#because it's weekend and I'm supposed to be able to rest and why is there never any time for me to just sit down

[crystalelemental]

Reading that article on autistic inertia and got to the blurbs about meal prep and holy shit is that a whole mood.

#personal shenanigans #for context I cook in bulk #like 24-28 meals for my wife and I in one day #covers a full week #very efficient #but then weekend comes and I fucking hate doing it #because it's weekend and I'm supposed to be able to rest and why is there never any time for me to just sit down #so yeah #definitely feel that one

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ sometimes goodbye is a second chance ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : Jack and his ex reunite at Nico’s wedding, reigniting some old feelings between the pair

warning(s) : a heavy makeout session, mentions of injured!jack & hockey injuries

author’s note : was reading something for jack then realized that it’s been a hot second since i wrote anything for him so that’s how this lil thing was born lmaoo. enjoy loves

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She wasn't going to go to the wedding. As a matter of fact, she made sure she had plans for that weekend that she was supposed to be in Switzerland so she could use them as an excuse to why she couldn't be there for the wedding.

Then Nico did everything but get on his hands and knees to beg her to come since she is one of his close friends. How could she say no to those big doe eyes that the captain of the Devils has? Even she's not immune to those eyes of his.

It's a beautiful day when she arrives for the wedding. Nico waits for her by baggage claim when she walks into Bern Airport after getting off the plane that brought her to Switzerland. She smiles and runs up to her close friend. Despite everything that happened right after the new year, she and Nico stayed close.

Well, as close as they could be while she was busy avoiding one of his teammates.

When she gets to Nico, she wraps her arms around him. "So happy you could come," Nico tells her as they back away from each other. "Mia is even excited that you're here."

"Nico, I can't ever say no to either of you," she teases. "I'm happy that I came too though. Forgot how beautiful it is here."

She grabs her suitcase and duffel bag before she walks outside to Nico's car. "So, all the guests are at the hotel already since the rehearsal dinner is tonight on the roof," he tells her as they load her stuff into the car. "There's probably enough time for you to take a nap if you want to take one since I know you're a big napper after you travel." She playfully punches his shoulder as soon as she's settled in the passenger's seat. "I'm just saying that you came in eight hours before the dinner so you have time to sleep if you want!"

"You don't have to call me a 'big napper'," she retorts with a smile on her face. Nico sticks his tongue out at her. "Oh, how grown up. Aren't you getting married tomorrow?"

"And my fiancé finds it cute when I stick my tongue out at her."

"Doesn't work on me, Nico. Hate to break it to you."

After about twenty minutes of driving, Nico pulls up to the hotel. She looks up at the building with a sigh.

The entire drive, her mind has been on her ex-boyfriend. She knows that he'll be here, but she doesn't know if he's already here.

Nico turns the car off as soon as he finds a parking spot. She sighs and unbuckles her seatbelt. She waits to get out though. She doesn't know how she feels about running into Jack, but right now she's very anxious.

It's not that they ended on bad terms. She just couldn't watch him keep playing and risking long term damage to his shoulder.

He kept forcing himself to get back on the ice before his body was ready and he wasn't able to heal correctly. She couldn't bear to watch him keep hurting himself, so she walked away.

Of course she kept tabs on him throughout the rest of the season after she walked away in January. It broke her heart to miss the Stadium Series game because she was looking forward to seeing both him and Luke play. She was ecstatic when she saw online that he was going to be getting surgery on the shoulder that he hurt in the game against Chicago.

She didn't reach out though. She didn't think she had the right.

"I know you're worried about seeing him," Nico states. "I made sure that your rooms were on different floors so you won't see each other until later. He, um ..." he trails off. "He tells me all the time how much he wishes he listened to you and let his body heal."

"He only keeps saying that because he wishes he never lost me," she comments as she blinks away the tears that have formed in her eyes. "I walked away because I couldn't keep watching him hurt himself to play a sport. I know he loves it, but he loved it more than he loved me so I walked away."

