easy to get lost in the darkness.

when the infection took over, everything changed. everything. people aren't people anymore – they've become hosts for a type of fungus known as the cordyceps. it grows all over the brain and takes control of the body, turning the person into something they're not.

if anyone were to ask you how many have you killed, infected or not, you'd be devoid of an answer.

it's hard to find your way when just about everything is out to get you. infected or not – there's always something ready to tear you into pieces, to sink their teeth into your soft flesh – that's just the way things are now.

but you're used to it. used to the feeling of adrenaline pumping in your veins as you run from a horde, used to the feeling of a blade at your throat, used to the feeling of a punch, of a slap. used to the constant grumble in your stomach, used to the sore legs and shoulders, used to cleaning off blood from yourself and your clothes, from your weapons. you're used to the gurgling and clicking, the crying and sobbing, the begging and pleading.

but no matter how much you tell yourself that you've grown used to the horrors of the new world, you cannot escape the anxiety that hides under every inch of your skin. it's always with you – holding your clammy hand as it drags you into the depths, into the shadows. you try to fight it but it's hard.

it's hard forcing away the only thing that holds you so tight, the only thing that truly cares for you. it's is a suffocating blanket that hides you from the cruelty of the world, trying its best to shelter you from it all. it's better to stay inside. it's better to stay away. they're going to hurt you. something is here. just stay here with me, under the warm blanket. they're coming. it's going to hurt. let's stay here forever.

don't you want it to stop?

being torn apart by the cold crippling fear and the warm rotting hands – it's getting harder and harder to breathe. but you've learned how to keep them at bay over the years; always in the line of sight, always on your mind. there's no rest for the wicked.

moonlight leads the way as you make your way to a shopping mall. the wind howls in your ears and sends a shiver down your spine. moss and ivy cover the walls of the massive building, swallowing it bit by bit, making it a part of the nature as the time passes.

the axe in your hand feels heavy, but right nonetheless. the handle is stained with blood; it has seeped deep into the wood and now acts as an extra weight to the blade. a small 9mm handgun sits pretty in the holster around your thigh, a knife hides in its leather sheath on your belt, a bow rests on your shoulder and a few arrows peek from your bag.

despite the armory, your bag hasn't been this empty in a while. the blame falls on a group of men you ran into a week or so back. precious ammo and resources were spent on the bastards, and while the blood reward was good - the lack of food and meds is now becoming concerning. your shoulder still hurts from the fall, a big dark bruise transforming your skin into a painting of the midnight sky.

you shake the flashlight on the strap of your backpack and listen to the batteries bounce around inside it. you give it a stronger shake and it turns on. the broken glass shines as you carefully step inside the big atrium and take a look around. your little light forces back the creeping shadows, now showcasing you the infected bodies that lay dead on the ground before you.

pools of blood conflux together and paint the tiles a dark shade of maroon; the ichor flows in between the cracks and disappears under the soles of your boots when you step further inside. they're fresh. light reflects off the liquid as you squat down to take a closer look. none of the three bodies seem to have bullet wounds – one of the runner has a slit throat while the other leaks from a hole in the side of the head and the clicker... it's head has been completely bashed in, making it hard to even recognize it as one.

beating up a clicker is not easy by any means; though the fungus growing on their face and head blinds them, it also acts almost like armor. they can take a bullet to the head and still keep coming – the call of death rippling through their body as they run at you, hands reaching out to grab, to pull, to hold.

the fact that they did this, either with their bare hands or some other blunt object, just means that they're good. it also begs the question whether they didn't have the bullets to spare or they simply decided not to use them. you just hope you won't bump into them.

standing up, you take another look around. a trail of bloody footsteps leads right up the escalators and you decide that you won't be going there yet. there are a few more bodies, two runners, sitting limp against the crumbling walls as you step down one of the hallways. the broken tiles and the glass cracks below your feet and you cringe at the noise.

never letting go of the axe in your hand, you stroll past the first stores seeing as they're completely ran through. with a sigh, you make your way over to one of the clothing stores. it's almost pitch black in there and you almost jump out of your skin when a mannequin suddenly falls at your feet. muttering out a row of whispered curses, you lower your axe with a shaky breath and adjust your flashlight. the shelves are pretty empty but that was expected; still, when you open up a cupboard door under one of the mannequin stands, you find a stack of perfectly fine sweatshirts. you check the other side of the piece of furniture and find... nothing. scoffing to yourself, you just bag the a sweatshirt and a pair of pants from another shelf before moving to the next store.

glass breaks and you hear shuffling – head whipping towards the sounds, fingers tightly gripping the axe, you take a step back and bump right into the shelf behind you. pieces of clothing fall onto the floor and a cloud of dust rises from the impact; you pay it no mind as your eyes are still glued to the counter, to where the noise came from, but when after a few second absolutely nothing jumps at you, you let your shoulders relax a little.

a stalker, maybe? but they don't tend to live in open spaces like malls, or so you think at least. the majority of them you've ran into in places like office floors and a fucked up basements – meaning they like to lurk everywhere where it's extra dark and where there are places to hide behind. yeah, they do that. little shits, taking cover behind desks and walls, playing a game of hide and seek that you never agreed to. you're never forgiving yourself for taking that wretched route.

you peek over the counter and look all around it but find jack shit. it's the darkness – it's what it does to you, to everybody. the shadows start to speak and move, the floors creak and crumble, and the growths on the wall whisper your name, no matter, how much you tell yourself that they aren't actually doing any of that that.

it's just the old building crying out from loneliness, the haunted ghosts simply looking for company as people pass by, as the infected pass by. you have to keep your head straight. faint blood marks stain the floor but it's too hard to tell whether those've been there for years or less.

you hastily knock on your flashlight when it begins to flicker, leaving you in the dark for just a blink but it's enough to have your heart thumping loudly in your ribcage.

making your way out of the store, you scour for your next location and ah-ha!

a pharmacy.

two bottles of antibiotics rattle in your bag but those aren't enough. you'll always need more of those, you'll always need more of gauze, painkillers, of everything – going in there is a must.

a metal roll-up door closed mid way is going to make this harder, but as if that isn't ominous enough – the quiet cries coming from behind it only makes the situation worse. a runner. but luckily, it isn't making too much noise and you make an educated guess of it not moving around. they do that when there's nothing to catch and tear apart, when nothing has caught their attention. they stay in random spots and whimper and cry to themselves. it makes them an easy prey.

the thought of the metal door sliding shut just as you're trying to pass under it, is making your stomach churn. and so is the thought of you making too much noise by accident and attracting the runner when you're still down on the ground. stop being a pussy. there could be emergency kits in there, pills, there could be a feast of medications in there and you're holding back. it's unacceptable.

you slowly kneel down to the cold floor and inhale sharply before lowering yourself further down. the only light in the room is yours and it immediately finds the twitching runner.

it is cowering in the corner.

you're just fucking glad they don't react to light as much as they do to noise, otherwise you'd be fucked already.

you crawl in the dust as quietly as you can, careful to not touch any of the furniture beside you that seems to be holding up the door. the last thing you'd want is to get locked in here. or get cut in half. you clench your teeth and push yourself up and to your knees the second you can do so and take a second, as you wait for him to turn around and lunge at you. but he doesn't. his back is still turned to you as he waits for you, sobs for you; his body trembling, hands folded in front of his chest – almost like he's hugging himself.

quietly holstering the axe, you pull out your knife instead. it's quieter. you grip the handle, fingers molding into the dents that have formed over time. another step and the light goes out. it's complete darkness. you hear your own heartbeat in your ears and the miserable cries of the infected just a few feet away. your eyes widen as you try to focus on your surroundings. your hands grow clammy in a matter of a few seconds and panic seeps into your body.

you shake the flashlight a few times and it turns back on. your breath is still stuck in your throat as you try to compose yourself. stupid old thing. the light paints the runner's shadow onto the wall in front of him, making it look like he's a part of some shadow play.

one more step and you're with him, a breath away. your hand goes around his chest, holding his hands and body in place as you sink your blade into his neck. it sinks into skin and flesh like butter, soaking you in the dark red ichor that hides underneath as he gurgles something at you (a thank you perhaps).

yanking the knife back out, the splattering ichor coats your skin and you immediately wipe it off against your shirt. his body falls with a thud! and another big dust cloud rises from the contact and your nose itches— it's— it itches— achoo!

your eyes are an inch away from escaping your head as you spin around, making sure that nothing is jumping at you for making a noise that loud. but surely enough, nothing seems to be interested. exhaling deeply, you rub your nose and force down the embarrassment that's crawling on your skin before starting your hunt for supplies.

it doesn't go as well as you'd hoped – only bagging a few stitching kits and a bottle of painkillers. better than nothing.

ecstatic to get the fuck out of a closed, pitch black room, you crawl back out from under the metal door and dust off your clothes.

strolling through some more stores, you're met with more dead infected. two clickers and two runners, no bullet holes. ignoring the corpses, you manage to find yourself a few nice t-shirts, a pack of boxers and a box of 9mm handgun ammo from under the cash register.

when you've gone through most of the wrecked stores on the first floor, you finally decide to take a look upstairs. the bloody footprints haven't left your mind but the fact that it's been so quiet, makes you think that maybe they did really just pass through here.

the moon light your way as you drag yourself up the escalator. the stars in the sky are barely visible because of the dirt on the ceiling window and you frown.

in front of you there are two hallways with stores on the sides and in the middle. the prints lead to the left side and towards the a lonely door at the end of the coridor; the signs on the walls don't indicate what room it might be – a security one, maybe? shaking your head, you focus on the stores ahead of you. the shop in the center is a big sports one; most of the mannequins have fallen over and their limbs are scattered all over the floor, pairless sneakers rest on top of each other and the shelves are a push away from collapsing into tiny little pieces.

stepping over the bloody clothes, you view the baseball caps on the rack when your light goes out again. you feed on the faint moonlight that's coming from the hallways as you scramble to shake the thing again. steps, you swear you heard steps. the last standing mannequins stare at you from the shadows, laughing at your misfortune. a hand touches your hip and you can't hold back the yelp that slips from your lips. you turn and bump into another statue. the light flickers three times before it actually turns on and you find yourself inches from an eerie smile. intinctively, you give it a firm push as you take a step back, hands shaking as the panic settles down once more.

no one else is here. you can't see whoever could've made the noise and by now you're sure that if something or someone is really hiding in the dark – it would've already made a move if it wanted to. stalkers don't play for that long and neither do humans.

a row of protein bars hide in a drawer in the staff room of the store and you happily throw them in your bag, along with some weird looking granola bars.

the right side of the second floor only offers you a new lighter, three pairs of socks, a can of soda, a simple necklace and a broken watch. what's the point of it if you can't tell time? it looks cool. no other reason.

heading over to the left side of the building, you keep a keen eye on the door. the remaining shops are forgotten the closer you get to where the prints lead and you officially commit to checking out the place.

the blade of your axe shines in the moonlight, your steps extra light as you creep up on the door. readying your weapon, you press down on the handle and quietly push it open. it swings all the way and thumps against the wall. the room is lit up, the windows letting in the natural light. you're greeted with rows of computer and tv screens on the tables, three black duffel bags and some lockers and cabinets next to the walls.

you check the corners of the room and let out a relieved sigh when you don't find anything hiding. closing the door, you carefully step around the broken glass on the floor. it seems to be originating from what used to be a glass case showcasing various medals. awards for the best security guards. how silly that sounds now.

the lockers have been cleared out, the only things left behind being two lovely couple's phots with hand-drawn hearts above their heads. you leave them there. the cabinets don't have anything good either. you glance back at the door for good measure before kneeling down in front of one of the bags on the ground. you pull the zipper and are met with treasure – multiple bars of chocolate, the same sweatshirt you found from the floor below, various cans of canned food, two water bottles and a small knife.

your eyes glint and the corners of your lips twitch upward, your body has a mind of its own as it immediately reaches for the chocolate. glass breaks and your eyes flick to the now ajar door as you reach for the gun on your thigh but when you feel the cold metal of a gun barrel resting against your temple... you freeze.

"don't."

...

your stomach drops, eyes glued to the bag in front of you. the voice is deep and it's rasp, confident and sure of himself; the metal against you doesn't move, it doesn't shake.

you hold your trembling hands out, fingers spread to show that you don't have any intention of grabbing your weapons. a deep breath in and a deep one out. you try to turn your head towards him but he just presses the gun deeper into your skin, forcing your gaze right back down.

his big stature looms over your smaller one and you feel like an ant that's about to be stepped on. he lets you soak in the threatening silence, the only sound being your own racing heartbeat.

"s'rude to steal, y'know."

the man doesn't sound angry, he doesn't sound mad or upset. he sounds... annoyed, if anything.

"i asked you a question."

shit.

"i– i wasn't stealing." you stammer out.

he scoffs. "wasn't stealing? just fondling my shit for fun then?"

the teasing tone makes your eyebrows furrow and you try to turn to look at him again, your body slightly raising from your knees but the gun on your head keeps you down. funny, how heavy a piece of metal can suddenly feel.

"it was empty in here! i didn't know these belonged to anyone! i–i'm sorry! i'll leave, i'll leave!" it's a pathetic slur of words accompanied by a pleading tone and you hope that it'll do the trick.

there are strategies for dealing with people and this is simply one of them.

and it does work because the next thing you know, he's lowering the weapon. you let out a shaky breath before turning to him and fuck.

he's... terrifying.

towering over your kneeling body, he's massive. big chest and broad shoulders, he looks like he could snap your neck with his bare hands. the moonlight is only making him more menacing – his dark hair falls in front of his eyes as he stares down at you; there's a scar on his lips and streaks of blood cover his skin, from his cheek to his jaw and down his neck.

dark clothes and a dark jacket – he looks like he belongs in the shadows. the fact that you didn't hear him until it was already too late is making your skin crawl. he probably only let you hear him. for the fun of it.

the terrified look on other's faces can be addicting. the big eyes and the wobbling lips; how they shake and beg – you're no stranger to it, you've had your moments, too.

other than the gun in his hand, there's a second one holstered around his big thigh just like you do. a serrated knife sits his belt and it keeps winking at you, the flashlight reflecting from it as you pull in big breaths of air.