"He got surgery back in April," Nico tells her. "Before the season even ended to get a head start on his recovery. He started doing physical therapy two weeks ago so he's doing well. He'll get back on the ice in a month. I told him to take it easy."

A tear rolls down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away. "Why couldn't he just do this sooner?" she says. Her voice is so shaky that she can barely speak.

Nico grabs her hand. "He needed to lose you to realize that what he was doing was not okay," he replies. "I know how hard it's been for you. Both of you. I think that the two of you should talk this weekend. For both your sakes."

She shakes her head and looks at Nico. "I don't know if I can face him after walking away from him," she cries. "You didn't see the look on his face when I left the apartment that day, Nico. You didn't see how much I hurt him when he was already in physical pain. I don't know if he even wants to talk to me after that. I kicked him when he was already down."

He pulls her across the armrest and into a hug. She cries into his shoulder and grasps onto his t-shirt. "He's worried that you won't talk to him," he admits. "Just so you know. If you want to talk to him, do it. You both need some closure."

The worst part is that she knows it too. She walked away and didn't reply to a single one of his texts or calls. She moved to Philadelphia to her brother's apartment so she was just far enough away that he couldn't drive to her but close enough if something happened to him.

She never stopped caring, and she should probably tell him that.

With a nod, she pulls away. "Okay," she sighs. "I'll talk to him. Only if he wants to talk to me though."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She doesn't talk to Jack at the rehearsal dinner. As a matter of fact, she doesn't even see him at the rehearsal dinner. There aren't a ton of people at the dinner either so she thought that she would see him. It surprises her that she didn't.

Getting ready the next afternoon though, she knows that today will be the day she sees him. At least she'll look her best when he sees her for the first time since she walked out on that cold January day. Same goes for him. Jack's always looked good in a suit and tie. She wonders which one of his game day suits he'll be in today.

Three rolls around and she heads from her second floor hotel room down to the first floor. She'd walk down the stairs if her feet weren't already killing her from the heels she has on.

The ceremony is taking place in the ballroom because of how many guests will be attending. The reception and dinner are taking place up on the rooftop at five so Nico and his new wife can get some pictures taken up there before everyone joins them.

Elevator doors open and she's met with the one person she's been wanting to avoid until the reception tonight. Jack freezes like a deer in headlights, but his eyes drink her in as she steps onto the elevator.

It's not like she's wearing something very revealing. The top of her red dress hugs her body, shoves off her curves, and pushes her breasts up a little bit. Her loose sleeves hang off her shoulders. The skirt falls to her knees and is kind of puffy.

"Uh, hi," Jack breathes out as the door closes behind her. "You, um, look good."

"Hi," she replies as she runs her fingers through her curls. "You too. Um, look good." His red tie with his black and white suit matches her red dress. Nico definitely told him what color that she was going to wear.

His eyes flicker down her body again and she feels self-conscious of the way her dress hugs her body. She crosses her arms over her chest and prays that the doors open soon.

Jack quickly picks up on how uncomfortable she is. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Stare?" she interrupts. "It's fine." The elevator dings and the doors slide open behind her. "I'll see you around."

She quickly makes her escape. Her heels are muffled by the carpet but she finds the room that she knows Nico is in.

After she knocks a handful of times, the door opens. Nico is the one that opens the door. He looks handsome in his suit and tie. He has a white rose hanging out of his flap on his jacket. "Oh, don't you look nice dressed up," she comments.

Nico rolls his eyes and lets her in the room. "Oh, shush," Nico retorts. She looks behind him as she walks into the room to and sees his older brother, his dad, Timo, and Jonas.

"Hi," she says to everyone in the room. "Just needed to come talk to Nico for a second. Won't keep him very long. I swear."

"What's going on?" Nico questions behind her.

She turns to face him. "I ran into Jack," she replies. "Wearing a red tie. Want to tell me why he was wearing a red tie when I'm wearing a red dress?"

He shoots her a smile. "Purely coincidental," Nico tells her. "He does play on a team that wears red and black so many he was missing the team when he picked out his tie."

"Nico Hischier, I'm going to kill you on your wedding day if you don't start talking in the next two seconds," she snaps.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Nico laughs as he throws his hands up in the air in surrender. “I have no idea why Jack’s wearing a red tie. I didn’t tell him what you were wearing if that’s why you came marching in here to yell at me.”

She sighs and rubs her fingers through her curls. “Okay,” she replies. “I think I’m just losing it or something. Kind of freaking out.”

“Have you talked to him?” asks Timo. She looks over Nico’s shoulder to look at him. “I mean, it might solve that unresolved tension between you. It’s so thick that I can feel it when he’s not even in the room.”

With a blink of her eyes, she says, “I can’t believe I never thought of talking to him. Wow.”

Timo rolls his eyes and Nico takes over the conversation. “Look, I know you’re avoiding him because you think he doesn’t want to talk to you,” he begins to say. “But even Timo and Seigs can attest to this, Jack wants to talk to you. Seriously. He’s nervous you won’t talk to him. You’ll be in the same area for the rest of the day. Please say more than just ‘you look good’ to him.”

She groans in slight frustration. “You are insufferable,” she tells her close friend. “Good luck Mia.”

There’s laughter behind her as she walks out of the room to get to where the ceremony is taking place in one of the larger rooms.

It’s almost like a very large conference room with a lot of chairs. There has to be nearly a hundred chairs in the room. She greets Nico’s mom and sister as well as some of his Devils teammates.

Across the room, she sees Jack talking to his brothers. All three of them look very handsome. That’s when she realizes that Jack’s arm isn’t in a sling like he was the last time she saw a picture of him. She was too shocked earlier in the elevator to notice that he doesn’t have on a sling. His hair is a little longer than it was a few months ago. He smiles at something Quinn said.

She takes her seat right behind the Devils, sitting right behind Jack of all people. He sits between Haula and Merc.

When she goes to say something, the ceremony starts.

Talking to Jack is just going to have to wait.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There’s an hour between when the ceremony ends and the reception begins so Nico and Mia can take pictures up on the roof. She needs to touch up her makeup since she decided to cry while Nico was saying his vows. Her best friend grew up so much since they met back at the 2017 NHL draft.

A lot of the guests have already made their way to the roof when she gets up there. She grabs a glass of champagne from a tray that a waiter is holding and takes a big gulp of it to prepare her for the night to come.

She spots Dawson, Luke, Jesper, and Simon all standing by the railing. No Jack so it’s safe to approach despite his little brother standing there. She hopes that Luke doesn’t hate her guts for breaking his brother’s heart.

When she approaches the group of Devils, Dawson gets excited. “Oh my God, I didn’t think you were coming,” he says as he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“And miss a Swiss wedding?” she laughs. “Absolutely not. I wasn’t about to skip out on Nico’s wedding.” The boys laugh, even Luke. Her eyes fall on the youngest of the Hughes boys. “And how are you, baby Hughes? Still settling in well with the team?”

Luke nods with a smile. “The guys have been very welcoming,” he tells her. “Helped me out of that slump I was in.”

She mirrors his smile. “That’s great,” she says. “Glad you were able to come in and get right to it. Being a Calder nominee isn’t an easy feat so I wanted to come congratulate you on your rookie season.”

“Thank you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Jack. He stands with Dougie, Dawsy, Haula, and Nico. Mia stands with her arm hooked with her new husband’s.

Luke, Dawson, and Nemec all walk away to get another drink. Jesper stands next to her. “How many times have you been told to talk to him?” Bratter asks.

“Too many so please don’t-”

“I’m not. I was just going to offer to go get him if you did want to talk to him.”

She sighs and finishes her glass of champagne. “I want to talk to him but do you really think he’ll listen to me if I apologize?” she comments.

“I do,” Bratter replies. She looks up at him. “I mean it. He has been kicking himself for months. I know he misses you. I don’t know if he misses your relationship or just you in his life but he misses you. I think talking to him is worth it.”

She turns her head to look at Jack. He looks happy and she doesn’t want to ruin that. “What if I just upset him?” she questions. “I don’t want to ruin his happiness.”