"you're saying i oughta just let you go?" he scoffs, yanking you from your thoughts.

"please..." your stomach grumbles on cue, helping you look meeker than you really are.

you're sure you just saw him wince as he squats down beside you but the thought is brushed away immediately when the man cocks his head to the side and scratches his temple with the barrel of the gun. his scarred lips stretch into a big wolfish grin, showing off his sharp canines and his eyes glint from behind the black strands of hair, making him even scarier now. the big bad wolf.

he's taking you apart with his eyes, dissecting you and your thoughts with a smug expression while you're fending off the waves of fear and try to look as composed as you can. though you feel like it isn't working at all.

"d'ya find anything good from the pharmacy?"

"why were you stalking me?" your bark comes out sharper than you intended and his eyebrows raise an inch, eyes shining with something teasing.

"kind of hard to miss ya when you're making so much noise, sweetheart. and yer in my spot, anyway." he sigh with an eye-roll.

your lips part in a small gasp. "i was not making that much noise! and– and what do you mean 'your spot'? it's a fucking mall, i need things, too!"

"clearly." he motions to the duffel bag resting at your feet and you swallow your next snarky comment.

"sorry."

"what was that?"

just glaring at him, you hate how amused he seems. the fear in you dissipating fast and something akin to annoyance is starting to grow in it's stead.

"i didn't even fucking take anything!"

body leaning forward, fists balled up and eyes on fire – he's thoroughly entertained by your barking and you immediately purse your lips.

"relax, little lamb, will ya? tell me... what'd you find in there?"

you scrunch your nose at the stupid nickname. despite how non-threatening he's being right now - you're still planning on running. you'll give him whatever he wants and you're getting the fuck out of here.

"nothing much. stitching kits and painkillers."

he's hums disappointedly and you can't help but wonder why. is he looking for something in particular? is he hurt? "what do you need?"

"forget it."

"i have antibiotics, if that's what you need."

at that, his ears perk up. "is that so?"

you nod at him.

"well, c'mon then, show me what ya got."

you stare at him for a moment before peeling off one backpack strap. you pull the bag onto your lap and feel his heavy gaze on you as you dig around the thing. it doesn't take you long to find the right bottle, pulling it out and handing it to him.

the floor creaks and it has you both turning towards the sound in an instant. he has the door in his sights but nothing is there. your heart is hammering in your chest again and you can taste the bitter anxiety in the back of your throat again.

you've never seen anyone hold their gun so steady as he does. no shake, no tremble; he's not even really squeezing the thing, he's just holding it. there's no pressure, no anxiety – it's simply an extension to his body. he's comfortable with it, and he looks good with it. a bead of sweat rolls from his temple and mixes with the drying blood on his skin before disappearing under his clothes.

his breathing is normal, he's calm as he lowers the gun back down and starts observing the bottle in his other hand. your eyes are still on the door, still wary of the ghosts that lurk around.

the man squints his eyes at the miniature text on the bottle in the dark and you hold back a laugh.

"need me to read it for you, old man?"

"watch your mouth." it's playful at best, no real sternness behind it whatsoever and it makes you roll your eyes. you're about to ask what he actually needs the pills for but something in the corner of your eye draws your attention.

a pair of dull, grey eyes. staring right back at you. dark veins run all over her face and neck, her shoulders and her hands and she peeks from behind the doorframe.

one second. no more, no less. your sharp intake of air gets his attention just as the stalker lunges from the dark hallway, but she is met with a hole in her forehead before she can even take a proper step inside.

small pieces of brain splatter onto the wall behind her and she falls limp to the ground just a few feet from you. he's waiting for another one to pop up, his eyes still glued to the door and you know that this is your moment. he has the meds, so he shouldn't chase you down anyway. you have to go now.

scrambling up from your knees, you try to speed past him but immediately choke when the collar of your own sweatshirt sharply cuts into your airways. his grip on the material is strong and he pulls you right back into him, back into his arms. he's mere inches from your face but before he can do anything else – he feels a blade against his throat.

you really aren't the little lamb he thought you were.

he's comparing you to a feral cub in his head – big wild eyes, snarling and showing your teeth, trying to act tougher than you are, but when the sharp edge of your blade sinks deeper into his skin, he realizes that maybe you're not actually in over your head.

he already expected you to run, he was waiting for that but he thought it'd end up with you you crying and begging or something. he didn't see this coming – you're definitely craftier than he thought, faster too.

"now... why would you do that-"

you don't let him finish. "are you gonna hurt me?"

"you're the one with the knife at my throat. i should be asking you that." he rolls his eyes as your knife grazes the soft skin below his adam's apple and you're thinking about actually cutting him just out of annoyance.

"you have the pills, why not let me go?" you bark back.

"you're hungry, aren't ya?" he questions calmly. his gun hand is lowered, he's not pointing it at you but his other hand stays on your back, fingers still digging into your sweatshirt. it's warm, his body is warm.

"so what? you gonna feed me like some stray cat?"

"y'don't want to eat?" he deadpans.

...

you bite into the soft flesh of your inner cheek. of fucking course, you want to eat.

"y'can take two cans from the bag. i mean, y'were eyeing them anyway."

"why?"

"for being my entertainment tonight."

the blade on his throat finally draws blood and a drop of it runs down his skin, disappearing under his shirt.

"i oughta kill you for putting a gun at my head."

"yeah?" he cocks his head closer to you, the blade moving with him, making a few more droplets dribble from the tiny wound. "go for it, sweetheart."

his eyes are green. they're green like the leaves that sprout from between the cracks in the asphalt on a sunny day, green like the moss that flourishes on the trees in the forest, green like the ivy that is trying to swallow the world. you feel his heart beat a; calm and steady while yours is amped from the sudden proximity. he sounds so arrogant, like he knows you're not going to hurt him.

(you aren't.)

when you lower the knife to push at his broad chest with a scoff instead, he lets you. his hand falls from you as you take a step back, your face now illuminated by the moonlight. scars litter your skin, bumps and cuts – just like him.

"are you done?"

you hum with a pouty lip and put away your knife, eyes following his figure as he holsters his gun before picking up the fallen pill bottle. when he steps by you, he plucks your flashlight from its place on the backpack strap with way too much ease and proceeds to head over to one of the duffel bags that sits on the table behind you, carefully stepping over the broken glass on the floor.

"hey!"

he shushes you and your fists tighten beside your body. you look at the dead body that lays next to the door with a perfectly centered hole in her forehead. the blood pools around it, soaking her clothes and the ground below her.

you used to think about the infected more, used to ponder about how long they've been like that and whether the person they used to be is still... in there.

it doesn't matter.

you've come across people, who talk about not wanting to kill them – what if they really are still in there? but isn't that exactly why one should kill them? you can't even begin to think about how it'd feel to be stuck inside your own body as the infection takes over, making you into something you're not. how it'd force you to tear your loved ones apart just for the sake of it, how you'd turn into a bigger monster with every passing day, every passing second. you just hope that if you were to get infected, you'd still have the mind to end it. or have somebody do it for you.

you don't want to end up like her.

"i didn't realize there were stalkers here." you mumble to yourself as you tear your eyes from her. "other than you, of course. fucking creep."

he starts digging around in one of the bags and you take the moment to really observe him. his back is almost twice your size and you're sure his one bicep is bigger than your whole head.

the man scoffs. "thought i got them all but... oh, well. should've let ya handle it – was your fault anyway."

"how the fuck was that my fault?" your voice raises at his claim and you regret it, knowing exactly what his response will be.

"you are fucking loud, sweetheart."

"fuck you."

he just hums out a mhmmm. he pulls a piece of paper out of his bag and uses your flashlight to examine the text on it. his eyes. he waves at you over his shoulder. "you know where the cans are."

simply scoffing as a reply, you kneel back down to the bag but his voice cuts in again.

"and don't you dare take that chocolate." he doesn't even turn around, completely focused on comparing the information on the paper to the info on the bottle of pills. you roll your eyes again and curse him under your breath. "i wasn't gonna take your stupid fucking chocolate..."

when you've bagged your goodies, you push yourself up again. the trees dancing in the wind outside catch your eye, they look so carefree. just living from the sun and the moon and the rain, they have nothing to fear. nobody will harm them, no infected, no people. you can't wait for nature to take back everything it deserves. the cities and the buildings; it'll swallow the corpses and the living alike and you're happy for her.

he rustles with the paper, twisting it around a few times and you're about to ask what he's looking for but he cuts you off.

"why not make a run for it earlier?"

you stare at his back with a confused look. "what do you mean?"

"you gave me the pills and then tried to run. antibiotics are hard to find, y'know." he sounds curious. or patronizing.

"i know that... i had to wait for the right moment." you admit, fiddling with your fingers. "i was going to give them to you anyway, old man."

"not a lot going on in that little head of yours, huh?"

...

you let his audacity waft over you before biting back. "oh, i'm sorry... for... being a... good person?"

he turns around and leans his ass against the table, folding his arms over his big chest as he mocks you with his annoying smug grin. "i pointed a gun at you and you still wanna share your little precious belongs with me? that's cute, i guess."

"yeah. you just look like you fucking need them, alright...."

"so, you agree that you're a fucking idiot?"

your lips part in shock. "hey! look– do you want anything else or can i go now?"

"can i have my flashlight back?"

"no."

"wha— " you take a step toward the man and he raises his brows. "but it's mine! how do you expect me to go outside without it?"

"no manners whatsoever."

huh?

your jaw drops again. "excuse me? wha– what's that supposed to mean?"

"first, i catch you stealing— "

"i already apologized for that— "

"—then you try to kill poor old little me, and now you're asking for things without the magic word... tsk-tsk-tsk." he closes his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment.

"i'm not gonna fucking beg for my own flashlight back, bitch."

...

he barks out a laugh.

a loud one, from deep within his stomach. his head falls back and a pout forms on your lips, heat crawls up your neck involuntarily and you avert your gaze. "you're terrible, just terrible, sweetheart."

he takes your prized light and tosses it to you before pulling out his own from behind his back. you flip him off. "funny though, i'll give ya that..."

you grumble a yeah, thanks under your breath as he blinks the light at you twice. "may i go now?"

he stares at you before answering. "yes, you're dismissed."

at that, you knock your heels together and sharply bring your right hand to your temple – imitating a military salutation. "yes, sir!"

something sweet.

he tastes something sweet on his tongue. he wipes the drying blood from his neck and his cheeks hurt.

you're some random feral cub and yet, you've peaked his interest like nothing else. no cries and no wails, no begging and no tears – scared but alive. ready to part with valuable meds just because he apparently looks like he needs them. tch! growling at him even though he's caught you red handed, cutting him even though you weren't in danger anymore.

he hasn't felt this alive in a long time, either.

"don't let me see you again, old man."

playful, at best. you're matching his tone and the corners of his lips are reaching back behind his ears. you bite your inner cheek; despite everything – he's the most normal person you've met since the end of the world. he's not mean nor is he aggressive; everybody points a gun at a stranger these days. he made jokes and he gave you supplies – it's more than anyone has done for you in a while.

you look at the wolf in the shadow and he looks at the lamb in the moonlight. the wolf that offers food and protection and the lamb that cuts and steals.

the wolf that bleeds and the lamb that holds the blade.

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #ENJOY!! #also feedback is very appreciated i need to know whether i made everything understandable!!!!!!!!!!!!! #MWAH #toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro fanfic #toji fushiguro drabble #jjk toji #jjk x reader #jjk au #toji au #jjk x you #toji fushiguro au #toji zenin #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #zenin toji #zenin toji x reader #zenin toji x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #wtf mickey can write

[nereidprinc3ss]

hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 

“Please, stop apologizing.” 

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 

Says Spencer Reid? 

“...sorry?” 

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 

He swallows and nods. 

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 

But you're not crying because he was nice.  

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 

“I meant every word.” 

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 

“Had?” 

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 

“Yeah. You know what changed?” 

“What’s that?” 

Absolutely nothing. 

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 

You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 

More silence. 

“But you don’t believe it.” 

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 

“What?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 

“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 

Your heart drops as you study his face.  

No. 

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 

“What are you doing? Don’t--” 

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 

With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“You... you like me?” 

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 

“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 

“No, but—” 

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 

“Of course I have.” 

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 

“I do.” 

“Will you kiss me?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 

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

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 

“Spencer?” 

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 

“What does pulchritude mean?” 

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And so you let it float away. 

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Boldness

Paring: Akaza, Kokushibo, Aizetsu, Sekido, Karaku x fem!reader

Synopsis: Y/n grabs their ass/spank their ass in missionary and their reaction to it.

Content warning: Smut, missionary, orgasm denial, humor, pegging mentioned on Karaku's part

A/n: what if I did embarrassing sex moments with them... kekeke...

Akaza

"Y/n.." Akaza moans your name as he parts your thighs open to reach deeper inside. You moaned loudly as your nails dig into his back and leave stratch marks for a moment until his skin healed again.

"It feels so good~" you moaned and looked over to see how his hips thrusts up and down as he fucks you. You were such in a haze that you began to act on your thoughts, and your hands slid down from his back onto his hips. "y/n..?" Akaza let out a questionable moan as he continued to thrust his hips.

Your hands went down from his hips and straight to his ass grabbing it tightly. "Y/n!? What are you doing!" Akaza sits sits up quickly in shock, looking down at you. "I'm sorry! Your butt just looked good.... why did you flex your ass?" You asked, and Akazas eyes widen. "I'm thrusting my hips... of course, my ass is going to flex, " he said, somewhat embarrassed."So... You're basically twerking," you said, trying to hold back a laugh.

Akaza was still hard and didn't have the time to argue back. His cheeks only turned red at the thought of how he probably dose look like he's twerking when he fucks you in missionary but he didn't want to think anymore about it. He just flips you over and starts to take you from behind, grabbing your ass.

Kokushibo

"Dose it feel good?" Kokushibo grunts and gives you a peck on the lips as he pounds you into the mattress. "S'fucking- g-good!" You moan and wrapped your arms around Kokushibo's neck, pulling him into a deep kiss as his cock hits the deepest part inside your pussy.