“He’s not truly happy without you,” Jesper says. “Talk to him. I think he’ll listen to what you have to say. Maybe he will even offer his own apology to you. I’ll be right back.”

Then he walks away. She watches him walk up to Jack and say something to him. She stands straight up and sighs when Jack looks over at her. She puts a smile on her face and heads over to the group.

It’s now or never. It’s early in the evening so neither of them are drunk yet. She’s had just enough alcohol to give her the courage to have this conversation with Jack.

All eyes are on her, but her eyes are on Jack. “Hi,” she breathes out. “Can we talk for a second? Please? Alone?”

Jack nods and hands his drink to Dougie. She shoots a smiling Nico a glare as she turns and walks inside so they’re away from the prying eyes of Jack’s teammates and her mutual friends that she has with Nico. They’re all very nosy.

She finds a little room off to the side that she walks into with a sigh. She picks at the skin around her fingernails out of nerves.

This is truly it. The next few minutes are either going to make or break whatever relationship or friendship they have left. She bites the inside of her cheek as she turns and faces Jack.

“What did you want to-” Jack begins to say before she interrupts him.

“I want to apologize,” she quickly replies. “For that night. For ignoring all your calls and texts after. I shouldn’t have given you that ultimatum. Not at that moment, anyway. I caused you emotional pain while you were in so much physical pain.”

Jack’s face falls into a frown as she talks. He starts to shake his head the longer she talks. “No, you had every right to give me that ultimatum,” he tells her. “I pushed myself way too hard and losing you opened my eyes to just how hard I was pushing myself. To what I was putting my body through. I didn’t understand why at first but now I do. I’m sorry that I saw that too late.”

Tears form in her eyes at the softness of his voice. She wasn’t expecting this Jack when she talked to him.

“I thought you’d be mad,” she admits. “I thought you’d want to yell at me for walking away. For ending it.”

“I was mad,” Jack says. “Believe me. I was so mad that I pushed myself even harder for a few weeks. Then there was setback after setback and I finally understood why.”

The tears that formed in her eyes roll down her cheeks, painting her skin black with eyeliner. She should’ve grabbed her waterproof eyeliner but she didn’t.

She stares across the room at her ex. Neither of them say a word for a second, before she asks the question she has wanted to know the answer to for nearly six months.

“Why did you do it?” she asks. “Why did you have to push yourself so hard and risk long term damage? Don’t tell me it’s because you love hockey and put your all into the sport. You shouldn’t have to push yourself to the point of surgery.”

Jack looks down at his feet and she raises her eyebrows. She presses her lips in a tight line as she waits for him to respond.

The answer she gets is not the one she was ready for.

“I thought that no one would care about me or love me if I wasn’t playing hockey,” Jack mumbles. “All anyone has talked about this season is me and my brothers. Hughes Bowl, me getting to 100 points after hitting 99 last season, whatever about me and Luke playing together. It seemed like no one would give a shit about me if I had stopped mid-season to heal. It seemed like everyone would write me off as weak or get mad at me for taking care of my shoulder. So I pushed you away and pushed myself to play until we got eliminated from contention so no one could blame me for missing playoffs. I didn’t want to be the reason we missed playoffs, but it feels like I am anyway.”

She frowns at his response. She had no idea that he felt this way.

There’s some space between them so she takes a few steps forward so she stands in front of him. “You could have talked to me,” she softly tells him. “I was willing to support you through whatever you needed to do to be healthy. Yet you seemed to care more about hockey than me.”

He lifts his head up and that’s when she sees the tears in his eyes. She pouts at the sight.

“I didn’t want you to see me at my lowest, and I’m sorry for pushing you away,” Jack comments. “I love you and I didn’t want you to see that side of me. I love you more than I have ever loved hockey. I should’ve listened to you when you told me to rest and I didn’t. I should have.” He pauses for a second and meets her eyes. “I never should have let you walk out that door.”

She reaches up to dry his cheeks when the tears begin to roll. “You know that everyone would still love and care about you if you had just pressed pause on the season,” she tells him. “Everyone that loves you would’ve supported you if you just let your body heal. No one likes seeing a player push himself to surgery. I would have stayed and helped you instead of loving and supporting you from afar.”

Jack leans down and rests his forehead on hers. His eyes are closed and her hands rest on his jaw. Her thumbs trace his cheekbones and her eyes remain on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Jack softly says.

“I’m sorry for walking out on you when you needed me,” she tells him. “I kicked you when you were down and it wasn’t fair of me to do that to you. I’m sorry I broke your heart.”

He wraps his hands around her wrists before he pulls them down so he can lace their fingers together. He doesn’t pull his forehead away and she doesn’t move either.

“You never broke my heart,” he whispers to her. “I broke yours by choosing hockey over you. I never wanted you to feel like I loved a sport more than you and that’s what I did. It’s my fault.”

She shakes her head and pulls back. Jack’s eyes open and he looks at her. His blue eyes shine with tears. “Even after everything, I still love you,” she admits. “I don’t believe that you can break my heart, Jack Hughes.”

He lets out a light laugh and shakes his head. “Same for you,” he tells her.

A small smile forms on her lips as she looks up at him. He lets one of her hands go to wipe away her tears. His thumb comes away black and he wipes her eyeliner on his black pants.

“Can I get a redo?” Jack asks. “On that ultimatum that you gave me? I have an answer for you.”

She bites the inside of her cheek before she asks in reply, “Is it going to be me? Or is it going to be your career?”

“It’s you, baby,” Jack instantly replies as he lifts his hand to cup her jaw. “It’ll always be you.”

The smile on her face grows. She licks her bottom lip as he pulls her in for a soft kiss. She hesitates for a second before she returns the kiss.

Jack drops her other hand so he can cup the other side of her jaw. Her fingers grasp at his open suit jacket so he can’t get too far. She wraps her arms around his torso under his jacket.

He takes a few steps forward so her back is pressed against a wall. She gasps as soon as her back hits the cool, smooth surface, but she doesn’t break the kiss. Jack leans down into her to deepen the already deep kiss. She presses herself flush against him.

His hands slide down to her waist before they slip behind her back. She feels his fingers graze the zipper and that’s when she pulls back. “Jack,” she sighs. “Not now.”

“Later though?”

“We’ll see,” she replies. “I think we should go back out. I’m sure Nico’s looking for us.”

Jack takes a few steps back to fix himself. She takes the moment to make sure she’s presentable as well.

With a sigh, she grabs Jack’s hand and they leave the room. Their fingers are laced together as they rejoin the reception. “So, how are we going to explain this to our friends?” Jack asks.

“We’ll just tell them that we got our heads out of our asses and apologized to each other,” she replies. “That we still love each other. I think saying goodbye gave us a second chance to do this the right way.”

They turn a corner and find themselves back on the roof with the rest of the party. “It did,” Jack says. She looks up at him. “Are you my girlfriend again? Or do I have to get down on my knees to beg you like I did the first time?”

She shakes her head with a laugh. “I’d like to see you get on your knees for a different reason so yes, I guess I’m you’re girlfriend again,” she tells him.

Jack presses a quick kiss to her lips, but every single one of their friends has already noticed.

“About damn time!” Nico shouts from across the room. A few of the Devils cheer for them and she steps even closer to her boyfriend.

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MASTERLIST

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#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #jack hughes #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes fic

[melanieph321]

Idea!

Getting in a big fight with Ruben becos he just assumes you will go to his away game (maybe with Portugal?) but you never said that and you told your friend you would go to her birthday dinner that same weekend back in Manchester

Love this! 🤭

Ruben Dias x Reader - Hate It When We Fight

Enjoy!

Ruben had a bad habit of assuming that you didn't have plans for the day. It didn't matter if you had a packed schedule or a long list of tasks to complete, Ruben always seemed to think that you had nothing better to do than spend time with him. Today was no different.

"Why haven't you packed your bags yet?" He asked.