Kokushibo lifts up your leg and starts fucking your faster. "Close... so close." he moans as his thrusts became faster and your body jerks forward from his powerful thrusts. Your hand played around in Kokushibo's long hair as you take his cock and the other holds onto his back. His cock felt so good you didn't say it.

Instead your hand rasies and slaps his ass, grabbing it hard as he fucks you rough. You didn't think kokushibo would mind it, but your spank to his ass snapped him out of the moment. He stopped moving and then sat up slowly. "kokushibo I.." You tried to apologize, but a laugh was building up in your throat as you watched all of his 6 eyes widen in shock and look down at you.

"I... I don't think I find that pleasurable. I'm not into anal I believe," kokushibo said genuinely, thinking into it "okay kokushibo" you said with a giggle

Aizetsu

As much as Aizetsu loves making you feel good, he's wasn't expecting you to grab his ass during sex. He was so lost in pleasure, fucking you hard in missionary until your tits were bounding for him he didn't realize both your hands were grabbing his ass cheeks.

"Dose it feel good y/n... I grab your ass when you ride my cock so I assume your feeling good right?" Aizetsu moaned and thrusts again "tell me it feels good~" he begs and continues to fuck you balls deep. You did it as a joke to see how he'd react, but you didn't expect such a calm reaction. It's almost as if he didn't care.

You giggled at his cuteness and continued to grab his ass "it feels so good~ Don't stop," you said and gave his ass a spank. Aizetsu's eyebrows rasied in worry, and his back arched from the spank. "...not too much now." He said

Sekido

"Fuck... sucking me in like I didn't fuck you a few days ago. You're such a cock hungry slut" Sekido grunts and fucks you roughly, making the bed frame hit the wall with each thrust.

"I love it Sekido~ your cock feels so good.. oh my god" you moan as your head falls back onto the pillow "damn right. You're going to take it like a good whore" he said and spanks your thigh, digging his nails into your tights as he spreads your legs apart further.

Your head falls to the side and notices the mirror behind Sekido. You watch as he thrusts his hips into you and giggles softly at how he looks when he's pleasuring you. "What are you looking at. Eyes here, " Sekido said, and before he could turn your face towards him, your hands go down, grabbing his ass and even lifting his cheeks up.

Sekido's raged expression turned extremely calm, almost as if he had no emotion and stopped all movements. "....I'm sorry" you giggle, followed by a moan as Sekido pulled out "we will try this again tomorrow" he said with his cock completely soft and turned off from having his ass grabbed.

"......" You sat up and tapped his ass again. "Your ass is kinda fat," you commented. "I don't think I like being a demon anymore" Sekido said.

"Karaku.. Karaku!" Your thighs flex around his hips as he fucks his cock deep inside your pussy. "That's it. Moan my name pretty." Karaku smirks as his hands grab your tits and then begin to lick your nipples.

"That feels so good.." you said. Your pussu clenches down on his cock, it felt so good you couldn't stop your hands from gripping onto his broad back and then traveling down to his ass. Karaku didn't say anything until you gave his ass a hard squeeze, making him moan out loud. You knit your brows together in surprise at his reaction and Karaku slowed down his moments.

"What... surprised I like my ass grabbed?" Karaku shamelessly admits. You couldn't hold back your laugh. "I honestly thought you'd be mad. So does this mean you're into pegging?" You asked and watched Karaku get flustered. "We'll talk about that later. For now, let me make you cum~"

#demon slayer smut #kny smut #aizetsu x reader #sekido x reader #karaku x reader #kokushibo x reader #akaza x reader #kokushibo smut #akaza smut

[blushweddinggowns]

Idea expanded, adult siblings Eddie and Robin who are close (Both raised by Wayne, sorry Robin's parents I'm killing you off), even when Robin goes to another state for college. Eddie stays back, has his slut era, that unfortunately ends in him being a single dad. Or fortunately depending on how you look at it because he adores his kid. But it's still hard to manage everything. He's trying to go back to school part time, all while still working at his uncle's garage, and things are just hard.

But lucky enough for him, Robin moves back home at the perfect time. She gets an apartment with her mystery best friend from college who oddly enough she refuses to let Eddie meet. But oh well, he's just happy to have his sister back. Especially since she's always up for watching her favorite niece.

Though a day comes when she gets stuck at work, and Eddie has a final he can't miss with an asshole professor who definitely wouldn't let his three year old come with him, and he's desperate. Desperate enough for Robin to begrudgingly admit her mystery roommate is actually a daycare worker/nanny who is out of work. And she'll only ask for his help if Eddie promises to keep their relationship strictly professional. Which is weird and dumb but Eddie agrees nonetheless.

But then he meets the guy. And it only takes one shy smile and a simple, Hi, I'm Steve, and in an instant Eddie finally understands why Robin had been so adamant about them never meeting. Because holy shit he's gorgeous. Exactly his type. And it doesn't help when his daughter freaking adores him instantly. And like the brat she is (like father, like daughter) she only wants Steve to babysit for her from now on, all from spending less than four hours with the man.

But Eddie goes with it, mostly because he wants to get to know the guy more and because he is insanely cheap for someone so good at his job. And he learns that Steve is funny, and likes to cook, and has infected his daughter's mind with a brand new love for sports and the outdoors. But that's okay, because that means that Steve goes with them to all of the random WNBA games she wants to see. And shepherds them on ill-advised hikes that always leave Eddie's clumsy ass covered in dirt and bug bites. But it's all fun. Really fun. And Eddie gets to know Steve more and more, and likes him more and more, and starts to disrespect Robin's original rule more and more until it becomes undeniable that he's falling for the guy.

And Robin is not happy about it. She loves Eddie, but she also loves Steve. To an insane degree. Insane enough to not want to risk their relationship over the chance of him getting heart-broken over her notoriously bad at relationships brother. And Steve feels what Eddie's feeling, but he loves Robin more and agrees with her. And it doesn't help that he's heard a few unfortunately true stories about Eddie's past.

So cue to Eddie having to do an unscheduled emotional character arc just so he can get the privilege of dating Steve, with Robin acting as basically an overprotective sibling to the wrong guy, with his adorable daughter along for the ride.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic idea #bisexual eddie munson #steve harrington #but they are fun to think about okay #robin buckley #silly things #of my fic expanded ideas this grabs me the least #i will probably never do #but if i did #spoiler it works out #happily ever after is my motto #i don't read/write fics for reality yall what else would i do

[adascore]

DISTRACTION | L. OBERDORF

pairing: lena oberdorf x girlfriend!reader

warnings: uni work lol. kissing.

author's note: inspired by lena’s tiktok with lea :) the cutest duo, cant wait to see them play together at bayern.

masterlist

''Obi, I just need to finish this. Give me a few more minutes.''

''No, I've been waiting for too long.''

This was how it had been for the past hour, Lena trying to coax her girlfriend into giving up her university work to watch a movie with her, but the midfielder hadn't had much success so far.

Y/N sighed loudly. ''I am almost done, I promise.''

''You have been saying that for an hour now, babe, I am bored.'' She retorted, her frustration evident as she tried to sneakily grab her girlfriend's laptop, only to have her hands swatted away.

''Off, Oberdorf! I swear…''

''I just want to watch a movie with my girlfriend, that can't be much to ask.'' Lena continued whining, clinging onto her partner like a koala.

Y/N would have normally chuckled at her antics, if it wasn't interrupting her task to review an important chapter that would be covered in her class the next day. ''And I just want to review this stupid chapter, that can't be much to ask.'' She mocked the German, imitating Lena's facial expression.

The Wolfsburg player begrudgingly removed herself from her girlfriend's body, settling on the other side of the couch with a loud huff. Though she hoped her dramatic display would garner sympathy from Y/N, she soon realized that her partner was too engrossed in her studies to pay her much attention.

As the student continued to read through the assigned academic text, she heard some faint audio coming from her girlfriend's phone. However, she decided to simply ignore it and get through the grueling reading she had to do.

But as Lena turned up the volume of her device, the sound became increasingly louder, disrupting Y/N's concentration. She would have been more tolerant if it weren't for the fact that the same part of the song was being repeated over and over again.

She cast a glance towards the footballer, not looking particularly happy as she had to pause her activity again. ''Obi, what are you doing?''

''Making a TikTok.'' She answered, mumbling as she was focused on her phone.

''Can you do that in another room, please?'' Y/N asked, trying to not let her frustration be too audible in her voice.

Lena shook her head. ''No, I really need to do it in here.''

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at the response, sending a pointed look in Lena's direction. Despite her irritation, she remained rooted to the couch, unwilling to give in to her disruption by relocating to another room.

About a minute later, she saw in her peripheral vision how Lena held up the phone in the air, seemingly filming the pair on the couch.

''Obi…'' She warned her partner, but Lena continued lip syncing to the audio, though she moved the camera back so she was only filming herself.

Y/N let out a breath of relief when the music stopped, her annoyance slowly withering away.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally closed her laptop, her reading session complete. With a stretch and a satisfied sigh, she pushed herself up from her spot on the couch and made her way over to Lena's side.

''I'm done, what movie do you wanna watch?'' She asked the midfielder, laying her head on Lena's shoulder.

Lena gave her a grumpy look, acting as if she didn't want anything to do with her at that moment. Y/N could see the cracks of a smile beginning to form at the corners of her lips, though her girlfriend was trying really hard to suppress it. ''Don't know…'' She muttered in an innocent tone, pretending she hadn't been whining for the past hour.

Y/N placed a gentle kiss on her neck, a smirk on her face. ''Too bad, maybe my other girlfriend would love to watch a film with me.'' She teased, continuing to peck her neck and collarbones.

Lena swallowed, her facade slowly falling apart. ''Hmm, maybe. Or do you keep her waiting as well?''

Her partner chuckled, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on Lena's arm. ''She doesn't mind being patient, it's what I love about her so mu-''

''Okay, that's enough! Let's watch that new romantic comedy I told you about.'' Lena interrupted, playfully pushing Y/N away from her, before wrapping her arms around her and attacking her face with kisses.

Y/N grinned, amused by Lena's subtle jealousy over a nonexistent person. ''Nice.''

Lena's hand found its way onto her girlfriend's thigh, while Y/N nestled into her side, resting her head on the German's shoulder once again. ''Comfy?'' Lena asked, glancing down with a soft smile.

Y/N nodded. ''Always.'' She responded, briefly lifting Lena's hand up from her thigh and pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles.

While Lena searched for the film on their tv, Y/N remembered the video she had been filming while she still had been busy with reading. ''What were you filming earlier, by the way?''

''Oh,'' Lena laughed, recalling the TikTok she had made. She retrieved her phone out of her pocket, opening said social media app. ''This.''

The footballer put the screen in front of her, the text on the video reading: Me when my girlfriend has to do uni work instead of watching a movie with me.

''Obi, that's such an unflattering angle!'' Y/N exclaimed, watching herself in the short video.

''What are you talking about, you look cute!'' Lena protested, zooming in on her form, clearly not seeing anything wrong with it.

Her girlfriend rolled her eyes, but let it go. ''You're gonna post that?'' She curiously inquired.

Lena shrugged her shoulders. ''Only if you're fine with it. People always ask me to make more TikToks with you.'' She answered.

''It's okay- you gotta give the people what they want.'' Y/N winked, leaning forward to place a kiss on Lena's cheek.

''True,'' the midfielder blushed, ''and I want to watch a movie with you now.'' She diverted from the topic, putting the phone back where it came from.

''What Obi wants, Obi gets.'' Y/N teasingly added.

Lena gave her a side glance. ''After an hour…''

''Oh, don't ruin the vibes!''

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #lena oberdorf x reader #woso fic #woso fics

[yandere-kokeshi]

What is a general hc for yandere Soap?

Warnings: Yandere behavior, military + talks about trauma and PTSD, kidnapping, and dubcon (not in detail)

A/N: Sure!! Sorry this took extremely long. I've been struggling with my health. Hope this was okay <3.

Gif and icons are NOT mine; the gif belongs to @/bunnygifs. As for the icons, I'm not sure. If you do find the artist/or are the artist, please contact me so I can credit you!

Soap is a very complicated person. Underneath his nice Jester Act, he’s an extremely manipulative, obsessive, and possessive man in every aspect possible. He owns you; you own him, vice versa.

He’s two faced with you, only if you’re capable of staying one way. Much like Jekyll and Hyde.

Johnny wasn’t sure what was so addicting about you, but he knew you were the one for him. The very first time he saw you, he was immediately smitten and approaching you with a wide smile. Flirting and wooing his ways with you as his cheeks flushed with pink, legs like jello and hands sweating as his mind was overloaded with question after question. While Soap’s not easy to fall for someone, he couldn’t help but see that you were incredibly attractive; as well as interesting and a genuine person.

It definitely makes more sense if you were on the team. Price bringing you in as a new recruit; a needed medic or another soldier that finds him just as perky, or annoying.

Or, in any other story, you could be a civilian who he had met while living next door. The apartment complex getting lonely, and somehow, the cheeky bastard showed up with a welcoming smile and a few of his buddies helping him move in. Wouldn’t it be nice to know him, no?

Despite these two — Soap would quickly realize he needed you. The calls weren’t enough. The hourly talks weren’t enough. Nothing was never enough because you weren’t his. And you certainly made him lose his mind.

Either way, you’ve caught the eye of a man who’s incredibly hard to get rid of. His name speaks loudly in certain situations when he’s with you.

That being said, Johnny is always around you — in and out of the battlefield. He’s always trying to engage with whatever you’re doing.

Gonna head out and get a drink from a bar a couple of minutes down the road? Why not let him come along? Catch up on some things, plus the two of you could play truth-to-drink.

Need to go grocery shopping? Let him drive with you! He would feel safer going with you, plus, he needs to restock his fridge. Wherever you are, he’s there; even with and without your knowledge.

Soap is a huge softie with you. Even Ghost and Price see it. It’s clear that he likes you, which leaves him doing it the ‘original’ way. He will go all out and woo your heart; going as far as to buy your favorite flowers or go get that movie you haven’t seen in ages. He pays attention closely to the conversations you two have, so expect gifts to come.

This also means that he dislikes people around you, his blue eyes turning into daggered icicles that talk to you. And those who don’t get his signals, he gets aggressive, which isn’t a pretty sight.

He makes it clear that you’re off limits and stares at anyone who looks at you too long or simply the wrong way. While he acts incredibly sweet and kind in front of you, the minute you turn around, his smile is gone and staring into the person’s poor soul until they run away with their tail between their legs.

Johnny is the type to overcompensate things, which can be annoying. He’s overbearing — almost suffocating to the point you may or may not snap at him to knock it off or leave you alone. He will act like an overprotective boyfriend, even if the two of you are not dating.

Because of this, you’ll likely lose a bunch, if mostly of your friends or close family members. At the end of the day, he’s sitting right beside you as he comforts you from the losses. I mean, he’s better than them, right?

Soap is more on the jealous side. While he knows he’s attractive and strong - likely your type - he just can’t help but pop his knuckles in pure annoyance whenever he sees you talking to someone he feels is a threat. Soap will try his best to be always around you, keeping an arm or hand on you at all times, showing people he has an interest in you or that you’re dating.

And because of his severe jealousy, he’s a master at manipulation. He’s very persuasive with his words, especially with his sweet and dirty talk.

He’s always guiding, keeping you away from people he deems bad, and whenever you question it, Johnny always smiles before telling you not to worry about it. By the end of the day, you’re in his house with him locking the door.

With how insane he is, and just how devoted he’s with you, you’re gonna be kidnapped. Even if you’re already in love, he can not stand people talking or keeping you away from him. He wants you by himself.

Your safety is his top priority. The minute it’s threatened, even by a friend invading your space or seeing you uncomfortable in public, all his nice and flirtatious mask is thrown out the window and goes berserk. He’s not afraid to swing, kick, or even draw high amounts of blood if it means that you’re safe.

Now, the minute he can call you "his" is the second he really shows his colors; being a cheeky bastard and a manipulative prick. Of course, he’s a natural flirt and will tease or woo you every damn chance he gets.

Soap is very open with affection. In all types of shapes, but he mainly shows it through gifts and physical affection. He’ll randomly give you rocks with specific names and expects you to remember.

Or cuddling you closer to his body, hand instinctively curling around your hips and lips sucking in deep bruises. His favorite part with you is rolling in bed with you, tracing your body marks as he rubs his face into your belly.

Soap is incredibly clingy. It gets worse when he gets home after being out for a long time of not seeing you.

Once he’s home, whether that’s from a mission or simply spending the day shopping for necessary items, he will not leave you alone. His arms are always on you, grasping and pulling you in for cuddles and his Scottish slangs whispering in your tinted ears for more attention.

Punishments come in waves– and if you’ve broken them, even ignoring his final warnings with tsks, it isn’t pretty.

Usually, he figures a good fuck with sorta ye out, no? With the amount of orgasms and pretty begs you let out, he’s certain you won’t break them again, correct?

But, if that doesn’t work, he’ll put a chain around your ankle, keeping you in bed and treating you the same as if you didn’t do anything. Slowly but surely, driving you insane until you say sorry.

Soap is excellent at spying and has no shame if he’s caught, even by you. You won’t be allowed to shut any doors, even if you are using the bathroom or showering. But, you wouldn’t mind him coming in, would you?

—

My masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

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[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.64)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: “Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.” “Shut up Jimin you are not going to die.”

Tags: Angst, Blood, graphic depictions of violence, dead bodies, Gore, Maiming, violent acts described perpetrated by loved ones, near death experiences, near death experiences, No one dies, Jimin does not die, Hurt with just a little comfort, implied sexual content,

W/c: 8.6k

A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter is a little shorter than usual after such a long wait. i've been going through a rough patch™ which is why recently the updates have been 3 weeks apart instead of just 2 like usual. When i tell you the end of this chapter has a fucking twist to it that i love, you're not prepared!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

“I shot Minnie.”

It takes you a breath for the words to sink in. Standing in the bathroom in the half-grey darkness golden hallway light streaming in through the open door. It’s strange how inside of your body you feel at that moment.

That frantic fever urgency of your pulse, your breath, your everything when traumatic things are about to happen and when they’re happening.

For a moment you’re keenly aware of every molecule of your body. The tacky-sweet feeling of slick drying between your thighs, the cold smoothness of the slate tile beneath your feet, the too-long press of your fingernails as you grip the bathroom countertop to keep from falling to the tile floor. Everything in feverish detail.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the light from Yoongi’s phone screen illuminates your face in blue. You look at the mirror, then down at your hands.

Minnie, a gun.

A bullet, Jin.

Your brain is whirling. Putting two and two together is like putting together a recipe. Only now you have the result and have to backtrack. How did you get here? Jin keeps talking, word vomiting down the line, and you miss a few sentences while you’re trying to put it together.

Butter, cream, sugar.

You, Jin, Jimin.

Jimin.

You think you might vomit tiramisu all over the bathroom floor.

You close your eyes, thinking hard while Jin talks. His words run over themselves with worry. “I discharged my weapon if we go to the hospital- they’ll- they’ll know and I don’t know if I can cover this up with just lies-”

“Is he dead?” Your voice is lethal in its quiet, so quiet that you think it might not go through the phone. Jin doesn’t hear it- too preoccupied with his own terror.

You close your eyes, quietly begging anything or anyone who might be listening. If god is going to take so much from him- the least she can do is give jimin this. One simple measly miracle is all you're asking for.

“Jin- tell me right the fuck now- Is Jimin dead?”

“Pup.” Jin sounds like he’s just been strangled. Like all the wind has just been knocked out of him. “Put Yoongi on the line.”

“No.” You're shaking, your heartbeat in your ears louder than your lofty hopes. Hand digging into the counter so hard that you feel it in your bones. “No, not until you tell me right now- is Minnie-”

“Hey pup.” Jimin’s voice is a quiet croak. You sag against the countertop and slide to the floor. It’s barely a weak whisper on the other side of the line. You’re glad it’s not a video call. You’re not sure you could handle seeing him if he sounds so raw. “Minnie- Minnie are you? does Jin?”

Does Jin know?

Jin must have taken back the phone because- “I need you to go get Yoongi. Now. We can’t be here any longer than necessary.” there's the muffled sound of shuffling, of hair grating against the speaker. "We're vulnerable here, I don't know if more people will come."

You move, leaving the bathroom and thundering up the steep stairs to the bedroom. There's the distant sound of Hoseok in the kitchen probably putting away the tiramisu. You head for the nest, rushing, falling to your knees in front of it, phone pinned between your shoulder and your ear.

“Yoongi isn’t here. He’s with Jungkook and Tae and Namjoon.”

“Hang up then and I’ll call Namjoon.” You peel back the nest skirt to get under it, where Jimin keeps his gun cases. They're there in the shadows, three of them black and plastic. A photocopy of his concealed carry license is taped to each on top. No one had been particularly happy about him storing them there (Namjoon especially) But now you’re glad to have them close on hand.

“No, not until you tell me where you are.”

“Pup this isn’t- you can’t-”

“Jin, please.”

You try the same code that Jimin has for his cellphone. You know it because you have a habit of going through his after your dates for some of the photos that he takes of you and Tae.

8-7-5-8.

The box clicks open and you roll your eyes. Alphas.

“Pup” you wait for him to say that he needs more help than you can offer, that carrying Minnie and keeping him alive is more than you can help with. You wait for him to say that you’re neither strong enough mentally nor physically to handle this.

But it doesn’t come. Jin’s tiny fraught sigh is there, but then-

“Alright.”

There are spots for five different handguns inside. Two missing vacant cuts into the foam. You take the smallest one, checking stock to make sure it's got bullets in it. You fumble with it, unsure and unused to this. You make sure the safety is on before you tuck it into your waistband.

“Send me your address. And if you need to- get rid of Jimin's gun- god only knows whats on that.” To Jin’s credit, he hardly splutters, hardly takes in another shaky breath.

“How do you know-” You descend the stairs slower. Screwing your eyes shut tight to keep from crying, leashing your voice into something gentle.

“Jin, Minnie is bleeding. You have more important things to worry about right now. We need to figure out how to keep Jimin alive and undiscovered.”

“You know-”

“Yes, I fucking know about Jimin, okay? We’re wasting time. Bye.”

You hang up on him. Your hands are still shaking and you spend a breath looking at them. You want to call Yoongi. Your body aching for your mate's touch, for how steady he makes you feel just by being there. the way he tucks your hair behind your ears, the way his hand is always hovering near the small of your back to guide you- to options that won't hurt and secrets that won't damage things.

You need your mate for this, already your pulse is hammering. The haze of a panic attack on the edge of your vision. One second foggy fear, the next heartbreaking clarity.

Maybe you know how this ends, you know why this is happening even if you try and ignore it. Maybe you realize just then what's going to happen. Not today but eventually, it turns you cold from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

You might not lie to the pack (lying by omission doesn't carry the same weight) but you lie to yourself often.

You will call Yoongi, you decide. You pick the phone back up and navigate towards Tae’s contact. Your thumb hovers between her name and Jungkook’s. You don’t know if you’ll be able to keep your voice steady calling her but Jungkook will almost certainly be able to tell something's wrong just from your tone alone. He's perceptive like that.

Before you can make the call something moves in your peripheries.

There is a dark figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the light coming from the front door and the bay window. It makes you startle but at second glance it’s just Hobi. You look down at him 3 steps up the stairs. Yoongi's phone in your hand and a gun at the small of your back, covered by the fluff of his sweatshirt.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask who you were talking on the phone with. He just tilts his in question, eyes teaming with that warm sort of playfulness.

You have a decision to make; let his opinion of the pack remain what it is or change it for good. In an irrevocable way that you won't be able to take back. It feels like too much change too quickly. Barely an hour ago he was telling you he loves you and now-

The thing about secrets is that they’re terribly hard to keep.

Hobi notices, because Hobi always notices when there’s some sort of change in you or a shift in your mood- call it a survival instinct if you won't call it love.

The set of your jaw is less pouty neediness and more leashed discomfort. Your expression is the same one you had when tae came out and you sat with them at the table and told them for you. You'd think that telling other people's secrets would be easier but it isn't.

Hobi knows your tells. What it looks like when you're about to play your hand. Ace's and all.

You descend the last few steps, each one thudding, making sure you're on the same level before you slowly wrap your arms around his waist. You do it slow even though you feel every second like a gunshot wound. Like every second could be Jimin’s last heartbeat.

(thump thump thump)

Pulling yourself in tight. His hands smooth up and down your back. You could call Yoongi but-

Hobi looks down at you, pecking your forehead. He smiles softly, his lips twisting into something like a grimace because you smell a little bit sour. Doesn't mean he's not going to kiss you but-

You wonder how many times he’s kissed you already, it's only been a day but you’re already losing track of how many, maybe 2 dozen now. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes then back again.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Or are you just going to pout at me until I go get Yoongi?”

You shake your head and close your eyes hard. "Don't get Yoongi."

Stealing yourself just a little and hold Hobi a little closer, a little harder. But there’s nothing you can say, no lie that you can tell that will make this better. No secret that you could confess either.

“Jin called and something bad has happened.”

You feel more than see the goosebumps on Hobi’s arms as you pull away, the visceral hard swallow as he looks at your face again, waits, expecting you to pull back say-“It’s a joke it’s nothing-“ But it doesn't come.

“You have two choices Hobi, you can go to the pizza shop, and hang out with Tae and Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi or-” Hobi searches your face for something he knows; the darkness in your eyes, the vague tremble in your arms around his waist. “Or you can help me and be scared. I kind of-”

I kind of need you

But Hobi should have agency in this and shouldn't just take this path because of you. After Yoongi, you've learned when and where to give people the choice to be dragged into things they'd be better off sidestepping. You don't say it but Hobi hears it all the same.

Hobi looks so earnest but asking this of him is no easy thing. It would be easier if you weren’t so keenly aware that you’re taking away something from him. You’re giving Hobi the choice you never got that Yoongi never got, and he'll choose the same path anyway.

He cups your face, skimming his thumb up and down your cheek.“I’m okay with being scared.” I'm okay with being scared so long as it's for you.

“This is serious, this is- you can’t ask questions until I have time to answer them, you just have to listen, understand?”

“Okay.” He nods, tousled hair fluffing, looking so innocent and eager to please that you almost tell him to just stay home.

But as much as you hate to admit it. If Jimin is injured, there’s a chance you and Jin might need a second pair of hands.

It’s a blur. Tugging on your shoes- the same ones Yoongi got you ages ago for your first date with Jimin and Tae. And when you stand, he’s holding out your jacket for you to step into. When you nuzzle into the collar there's the scent of vanilla there from where Jimin rubbed his nose to your throat when you were at the hospital. It doesn't seem possible that it was only yesterday. Everything is Jimin Jimin Jimin.

“Thank you,” you say, sounding vaguely hollow. He kisses the nape of your neck and you put your hand over it.

You point your feet in the direction of Hobi’s car and get in the driver's seat. Taking his keys from him because you need them, need to be the one who drives right now. Holding the steering wheel and controlling the acceleration. Pressing down as fast as a heartbeat.

Thumpthumpthump.

You pull away from the house with a screech hitting the curb with a bit of flying sparks. you don't even wait for it to warm up. Hobi’s hands are on the plastic console of the driver’s side, holding it to keep himself from bobbing before he's belted in. He looks over at you startled. But he doesn't ask you to slow down.

You keep your eyes on the road, blinking back tears. Controlling your emotions because you can’t drive through blurry eyes. Every inch, every tick of the needle, every second of pavement screeching tire means you're a second closer to jimin.

"Jin’s going to send you an address in a few seconds, and I need you to tell me which way to turn.”

Hobi looks at you and then looks at the phone. He doesn’t try to put on a playlist, he doesn’t try to do anything just stares at you and bobbs in his seat when you take a corner too fast.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Nothing; you’re just driving like if we don’t get there in time, someone is going to die.”

~-~

Hoseok remains remarkably calm for the drive, barely saying anything except for the winces he lets out every time you do something risky with the car like take turns at 30 miles an hour or evade a break check by driving along the shoulder.

You start to pass by empty factory buildings. The wheels of his car thudding over cracks and dips in the road until it becomes dust and gravel and the smell of gasoline permeates the interior of the car. Questions building like the heat pumping from the vents.

But he did promise not to ask until later.

The fog covers everything like a balmy damp shadow, the snow going straight to sublimation. Pockets of old street lamp lights punctuate the darkness. Husks of metal rise like soldiers from the shadows. The sky burning rust orange from the distant lights of the city. Not a single star in sight.

Jin’s car is there; Hobi spots it. Its blue paint stands out through the overlap of grey brush as the car's lights roll over it. Jimin's car is another 50 feet away and buried in the darkness. Shiny and black like the husk of an insect.

You're about a mile away from where they must be doing demolition. A singular crane and floodlights shine across a narrow tributary casting everything; the river and the buildings, into a grey-slanted light.

You pull around in the yard in front of the largest and most intact building. You leave the keys in car tumbling out the second it glides to a stop.

“Stay here.” You say, but Hobi gets out anyway. He hasn’t noticed the gun tucked into your waistband until now. It makes his pulse tick higher when you take it out.

"Hobi, sink or swim?"

He looks down at the gun in your hand, "Swim." You shake your head like you're angry with yourself, not him but you don’t waste another second arguing. You head off following the disturbed dust and Hobi trails behind. Ducking from pocket of light to pocket of light.

He always wondered what happened to the gun you’d pointed at him that night you’d run away. That train ticket that still burns a hole in his pocket, a distraction maybe from larger questions he should have been asking.

The way you hold the gun is not practiced; and why should it be? The only one who knows how to handle guns in the pack is Jimin. But the way you walk; completely silent is heartbreakingly familiar. Hobi knows how and why you've learned to move quietly. It's almost a dance; the way you glide across the floor. The gun is an extension of your arms. Spreading and flaying like a wing. Pinky to trigger, your index finger balanced along the barrel.

Hobi had always assumed that it belonged to Yoongi. It was almost 6 months ago now, wasn’t it? Hobi had almost forgotten about it.

There are some things that you never forget. Trauma makes his bones quiet. He's not as good at walking silently as you are but if the crunch of his red Converse against the gravel bothers you; you say nothing.

Hobi feels like he should have asked more questions about it at the time, but now he just bites his lip and stays quiet. You'd promised. You'll tell him in time. Hobi trusts you.

That's the worst thing, isn't it? That Hobi trusts you.

Jimin is sitting in one of the puddles of light, leaning up against one of the containers on the ground floor. Alone. You let out a quiet bereft when you see him. You and Hobi pause in the doorway. Your hand on the gun goes slack

“Minnie!”

you run to him, tucking the gun back into your waistband and falling to your knees at his side. Fingers finding wet-dark fabric. Not water but blood.

Hobi stays there in the doorway, his pulse thudding through his ears, an odd sort of peace to him as he takes in the details. The blood that pools dark on the dusty floor.

Jimin’s half covered with dust himself. Something wooden and red in his lap. The blood that’s dripped down his shoulder gathering there. There is a dragged-through patch of dirt a few feet away, more blood, and Jin is nowhere to be found.

Minnie’s eyelashes flutter. “Alpha-” you say. Almost sobbing in relief that he's alive. Alive you can handle. Alive you can work with. You bend down, getting your hand on his cheek. "Hey- wake up for me a sec okay? We're gonna get you out of here-"

“Hey pup” he laughs half delirious with pain, wincing like making the sound hurts him. “You came to the party" he coughs. "Did you bring Tae?”

You pull back to look at him. “Tae?”

Jimin grins, eyes fluttering closed and his pretty face tipped up against the light. His lips have blood on him- and it looks like a disturbing imitation of Tae’s lipstick. The shadows she leaves on your mouth, on his.

“Yeah- wanna tell her I love her. Wanna tell her I’m sorry. Could you tell her for me?”

This is something Tied tourniquet tight around Jimin’s shoulder to keep him from bleeding out. something you didn't immediately notice. You stare down at the vest now- at the yellow patch letters slowly darkening with blood.

FBI, and then in smaller letters; Organized crime division, Dir. Kim.

Jin appears from around the corner, covered in dust and blood across his thighs, and his throat. So quick you barely have time to raise the gun and then put it down when you see it's not some stranger- someone sent from Yoongi's family to tie up loose ends.

Your hand tightens on the gun as you stare at Jin.

The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his forearms and black nitrile gloves cover his hands; same as Jimin's- although one is ripped. His eyes flick from you to Hobi and he almost flinches.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Jin looks back at you. “Did you have to tell Hobi?”

You bristle “I didn’t tell him anything yet. That’s how you properly protect people. Instead of you know-” The insult doesn’t make sense and neither does your anger. Jin is your pack omega but it doesn’t feel like it when you grab his lapel and shake him a little. He doesn’t move, You’re too slight to alter his course.

Hobi stumbles to your side, hand on your shoulder and Jin's. The pack omega almost flinches at the touch.

“Will both of you swallow your god damn pride and-”

The three of you fall silent when Jimin reaches up to grab your thigh.

Jimin's hand on your wrist goes vice-tight, and when you look down at him, he's more lucid. More there through the haze of pain and blood. "If anyone has any right to be mad at Jinnie- it's me."

You stare Jin down, and after a breath, he's the one who looks away from your glare, taking your hands from his coat and gently detangling them.

"Let's just get him to the fucking car." You bite out. And you get back on your knees to gently guide Jimin away from leaning up against the metal. Get your hand around Jimin’s good arm and start to try and tug him to his feet. His eyes follow you fever bright. “Tell Tae that yourself when we get you out of here.”

the three of you get jimin on his feet. Jin under his good shoulder and Hobi by his hip you there, grabbing Jimin's gun and the mask from the ground. Hobi almost trips on a piece of metal.

He’s being so good with this so- so normal. Making pregnant and stressed eye contact with you when you look at him but stay mostly silent.

Jimin’s car keys fall onto the dusty earth just as you get to Hobi’s. placing jimin gently into the backseat before you stop to pick them up.

“My car; they can’t find it here.” You glance at Jin, then Hobi, looking grey.

“Someone needs to be in the back of the car to stabilize you. you can’t just be flopping around when we drive to the-” You break off because oh this just got so much worse; there’s no way that Jimin’s going to be able to go to the hospital. Even with injuries like this.

You make eye contact with Jin again, and both of you realize at the same time, the mountain of evidence that must be inside it, but you're only the three of you- if you take Jimin's car and Hobi takes his and Jin takes his own- no one will be there to hold Minnie and keep him stable. But who knows when you'll have a chance to come back and get Jimin's car.

If the authorities find his car and the body still inside that building. There's no shortage of what they might be able to convict Jimin for. If there was ever a time that you needed another person it would be right now. You should have called Yoongi.

You look up at Jin, “Get rid of it, we just have to-”

“The river-” You stand there, two opposite sides of the same coin both grinning because it's a good plan.

“If we sink it, they’ll never find it.”

A couple of miles away where the floodlights shine, they must knock over something large because you hear the boom and feel the tremble in the earth.

You take everything out of the car first, throwing it into the front seat of Hobi's car. Hobi tries not to think about the items too hard. The sniper rifle, the 3 bulletproof vests, or the ski mask. There's a variety of other equipment underneath the false bottom, arranged perfectly, everything has its spot. An empty tranquilizer gun. Ropes and black trash bags.

The three of you work like a polished team. Moving the car as close as you can to the water Near an old dry dock that flooded, where the soil turns soft and spongy.

It’s hard to push even though you put the car in neutral. the three of you still have to put all your weight into it. Jimin waits in Hobi’s car, parked on the edge. Watching your sluggish procession.

“Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.”

“Shut up you are not going to die” You snap. The line of the doorframe digs into your shoulder as you push with all your might, putting all of your anger and betrayal behind it because it has nowhere to go otherwise.

Jimin really isn’t helping. Hand pressed over his bullet wound, blood slowly dripping from between his fingers.

Your feet fight against the muck, sliding through it, cold and gross around your ankles. Water soaks your socks.

“Seriously I’m bleeding all over the interior. gonna have to get it detailed after i'm gone.” Hobi picks his head up from the other side, grinning at you. You think it’s the first time you’ve even felt a ghost of a smile grace your face since you got the call. He has no idea how much you need that smile.

“It’s red, won’t stain. Don't worry minnie.”

“Your concern for me is glowing.” He's smiling but Jimin’s hand is knuckle-tight over his shoulder.

“Shut up.” you grind out.

Once you get going downhill it’s easy to push the car, down down down until you hit the muck, knee-deep in the fowl-smelling stuff. You walk with it into the icy water. Hobi’s sweatshirt is so big on you and it billows around you in the brackish water. Weighing you down like an anchor in a storm. You guide the car and the cold water is up to your waist. The car thuds and then shudders, bubbling as you get it deeper and deeper.

"That should be good. Come on."

You think you’re fine until you try to pull away from the side of the car and can’t.

Hobi is already cutting through the water back towards the shore, his back to you. You can’t move, and the car is sinking inch by inch. Slowly dragging you along with it. Some corner of your sweatshirt snagged on the doorframe or hooked.

Your hands move scrabbling. Trying to find the spot at your hip where you’re caught. But you can’t see, the water is so dark you can't even see your hands below the surface. Is it terror or just the cold that makes your hands so uncooperative?

You haven’t even had time to cry out before there is a body behind you, hand closing around the spot where you’re snagged under the water, ripping the fabric with strong hands.

Jin’s hands don’t leave you once he’s untangled you, grabbing your hips and dragging you back, back through the mud and up to the embankment. His hand on the back of your neck, “I’ve got you pup, you’re okay, you’re fine.”

Hobi’s already standing up there, soaking wet too. The dust pills on your pant legs and behind you, the car gives one last gurgle. Disappearing for good.

In the dusty darkness, you look at Jin. His gaunt face, soaked with muck like you are. The ends of his hair clumped together, muddy. You blink up at him and he blinks down at you, water in his eyes.

Jimin and Hobi wait, watching you both stand there. Suddenly the gun in your waistband feels too heavy to carry any longer.

Jin closes his eyes, screwing them shut tight like he's waiting for you to shove him again. “Before you yell at me, you should know that Yoongi already knows, about me being an FBI agent. He's known since the beginning."

there is a moment of silence where hobi looks from you to jin. But then You collide with Jin burying your face in the front of his shirt. He swallows past the lump in his throat. One bloody hand comes up to touch your hair and cradle the back of your head.

“Pup- we don’t have time, we have to go. Minnie-” You pull back, eyes wet.

“Alright- alright- just- we’ll meet you at home?”

Jin turns to Hobi, nodding. Hoseok stoops, putting Jimin's legs in the back of the car, they're shaking. All of Jimin is shaking. His body is in shock from losing so much blood and from the cold.

“Don’t speed, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t give anyone a reason to pull you over.”

~-~

(Namjoon.)

The inside of the pizza parlor is balmy with the smell of cooking dough, garlic, parmesan cheese, and Jungkook's happy sunny scent. So at odds with the cold outside.

Namjoon watches Tae and Jungkook giggle and act like pups. Heart clenching the way it always does when he looks at the pack. They smell like roses and honey, like spring days far away now in winter but Namjoon can already feel the spring warmth thawing his tiredness left over from work. A haze to the edge of his vision like he's feeling bumble-bee fluff and sucking honey from the air.

Hope is hot and necessary like sunlight, and Namjoon has a whole lot of it for the future right now. and good for him honestly- it's the last easy breathes he's going to have for a good long while.

He can't believe it. You and Hobi. His body gives an involuntary happy shiver.

Yoongi catches it and raises a knowing eyebrow.

The pack is willing to wait here and give you and Hobi a little more time to sort things out. They've given you hours, they'll give maybe one more. They've already taken Tae and Jungkook out for ice cream. Dessert before dinner has both of them sugar high and hyper.

The pizza parlor is mostly empty- there are no glares or looks as they laugh loud and try to imitate a dance, jungkook's phone propped up on a napkin holder.

Namjoon and yoongi don't join in, they just stare at each other. Yoongi looks like he might be a little bit in shock, the scent blooming every few seconds, sweet chocolate cocoa when he thinks of it, and salty worry when he reaches over to check Tae's phone- just to see if you've texted.

Namjoon knows, and so does Jungkook because Jungkook knows everything.

“I can’t believe they actually-” Jungkook snorts, this isn’t the first time Yoongi’s repeated those words, he’s been muttering it under his breath every few minutes for the last few hours, mostly to himself. Jungkook indulges him this time.

“I know- I thought they’d be emotionally constipated for at least another month.”

Jungkook’s hand is nearly permanently glued to the back of Yoongi’s neck, squeezing reassuringly every few seconds. Even as he and Tae giggle and fall into each other, watching back their video on Tae’s phone. Her sparkly phone case catches the light, and little bits of glitter fall and trickle slowly just like the snow falling outside.

Namjoon's thoughts slush slowly.

Namjoon feels settled down to his bones, in that deep-seated alpha way that he’s not sure he’d be able to articulate even if he tried. Nesting tonight is gonna hit so fucking well. Namjoon is going to scent both you and Hobi until he can feel the sex and pleasure on his teeth and tongue, might just need to taste your arousal for himself. He'll be sweet about it and give you a little wiggle room just to put you back in your places. He feels half feral wanting it already. If he's not careful a scenting like that might send Hobi into rut or you into heat.

Namjoon's almost trembling at the idea of it.

God fucking damn it, he's so in love it hurts a little. He’s sure that Yoongi feels the same deep calmness, the sense of rightness, thinking about you and Hobi.

Yoongi’s lopsided grin says It finally fucking happened. Namjoon’s dimpled smile says, I know, I’m surprised we didn’t have to orchestrate it. They don’t have to say it, the soft words would be swallowed up under the music playing over the loudspeaker (the idol group that Jimin guards- their newest hit).

Their knees are nested between each other’s on the too-small table and too-small seats. Namjoon’s big palm on Yoongi’s knee all tight. His hand over the pack alphas, tangling and playing together in a way that Jin would call flirting without words and Tae might call poetic.

The pack took one car to the pizza place, Namjoon's, gathering snow outside. Probably a bad move honestly because Namjoon is on call. The surgery this morning went off without a hitch, clipping aneurysms on a middle-aged alpha usually goes off without a hitch because Namjoon is quite good at his job. If anything happens post-op Namjoon will have to leave them stranded here.

As Namjoon watches something crosses Yoongi’s face that looks a bit like confusion, his hand leaves Namjoon’s to settle on his hip. Eyebrows pulling together.

Huh? Is it the mating mark?

Their food has just arrived, cauliflower pizza for Jungkook, a messy calzone for Yoongi, and his own meat-filled slice when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Namjoon smiles seeing Hobi’s contact, and answers it. It’s you on the line when he picks up.

“Whatever you do, don’t put me on speaker. Don’t react. Just go somewhere where you won’t be overheard by anyone.” Namjoon's smile falls instantly.

Something about your tone has goosebumps rising on his arms. inexplicable, whether it's instincts or just the fact that Namjoon knows your voice and has never heard you sound like this that tips him off he's not sure.

You’re in the back of Hobi’s car, Jimin sprawled across your lap, your fingers stroking down his cheek, your other hand putting pressure on his bullet wound. Jimin lets out these little hiccupping breaths and in the front seat, Hobi’s eyes flick to the two of you. Your pause your call to soothe him, letting him inhale big settling breaths of your scent. Nose and mouth pressed hard to your wrist. Teeth biting down because Jimin needs something to muffle his pained growl.

"Just hold on Minnie, I know it hurts. We’re almost back to the house."

Namjoon hears it, and his whole body goes cold.

You can say many things about the pack, about pack alphas and pack omegas, but listening goes both ways. Namjoon would never dream of disobeying you when you talk like this. Namjoon stands and walks to the door mechanically. Only when he’s outside, cold air swirling around him, does he speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened," Namjoon closes his eyes "-and I need you not to tell the others. I need you to come home and leave Jungkook and Tae. Jimin's hurt and we need you.”

Namjoon feels the moment the tense breath in his chest sticks there and he realizes you’re not joking. Jungkook looks up, furrowing his eyebrows at Namjoon in the dark window. The snowflakes falling catch the lamplight around him, dotting his red sweatshirt like the reverse of blood on snow.

There’s a pause and then, “There’s a lot you don’t know, but I need you to hurry.”

Namjoon nods then pauses when he realizes you can’t see. He’s not sure he’s ever heard you sound so serious.

“Do you understand why I’m asking you this Namjoon?”

Namjoon has always been an honest alpha, even when it doesn’t stroke his ego. “No.”

“Because if Tae sees what’s happening, she’s going to need someone to comfort her, and everyone needs to be focused on mini right now.” Your voice trembles, breaking. Below you, Jimin smiles, leaning into your arm. Babbling little and delirious from pain and blood loss.

“Love you so much Tae- wanna be your mate- wanna marry you too if y/n lets me- wanna have your pups."

"Jimin. You are an alpha. You can't get pregnant." Hobi says dryly from the driver's seat, making a very careful left turn that's so slow that it garners a honk from the people behind him.

"But Tae could at least try-"

You close your eyes against the lights of the highway, and across your lap you feel wet soaking into your pant legs. You don't look down, You know it’s blood. It’s so warm, spilling across your knees like sunshine. Bubbling up with every heartbeat.

You don’t know how much more blood Jimin can lose before it’s critical, which is why you need Namjoon.

“-And if Jungkook finds out the stress could make him have a seizure.”

Namjoon is silent on the other end of the line. Completely quiet. Frozen on the sidewalk outside of the pizza place. Above him, the pastel blue pizzeria sign buzzes and flickers. Namjoon inhales the cold air, his exhale coming out warm and steamy visible. When he turns to look inside Yoongi is already staring.

Namjoon must look devastated because Yoongi shoots to his feet. Saying something to the others before he heads out after Namjoon. The bell clinging until he's right there reaching for the phone.

“I’ll see you at home.” You shut your eyes tight. “Bring Yoongi too. I need him.”

The phone in Namjoon’s hands buzzes and when he looks the call has disconnected.

~-~

It's a good thing that most of the snow has melted off or else you’d have a harder time concealing Jimin’s bleeding form as you pull into the driveway. You’re barely outside for a handful of seconds. No curtains move in the shuttered windows of your neighbors. No one is in the cul-de-sac, not even Noodle is waiting for you on the rock wall.

There is no red trail in the snow, just a few drops that land on the dark slate walkway that you’ll clean up before morning. The porch light is off and Your hand leaves a dark imprint on the railing as you rush to open the door for Jin and Hobi, supporting Jimin between the two of them.

But the door opens before you can get to it.

"Joonie!” Jimin's tone drips with false cheer, grinning at the pack alpha and your mate standing just inside the house. As Jin and hobi half drag and half carry Jimin inside and out of sight. Blood dripps down the side of his face from his temple to his chin.

“Holy fuck” your mate mutters. Out of Jin and Hobi and you- you easily have the most blood on yourself. Your pants are soaked through with it and muck from the river, even your hair feels wet and sticky. You must certainly look like a sight, like something out of a nightmare or a bad memory- yoongi can take his pick.

(In truth, the sight of you blood soaked brings up only one other night in yoongi's memory; a night just as tense and pain filled as this. the night you killed Geumjae. This won't be the last time Yoongi sees you soaked in blood either. But at least next time the blood you'll wear won't be the packs and you'll be wearing it as a king and not a pawn).

The drive must have truly taken a toll on him because the second the door closes behind you Jimin’s knees give out and his eyes roll back, passing out as the last bit of energy vanishes from his body. Hobi almost falls with him, but Namjoon and Yoongi are quick to come to his aid.

“Quick- the table.”

Yoongi clears the dining room table with a simple swipe of his hands, sending the bowl of tangerines scattering, rolling like many mini suns across the hardwood floor. They put him down as gently as they can, but Jimin's a puppet with his strings cut. Namjoon swoops in, more trained than any of you, grabbing Jimin’s ankles and holding them up above his heart.

"Come on- Minnie- come on " Namjoon reaches over to tap Jimin’s cheek, gentle once and harder the second time, more of a true slap. Jimin gasps awake, but he’s only half conscious. It’s twilight, his eyelashes fluttering face pale. Mumbling Tae's name over and over again.

"Jin, hold his legs up for me- here"

You’ve never seen Namjoon move so mechanically, so professionally. He's already wearing sterile gloves. His black doctor’s bag cracked open and full of gauze and other medical paraphernalia. The skin around the bullet wound is pinched with blood. Gushing fresh as Namjoon cuts away as much of the tourniquet as he dares with a pair of kitchen shears.

Jimin’s head lolls to the side.

Namjoon lets out a single wet noise. You haven’t heard him cry in so long, you don’t realize that’s what it is until you look at his face.

Your mate’s face is pale and gaunt as he looks at you over the dining room table. “Didn’t you tell him anything?”

“No- I wasn’t sure what to say, I-” Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to Minnie, then up at Jin who looks like he might be about to pass out himself. Holding himself away.

“Who shot him? Did someone corner you? Jin-”

Jin lifts his chin about to confess but before he can Namjoon snaps “Everyone needs to be quiet- please.”

Namjoon places his stethoscope oh so gently to jimin's skin Even the slight action makes Jimin’s face twist in pain. The whole pack is quiet and still, like statues.

The moment passes syrup slow, And Namjoon moves his stethoscope an inch to the left, then the right. Only then does he toss it down onto the floor. Grabbing a sterile towel from his medicine bag and presses it hard over the bullet wound. Closing his eyes and grimacing before he stuffs it, fingers and all into the bullet wound.

Jimin jerks violently, howling, nearly thrashing in pain if it weren’t for Namjoon and Yoongi and you holding him down. He flails, hitting you in the face knocking you back.

Hobi catches you before you fall. “I’m fine, it’s okay just- help them hold Minnie" your hand over your hot cheek. It will probably bruise- but you don't even care as you watch as Namjoon pulls himself onto the kitchen table, putting his full body weight over the bullet wound to try and stem the bleeding.

“He needs a hospital. We need to pack it and then take him there. He’s lost too much blood.”

"We can’t- all bullet wounds need to be mandated reported.”

It’s not all that large of a hole to be honest. Maybe a finger with on the back side and a little smaller at Jimin's front because Jin shot Jimin at such close range. It’s a threw and threw. Even though Namjoon packed the front his back still leaks steadily.

“But Jimin will live, whatever’s going on-” Namjoon shares a glace with Yoongi Jin, then you- and you watch as it dawns on him. “wait- You do know what’s going on, theres something you're not telling me.”

It's accusatory but you nod while Jin and Yoongi stay placid. Namjoon looks once at Jin again then at you, deciding who he trusts more to correctly gauge the odds.

Namjoon looks at you, waiting.

“If the wrong people find out Jiminie is- that he’s-” you pause, and Jimin grimaces, there is blood on his teeth, in his mouth. “It might not just be him hurt by the end of it.”

“But we can’t just let him die.”

Hobi just stands by the couch, your nest just tousled as you’d left it what feels like a lifetime ago. for the first time that night- hobi breaks.

"Oh my god Jimin's going to die-"

Jin's hands are in his hair, yanking, "Tae is going to kill me-"

“Shut up, no one is dying yet. If he dies on us I’ll kill him myself.” you scoff, holding Jimin’s wrist, his hand. “I won’t even bother with a gun I’ll just..."

You fall silent with a sudden intake of breath. Yoongi's head whips in your direction. Jin too looks up from where he was just bowed, realization lighting his eyes up bright.

The three of you share a look and for a second, the only sound is Jimin's blood dripping. A little faster with every heartbeat. Down the leg of the kitchen table onto the floor in red rivulets.

Drip drip drip.

(What you don’t know about Jin and Yoongi’s tentative agreement is that even though they know about each other- they've still been on either side of this. They’ve never worked with each other, never shared querying glances like this. It's a special secret language that thieves and secret killers share.)

Yoongi follows your line of sight to the kitchen. The knives sit sheathed in the knife block. The same ones that he bought Jin as a fancy courting present years ago. The same one's Yoongi sharpens before he cuts the meat that the pack eats for samgyeopsal and bulgogi and shabushabu.

A sharp cut is an easy cut to fix, unlike a blown-apart cavernous bullet wound.

“No.” Is your first reaction. Even though it was your idea. “It’s too dangerous.”

"It won't work." is Jin's response. Namjoon glances from you to him. He hasn't yet realized what you're talking about. doesn't posess the same finess for bloodshed that the three of you do (the three of you could conquer the world, you just haven't' realized it yet)

"It will work." Yoongi straightens. there are whispers of darkness on yoongi's face. a childhood he doesn't talk about in his eyes. a childhood filled of blood and less kindness than you'd think; for it to have made a man like yoongi; who knows how to be gentle because he's felt every kind of unplesantness there is.

"I've seen it done before. A long time ago but still- it works."

“What,” Namjoon snaps. "Are you guys fucking talking about?"

“There’s another option.” Yoongi’s hands are on Jimin, holding his wrists down. his other hand tucking his hair behind his ears and kissing his bloody cheek. His hands are getting colder and there isn’t much time. He’s quiet for a moment, lips pressed to jimin's skin, before he looks up. None of you want to say what you’re thinking.

“A good stab wound with a larger knife, through and through will disguise the bullet wound. It will stop him from bleeding any more. No one will know that Jimin was shot and we can take him to the hospital."

Namjoon’s scent is sour, sour, and acrid and it makes Jimin arch in pain, face twisted. He still doesn't understand why no one must know that Jimin was shot. Still doesn't understand that it was Jin who shot him. He'll learn later over hospital coffee but for now, he misses the blood-soaked and cut up FBI vest laying in a heap on your dining room floor. No yellow left on it- just red.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not letting anyone stab anybody."

Jimin’s head lolls on the table. His mumbled words fall on deaf ears. “Stab away….might as well…already stabbed through the fucking heart from Tae" (how could Cupid be so cruel?)

"Joonie look at me." Your hand is on Namjoon’s arm, his shoulder, the back of his neck and he rounds on you. Alpha aggression striking before Namjoon can reign in his instincts. He almost snaps his teeth at you. You don't react at the alpha baring his teeth in your face because underneath it all is the panic of a child, a pup who's terrified he's about to lose his family (a sinking feeling in his gut that says maybe, he already has.)

You understand, you know what it's like to feel that way.

Your voice is so calm and gentle. “Namjoon- you just have to trust me. If we take Jimin to the hospital and if they have a reason to take his fingerprints. There is a very good chance Minnie will go to prison. That I will go to prison- that Yoongi will too.”

Jin blinks, eyelashes fluttering. And Namjoon is silent, Hobi's silent too. All of them watching you. Your hands are steady, and your eyes are clear. The clearest they've ever seen.

“There is a lot we haven’t told you. But you need to trust me.”

It’s then that he spots it. Yoongi’s tone is dark as he yanks the wooden mask out of Hoseok's hands. Yoongi would know those masks anywhere; the one that the family gives its employees. This specific type is to delineate a non-relative. The specific kind is the mask that killers wear.

“Where the fuck did you get this?”

You look up at him, “it’s Minnie’s.”

Yoongi’s chest heaves, breath coming quick and fast. “No, it’s not- it can’t be.”

Namjoon’s teeth look particularly sharp when he snaps. “Does anyone but me give a fuck about Jimin right now? Or do you guys only want to pretend that you do?” The rest of the pack watches Namjoon as he ties a new tourniquet. A better one. he can't meet your eyes. quiet and furious as he pulls the knot tight.

“There are too many ligaments in Jimin’s arm, you could cripple him.”

“What other choice do we have?"

“So thats it?” your voice is a shred past hysterical, “we just take him to the hospital and let him go to jail, or let him bleed out and die here?”

The four of you stand over Jimin, on the kitchen table, the spot where you’ve eaten dinner and broken bread and loved each other for the last year. A place of nourishment and love now a place of pain and terror.

You walk three strides to the kitchen and grab the largest steak knife from the kitchen block. Your eyes dark and determined as you stare them down.

"I'll do it if you won't! I'm not letting Jimin go to prison!" you blink tears out of your eyes and there is a moment of silence, a moment where everyone just looks at you.

There is a warm body at your back, a strong chest and long arms that you know circling your waist to pull you back against them. Rubbing soft down your stomach as another comes up to guide your hand. long fingers that curl around your small fist. Grabbing the knife and guiding it, syrup slow out of your grasp.

"There we go" hobi says, words whisper soft.

It's like his words break the spell. “Give me that thing before you hurt yourself.” namjoon snaps.

Namjoon holds the knife and everyone watches as he walks to the pack's liquor cabinet. grabbing the nearest highest proof bottle that he can find and pouring it over the kitchen blade.

“If anyone’s going to do it, it should be me, because I know where Jimin’s joint is.” The pack nods, agreeing. Scattering.

You toss a rag to Jin. “Wipe the gunshot residue from your hands before we get to the hospital. Wipe Jimin’s too while you’re at it. Just in case.”

Namjoon holds the knife in the kitchen. You all have some amount of Jimin’s blood on you and he blinks from the table lucid.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, staring down at Jimin, knife in his hand. “Go outside and warm up the car. You’ll drive because you have the steadiest hands besides me.”

You and Jin and Hobi are silent, everyone just watches namjoon for a second. Yoongi hesitates, turning back in the doorway. "Do it from behind that way Jimin can say he didn't see who stabbed him."

Namjoon nods, looking down.

There is Jimin’s blood on the doorknob and the floor. You wonder who’s going to clean it up.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, and your mate starts, running out the door, leaving it open so that the cold can slip in. Namjoon’s hand tightens on the knife.

Jimin grins up at him from the table, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do it."

~-~

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~-~

Notes:

the line "A faceless god, if you’re going to take so much from him- the least you can do is give me this." is a call back to a line all the way in the beginning of the series where tae writes "the least you could have done was leave me whole" about yoongi.

the beginning feels a little drawn out but honestly i feel like it's such a traumatizing moment that it makes sense. the beginning was one of those cases that i read it so many times i can't tell if its ass or gas- so it's up for you to decide. i like the later parts of the chapter a lot better.

All things said, hobi is taking this incredibly well.

I was such a sleepy bunny editing this this morning! i'm sorry if there are more errors than usual.

ooh they fighting~ this might be a little bit of a /oh shit/ confession- but i greatly belived that the m/c would have killed jin had she thought that he was actually trying to kill jimin for being involved with the mafia like- one wrong move on his part and she might have shot him. they're gonna forget about it and nothing will change between them but god- that moment where he comes around the corner could have gone so bad if she was a little more trigger happy.

honestly i started to hate this chapter halfway through editing it, if there was ever one that i needed you to show love to its this one god 😮‍💨 i never thought i'd feel out of practice writing this sort of thing.

are the funny parts out of place? do they break up the terror too much or just the right amount?

I cannot take credit for the methodology behind how they hide jimin's bullet wound. i will confess this is copied from an episode of Elementary- ie the american version of sherlock. i tried to look it up if you could possibly conceal bullet wounds this way and didn't find anything so you're just gonna have to trust me.

#bts mafia au #bts omegaverse au #bts polyamory au #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts werewolf fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts hurt/comfort #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #omega! reader #bts a/b/o au #bts a/b/o #bts gang au #bts au #bts werewolf au #bts angst bts omegaverse fic #bts hybrid fic #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk #pjm #myg #bts fanfic

[murdrdocs]

enemies to lovers w ethan please ☺️ w smut maybe

i've attempted to write this like 2 times so third time's the charm! SMUT 16+

There's something about Ethan Landry's face that makes you tick. Maybe it's the wounded puppy stare that he has, that mask of faux innocence. Maybe it's how his teeth are perfectly straight even though he claims that he never had braces.

It has to be just the sheer fact that his face is attached to him. The dork that just seems to always be around.

When you're hanging out with your friends, when you're walking to class, when you're in one of the dining halls, even when you're trying to use the bathroom in your apartment.

You just can't avoid him. No matter how hard you try.

Even when you're somewhere that's definitely not his scene. A Labor Day weekend frat party. AKA an excuse for college students to get together in a dirty house and party their minds away.

You weren't really in the mood for any celebrations, but you decided it's better to go out with your friends instead of staying at home tucked in bed. You hadn't even considered the possibility that Ethan would be there.

Or the possibility that Mindy would bail for her new romantic interest, Anika.

Or the possibility that Tara and Chad would be too busy doing ... whatever they're doing, leaving you and Ethan together.

And you definitely didn't consider the barely likely possibility that the frat boys would play Rihanna, which always gets you worked up, and Ethan would be the closest good looking guy in your vicinity, and your horny mind would make you push your lips against his.

But why would you consider that? That scenario seemed entirely unlikely?

You were always told that you should start thinking about all possible scenarios, no matter how unlikely, before you acted.

And maybe if you had, you wouldn't have kissed Ethan because you could have predicted that it would've led to you grabbing his hand and leading him back to your apartment.

It took longer to get there than it should have. Mostly because you and Ethan couldn't resist stopping to kiss each other. If someone asked you at just the right time tomorrow, when you were in the right mood, you would admit that kissing Ethan Landry felt better than it should have. It felt nice and right.

Eventually you do end up back at your apartment and the absence of the others is greatly appreciated whenever you can stumble into your apartment, your lips on Ethans again, and lead him to the couch.

His knees buckle and he falls to a sitting position, pulling your lips a part as he does go. You look down at him, suddenly enjoying that wounded puppy stare as it looks up at you like you just founded a new element.

You go to climb into his lap, but he stops you. "Wait," he says, his hands reaching out. You pause with one of your knees sunken into the couch cushion. "Before we go any further. I want you to know that ..." he pauses and you raise your eyebrows to tell him to continue. "That I'm a virgin."

You snort, a small smile on your lips as you continue your venture to straddle him. When you do, you rest your hands onto his shoulder and sit just a few inches away from his crotch.

"I figured as much."

He looks surprised, or maybe a little offended. "What d'you mean by that?"

"Whatever you think I meant. Look, if you wanna stop, we can. If you just wanna feel each other up, we can. If you wanna go all the way, we can. You tell me what you wanna do."

And turns out, what nerdy little Ethan wanted to do was get on his knees for you and bury his head between your thighs.

"I've always wanted to go down on someone," he reasons. You warm up just thinking about that. But you deny him.

"Not yet. We can do that next time. For now..." you trail off, pressing a kiss to his jawline as your hands slide down his abdomen. You hum happily as you feel how toned he is, and stop when you reach the button of his jeans.

"Can I suck you off? Is that a fair trade?" He's nodding so eagerly that you think he's gonna hurt himself.

You're on your knees while he unbuttons his jeans. Your manicured hand reaches for the waistband of his boxers, pulling it down far enough that his dick can spring free. It's impressive, that's for sure, and you'll admit that you're already salivating.

"Jesus, E," you mumble, your hand wrapping around the base of his dick, bringing him to your mouth.

You wrap your lips around the tip and Ethan groans. You watch him through teary eyes as you take him the best you can. You watch him as your nails dig into his thighs. You watch him as you choke around his cock.

He watches you as he throws his head back. He watches you as he holds the back of your head. He watches you as cums down your throat.

Unexpectedly, Tara watches the both of you for just a split second before she's on fire and holding in barf as she runs to her room.

#ethansworld! #celeste writes scream #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x you #scream smut #scream 6

[night-daily]

Are friends supposed to kiss on the lips? | Zuko x fem! reader

summary: Sokka's plans are the best.

warnings: none.

Has been two days since Zuko joined the team avatar at the western air temple. The things between you two were tense and the rest of your friends were growing tired of it but Sokka, as the genius he is, came up with a plan.

“Are you sure this will work?” Katara asked his brother. “Well, what's the worst that can happen?”

His plan was simple, Aang will lock the two of you in a room of the temple which can be only opened by him, Katara will tell you that Toph is waiting for you there and Sokka will just drag Zuko, in his mind, you two will become friends or at least will stop barking to each other.

You were training alone in the forest, and controlling the water wasn't hard but you wanna do it perfectly, it has become an obsession. You were tired of being beaten by the fire nation. By Azula.

“If you keep training just your element without moving you'll never improve.” Only hearing his voice made your heart race. “Are you offering to be my target then?” You didn't turn to face him. “More like training with you” The water on your hands fell to the ground. “You don't have to act surprised, like I told you before, I've changed, I'm good now.” He walked closer stopping in front of you. You watched his face, he wasn't lying. “I won't go easy on you.” That was your only response. “I wouldn't expect less.” He smirked blowing fire to you taking you by surprise “Hey! I wasn't ready!” You exclaimed stepping aside to avoid the fire. “The enemy won't give you a warning, you know?” This made you lose your temper, seeing the fire coming out of him remember all the times you have suffered because of it and not only you but your friends and family too. Your fists clenched.

You started turning the water into ice, trying to hurt him it wasn't a training anymore, he sensed your change of mood “Stop!” He thought you would stop but you didn't and you throw him hard on the ground. He hissed in pain and finally, you realized what you have done “Zuko!” You rushed towards him worried. His eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly. You grabbed his face putting his head over your legs. “Please, wake up” You were almost tearing up, this was your fault. “I can’t believe you fall for something so stupid” He was smirking again and opened his eyes just to see you worried. “You're an idiot I thought I hurt you” You push his head out of your legs. He groaned at the sudden movement “Ouch”

You sit away from him on the grass, hugging yourself tighter. You looked so fragile, so broken. Zuko felt his heart ache to see you. “Why are you training so hard?” He was curious because as far as he know you've never liked fighting but what changed? He knows you're in the middle of the war but that never made you be like this, so full of anger.

You didn't dare to look at him. “I'm tired of running away from the fire nation” even your voice sounded broken. For a moment he was confused but then he knew what you meant. Zuko stood up from his place and knee in front of you “look at me” you hesitated and then your eyes were looking at his “When Azula tried to attack you that day, I was afraid, you've been kind to me since the first moment even when you knew it who I was, you made your way through my heart and my mind” your faces were inches apart “I'm always going to come between you and anything that could hurt you, even if it's my sister” and then he leaves you there, alone with your thoughts and your heart beating fast.

what just happened? Did he likes you as you like hi-

“Hey” Katara's voice made you jump on your place “Toph is waiting for you” Toph? Did you forget you were going to do something with Toph? “Let's get going!” Her good humor was contagious so you started walking with her by your side, chatting about your memories together. You were walking for ten minutes until you arrived at the temple, you stopped in front of a room, and you saw Zuko sitting there on a chair, you turned to ask what was going on before Katara push you in there and you heard the door closing behind you. You and Zuko hurried up to the door trying to open it “This door can only be opened by Aang” Sokka explained “And we're not letting you out until you are friends”

Then the room was silent. None of you said or did anything for a few seconds. “Me too” your voice echoed. Zuko looked up to you, confused. “I- I'll always protect you, Zuko” hearing his name coming out of your mouth was like a sweet melody and it was enough to made him blush. He suddenly grabbed you by your wrist and pulls you closer to him. His eyes were looking at your lips making you nervous “ Can I?” He whispered. Instead of responding, you crashed your lips on his, his hands were now on your waist with closed eyes, you two have been waiting too much for this, to be together. Finally, you separated your lips to breathe, but still, you two were closer “Are friends supposed to kiss on the lips?” you asked with an amusing smile. Zuko laughed placing a kiss on your forehead “I hope not”

#atla #atla zuko #atla fanfic #atla fic #prince zuko #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x fem! reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #avatar: the last airbender

[ktaerssoi]

hii could you do a jealous kate fic PLEASEEE

jealously is my middle name

summary: blowing off a project for your girlfriend and her jealously.

(678)

kate martin x reader

Being a business major meant being paired up with others often, and by the middle of freshman year, most people had a go-to partner. Your go-to partner was Violet, she was pretty and super funny.

By senior year, you and she had worked on countless projects together. You guys had recently been assigned a project that would be part of your final grade, wanting to finish it early, you guys had planned to meet up the following day to get a basic layout.

there was one problem though, your girlfriend. Kate had been making up excuses for you to stay home all day, whether it was her pretending to be sick, saying that you had all semester, or just saying she would miss you so much that she would "die an agonizing death."

needless to say, she didn't want you to go. "Kate, I need to go, seriously now." you separated yourself from her, knowing that the physical contact would make you fold.

"I don't know where your problem with me hanging out with Violet is coming from, but we need to get this work done." You and Kate were standing by the front door of your guys' shared apartment, she was leaning against the wall, still trying to bargain with you.

"It's not that I had something against her, I just don't understand why you guys have to meet up so often. I mean seriously, it's like every other day." She had pushed herself off the wall, her hands finding your waist as she now stands in front of you.

you squirm at her touch, the simple action causing your cheeks to flush. "because it's our final kate, it's not like it's optional." you looked up at her, she was 6'0, so it got hard to focus sometimes when you guys were standing so close together.

she nodded, a disappointed look on her face, but you quickly saw her eyes change as a thought popped into her head. She stared down at your lips for a second, and then quickly pulled you into a kiss.

you kiss back quickly, melting into it, a pout on your face as she pulls away. "kate, you can't just do that." she gives you a confused look, but you don't miss the smirk on her face.

"do what? I can't give my girlfriend a goodbye kiss as she leaves to go hang out with another girl?" you shake your head, realizing what Kate's big problem is with Violet all of a sudden.

"you're jealous." you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she tries to pull you closer (if it was even possible)

"I- what?" the look on her face makes you laugh, her being unable to defend herself, giving you all the proof you need. "I am not jealous."

She narrows her eyes, the tips of her ears reddening at your accusations. "you see y/n, if I was jealous, then I would be trying to get you to stay home. I'm not doing that. Leave for all I care, te ll Violet I say hi or whatever." she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands falling to her sides and off your waist, trying to act nonchalant.

"mhm, okay then, see you later k." you smile, kissing her goodbye as you go to reach for the door you don't get far and you feel her hands grab your waist once again pulling you toward her. "okay but seriously babe do you really have to start it today? wait until tomorrow at least," the end of her sentence is muffled as she barries her head into your neck, her front pressed up against your back as your hand is still on the doorknob.

"not jealous my ass."

-

you had texted Violet that something had come up, and you were unable to meet her that day, you and kate had spent the rest of the night watching movies. (along with other things)

it wouldn't be the last time you had to blow someone off for kate.

okay chat, i like dont absolutely hate this but it def isnt my fav, so ill prob rewrite it.. i was also thinking of rewriting the other kate fic bc i just don't like how i left it. also how do we feel about me writing for women's hockey?? lord kk harvey is so fine. anyway chat im actually dying sos - kate

#wcbb #kate martin x reader #kate martin #caitlin clark #paige bueckers #omg shes so fine

[partycatty]

thinking about young mk11 johnny being a bad boyfriend then you meet him again years later when he’s mature and he REGRETS IT SO BAD

i have so many ideas but i can’t get them out recently so ur account gives me life lol <3

OUGH it aches in the bones

older!johnny cage > as the day you left

notes: oooghuig "in another life" trope hurts so BAD.

[ masterlist ]

• a military job wasn't in your grand plan, but a position opened for equipment maintenance it was hard to turn down the potentially heavy paycheck.

• you were buried in your paperwork, taking quick strides to your office to make sense of your diagnostics and order the proper parts for one of the on-field machines when you slam into what feels like a brick wall. just as the force of the blow sends you backward, a hand grabs your arm and suspends you mid-fall.

• you don't even have time to properly react to the scene, only opening your harshly clenched eyes to meet your savior.

• "sorry, i wasn't looking where i—" your apology was cut off when you properly processed just who was in front of you. even with the tattoo peeking through his shirt, you knew that face from anywhere. "johnny?"

• you expected johnny to not even remember you, maybe take a second to realize you weren't just a fan. this expectation is torn from you when he replies with your name, loud and clear. his eyes are wide. gently, he lets go of you to allow you to regain your footing, pulling away as if you were a glass doll bound to shatter.

• he looked the same as when you walked out, perhaps a little more weathered but glowing with charm and personality just as he did twenty odd years ago. thankfully, you thought, he never lost that puppy-like shine in his eyes.

• the moment was lost to him the second he locked eyes. just like that, a torrent of memories flooded back to him. you two were young, too young to be serious in his eyes. johnny was in his acting prime and he couldn't help but flaunt it. all those smiles and sparkly outfits for the cameras but as soon as you were behind closed doors you were nothing more but exhausted.

• "i can't keep living like my life is under a microscope," you huffed, shrugging off the luxury shawl johnny went through hell to make sure you'd have for the red carpet. "would it kill you to just settle down, slow down? i want kids, johnny! i want to go to the store without paparazzi up my ass, i don't need stalkers on our property, i don't need the gold and glamor all the damn time!"

• "well, that's on you for choosing a megastar!" johnny shouted back, undoing his tie in one harsh tug. "all you've ever done is complain when you are literally living large! mansions, super cars, money! and you're complaining."

• you spin around, a horrified expression on your face as you unpacked his wording. "i didn't choose a megastar," your voice drops, so angry you couldn't bring yourself to shout. "i chose john carlton. where the hell is he now, because all i see is a narcissistic child that refuses to grow up."

• you slide your engagement ring off and you slam it into the ground. johnny's eyes widen as he immediately drops to his knees, trying desperately to grasp at the ring as it rolls and spirals out of grasp. he curses to himself, then at you.

• "look at yourself," you grit your teeth. "you care more about a rock than your fiancée. we're done, johnny. you can go tell the media that, too, since that's all you care about."

• johnny blinks once, then twice. he swallows thickly.

• "i'm sorry," is all he can mutter out. god, how he wishes he could say more, but time felt nonexistent when looking at your face. you, however, didn't quite understand his meaning and brushed yourself off.

• "no, it's fine, really," you try to shove past him, anything to break this eye contact that feels as if it's pulling you apart piece by piece. as you think you're out of the weeds, his hand finds its place on your arm once more.

• "please look at me," he pleads, voice barely above a mumble. "i-i haven't seen you in..."

• "—twenty six years," you blink up at him, straining yourself so hard to not break down. "forget it."

• "i'm sorry," he emphasizes the phrase again. "i... i was an asshole, an arrogant, self-centered—"

• "johnny." you cut him off, face stern but voice soft. "it was so many years ago."

• "i know, i know, but — fuck — you've... you've been on my mind this entire time. you never left. god, when you left it felt like my entire... everything fell apart."

• you want to interject, stop him from this spiral, but you can tell he had it bottled up for so long, you'd be cruel to deny him of it now. that, and you had an unfortunate tendency to hear people out and forgive those who don't need your forgiveness.

• "when you walked out i realized just how good i could've had it. you were the only sane person in my world, you tried so hard to keep me in track but i was so afraid of being nothing that i... chose my priorities wrong. you know, i've kept your contact information, even... just in case."

• "i changed my number years ago, johnny. to stop the media from bugging me for a comment."

• "just another thing i fucked up," he runs a hand through his hair. "sorry, i don't mean to be all self destructive." he pauses, and eyes you down. you yourself aged well too, fine lines and trickles of grey hair peeking through your uniform hat. johnny chuckles dryly as his eyes focus on the little details. "you look just as beautiful as the day you left me."

• "don't do this," you quietly plead, eyes now feeling wet and face feeling hot. "not now. not after all this time."

• "i..." he swallows again, now averting his eye contact. the pause is long, and you almost considered walking away before he speaks up again. "i got married, by the way, though i'm sure you saw... in the news."

• "i haven't." johnny shoots a dubious look at you, then realizes you probably avoided his name like the plague in news articles.

• "my wife runs the army. my daughter is commander."

• "daughter?" now it was your turn to frown.

• "cass... cassandra?" johnny explains, though you sense a hint of shame in his tone. "cassie."

• "didn't strike you for a family man." the irony stings when it slips past your lips.

• "i didn't either," he wipes his face. "but i realized... far too late... that what i wanted more than a legacy for myself was a legacy for my family. i wanted my efforts to mean something. i wanted to better the world with more than just shitty movies."

• just as your turn rose to frown, now you couldn't help but let out a chuckle yourself. "your movies weren't shitty," you reply, smiling weakly. "i liked them."

• "no you didn't," his grin is teasing, and you notice just how deep his smile lines were. "no need to lie."

• "honest to god," you hold a hand up, swearing. "they were a nice escape from reality."

• his lips turn into a fine line. maybe your choice of wording was more painful than intended. his fists clench and unclench and you watch his mouth fight to get more words out.

• "i wish..." the always confident actor couldn't bring himself to look at you. "i wish i had grown up sooner, you know." johnny could be digging a dangerous hole, but he didn't care in the moment. he felt young again, nostalgic. "we could have had a life like this together, like you want... wanted."

• "you have that now," you get defensive, trying to put a barrier between his words and your heart. "a wife, a kid, a good job. you got what you wanted."

• "but it's not with you."

• whether it was dread or excitement, your heart flutters. was it really true that after all this time, he still wanted you, missed you like you missed his mature self? your thoughts of what could've been claw their way into your mind, and you feel hazy. your eyes wander around his form again, taking in his impressive physique, kind eyes, mature outfit... stopping at the ring finger. your breath feels sucked from your lungs when you pull yourself back to reality.

• "maybe in another life," you propose, a weak shrug tugging at your shoulders. "but i hope you know i don't... i don't regret what we had. our story, though, ended twenty six years ago, johnny. you're in a new chapter, enjoy it, okay?"

• the rejection at his desperation feels like a gunshot to the chest, like he could just die then and there. yeah, he had roots here, but if you had just asked him to run away with you, lord knows he'd consider it. but you wouldn't ask him to do such a thing, when he's finally got his shit figured out.

• another coworker enters the long hallway, entranced in their task that tears both of your attentions away from the heavy conversation. you know even still that his reputation is important, on screen and now off, too. so, you abandon the conversation as it stands, not giving johnny a chance to agree to your request and spin on your heel, returning to your own assignment and leaving him to his own. your head is down as you hug the papers, wishing to forget that you work with your ex-soulmate. it's an impossible task, really, when you catch his lingering cologne and scent on your body from his hold. that scent didn't change, either.

• johnny feels frozen in place, afraid to move and lose the moment where it stands. he watches you until you turn the corner, and listens for your footsteps until there isn't a trace of them anymore. his heart feels... heavy.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk11 #marley writes ☆

[wed-in-the-apocalypse]

Caught

Tara carpenter x reader

Drabble 2

----

2 months of dating Tara, it had to be the best 2 months of your life, but dating Tara also came with some difficulties, you see, it was hard not to tell absolutely everyone in the world about your beautiful, amazing, talented girlfriend: Tara Carpenter.

And this was one of those times.

You were hanging out with the core 4, along with Mindy's girlfriend and your best friend; Anika, and Ethan with Quinn.

You guys were walking in the city as usual, per Tara's request to explore the city, and of course you loved showing them around, but you weren't in the greatist mood, the problem was that Chad had been all over Tara the entire evening, you tried to keep your jealousness at bay, it wasn't his fault, afterall, your relationship with Tara was a secret, still you couldn't help but feel jealous at the sight of Chads arm slung over Tara's shoulder as he talked her ear off, but you tried not to look and kept going.

"Hey guys, Can we stop for some food?, I'm hungry" Ethan whined, "Sure, There's a pizza joint right here" Anika said, pointing at a small building, "There's alot of people in there.." Sam muttered, eyeing it wearily, "It's fine, I'll go in and grab some pizza," Quinn said from behind you, "Who has money?" "Oh, I do," You reached into your pocket and pulled out some 10 dollar bills, "Here" Quinn took it, "Thanks, Okay, What kinda pizza do you guys want?" "Mushrooms!" Chad exclaimed, "Pineapple is fine" Sam murmured, "Ugh, That's all so gross, Get some cheese pizza for me" Mindy made a disgusted look, (idk, mushrooms and pineapple on pizza is just gross to me) Quinn nodded and went inside.

You didn't have to wait to long before she came back with four boxes, "Thank god," Ethan whimpered, "Mmm, this is great" He said taking a huge bite out of his pizza slice, "Alright guys let's go back to the apartment" Sam called, so you all followed her back.

----

When you got back and Sam finally found the key you all burst in, Mindy crashing into the couch as a loud groan left her, and you chuckled, "My fucking ass is sore," Mindy whined, "Why'd we have to go ice skating?" "Because i wanted to remember?," Anika said flopping on top of her girlfriend, "And it was funny watching you and Chad fall" "Hey!," Chad protested, "It was slippery.." They countinued to insult eachother and you sighed, quietly slipping into Tara's room, you sat on the bed with a heavy sigh, trying to get the image of Chad catching Tara from nearly falling on the ice out of your head.

It wasn't working very well.

You groaned, falling back on the bed and putting your hands over your face, you couldn't hear the quiet pitter-patter of feet over the yelling and laughing, the door creaked softly as a small head poked through the crack, "Hey baby," A voice said softly, "You okay?, You were quiet almost the whole time we were out" Tara approached the bed, sitting at your side, "Yeah, i'm okay Tar, just a bit tired" You gave her a comforting smile, but she knew better, she raised her brow, you sighed, you both knew you couldn't lie to her, "I just.. it's silly but, it, hurts.. watching you with Chad, i mean, he acts like he owns everything! And i know it's not his fault, we're a secret but still" You sniffed, moving to face the wall. She put her hand on your chin, making you face her, "Y/n, I want you to know that i don't have any feelings for Chad, He's just a friend, And if you want, I can tell him that, Okay?"

Tears welled in your eyes at her reassurance, you sat up, smiling at her, whispering a soft, "I know", you leaned in, and she met you halfway. The kiss was like a promise, filled with love, and passion, words can't describe how you felt in that moment, you could cry, it was overwhelming the feelings you held for Tara. You kissed her with everything you had, telling her without words that you would be with her forever, because words didn't matter. You broke for air but she pulled you back in, this time with more hunger, desire, she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, your tounge swipping over her bottom lip, and she gasped, allowing your entry. Your hand snaked under her shirt, fingers softly scratching the perfect skin under her ribs, and she whimpered at the feeling.

You were to entirely entranced by one anothers beings to hear the footsteps approaching the door, you hadn't even noticed anyone else was in the room until she cleared her throat, you broke away. Anika was standing at the door, with the biggest grin on her face, "I fucking knew it!" Yours and Tara's faces were both bright red, from both emotion, and embarrassment. You stuttered out a "I-I-, Wait, you're not like, Mad?" Anika looked slightly confused at that, "What?, No?, I mean a little because you didn't tell me but no. I'm not Sam for fucks sake" A beat of silence passed, less than a second, as you both sat there in shock, "Okay, Well, I came to tell you guys that we're watching insidious," She went to leave, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Then she left you alone. Tara groaned, hiding her face in the crook of your neck as you laughed at her embarrassed state. She pinced your side, "It's not funny!" she complained, "Well it kinda is-" your sentence was cut short by Tara's lips on yours, she crawled back into your lap, and you happily shut up. "It's not funny" She muttered against your lips, "Okay, Okay, It's not funny" "Damn right" You chuckled at that, "Okay, I think we should go before they think we're having sex" You joked, and Tara nodded, sliding off of you, "Yeah, c'mon".

----

You walked into the living room, suprisingly no one looked at you differently, Chad looked at you and Tara with a hint of jealousy, and Anika smirked at you, but the others were busy watching the movie. You moved to sit next to Ethan, and Tara sat in the empty space next to you, subtly putting her hand on yours, in the dim light of the tv, no one saw as Tara leaned her head on your shoulder, Sam though, had seen it, giving you a slight smile and an approving nod. You smiled back, turning to the tv, you melted into Tara, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you.

Maybe this would work out.

----

sorry for procrastinating on this drabble <3

THIS TOOK FOREVER FOR ME TO DO WTF IM SORRYYYY

@caitlynskitten

@melrodrigo ?

@jenflirts

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #ellie alves x reader #phoebe atwell x reader #why this took me forever i don't know :/// #AND ITS SO SHORT???