"Pack my bags?" You sat comfortably on the sofa, watching TV. "Why would I do that?"

Ruben had appeared before you dressed in a full traveling kit. You had known about his away game with the Portugal's national team, but not about Ruben plan's to bring you with him.

"You're coming, aren't you?" He said. "The taxi will arrive in twenty minutes. Just pack the essentials and I'll buy you whatever you need over there."

"Ruben?" You were caught off guard by the way he adressed you, hesitating before responding. "You know I can't just pack my bags and go with you, right?"

"Why not?" He shrugged, genuinely confused.

"Um...maybe because I have plans of my own."

He snorted "What plans?"

"What plans?"

You had been planning to use that week to focus on a big project at work and your best friend had invited you for dinner tomorrow night. Ruben was well aware of this since you told him a couple of days ago. Hadn't he listened to you?"

"Y/N, it's a big game." He said. "Everyone's friends and family are gonna be there. Just pack a bag and that will be it."

"Ruben, are you not hearing me?" At this point you were getting really annoyed.

"I hear you baby, I do. But I'm sure your boss can give you a day off, can't she?"

You stood, folding your arms. "No she can't Ruben because that's not how the real world works."

"What's that's suppose to mean?" He felt the tension erupting between you.

You sighed. "Ruben it means I'm not here to tend to your every need. My days do not evolve around your life."

"I didn't say that."

"No. But you did ask me to take a day off without considering that maybe I'd want to work, not go to your game."

His response was silence, a deep frowned on his face. You felt guilty but obligated to hold your own. "I'm sorry if you counted on me to be there for you, but I won't be able to make it this time."

"I get it." He nodded, voice clogged with somthing. "I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have..." He really struggled. "...whatever you said."

"I'm really sorry baby. Will you still give me a call once you've reached the hotel?"

"Sure." He nodded, but did not meet your eye. "I will call you."

"Great, have a safe trip."

You stepped forward, expecting a kiss. Ruben however, ignored you, or perhaps didn't see you step up to him. Instead he moved on to the hallway where his bags waited.

"I guess I'll see you in three days." He mumbled.

"See..."

The door slammed shut before you could finish the sentence.

"...you."

Somthing very odd and unpleasant washed over you. It made you wonder, had you done somthing wrong?

For the rest of the evening you kept your phone near, expecting a call from Ruben at any moment. However there was nothing. Not a call, not a text, just radio silence. It was so unlike him, so you decided to call him yourself. However, you were immediately discarded towards his voice mail. If Ruben was upset, you thought,  ignoring you was definitely not the way to handle things. Three days went by without you hearing a word from him. You would have assumed the worst if it hadn't been for the pictures his teammates took of him, posting them online.

"Whatta hell Ruben?"

It was not the warmest welcome he received upon his return. But you could never stoop so low as to ignore your boyfriend for three days just because of a small argument.

"I waited for you to call me for three days." You showed with your fingers. "Three fucking days Ruben."

"I know and I'm sorry." He muttered, leaving his suitcases at the door. He walked over to the sofa, taking a seat. "I needed time to think."

"Think about what?" You frowned.

Ruben shrugged  "Us, our relationship."

"Oh."

You sat down next to him.

"W...what did you....did you...?"

"I thought alot about what you said, about how the real world works."

Since you hadn't really meant much by those words, you could only glare at him. "H...how does it work?" You asked nervously.

"I guess that's what I don't know. I used to know, but now I don't."

What do you mean baby?" You scooted closer, seeing how Ruben had really gone through this question in his mind. You knew how much he hated having to play football when things weren't sorted in his head. In a way you felt responsible.

"Fuck, Y/N, I owe you an apology." He sighed. "You were right. I just assumed that you didn't have any plans these three days. That you could just pack a bag, leave your life behind just to join mine. Little do I forget about the privilege I have to be able to travel the world, doing what I love. For a moment I truly assmued that my life was better than yours, that my offer was one you wouldn't say no to. What a dick move that was. I really am sorry."

"Oh Ruben." You, threw yourself at him, hugging him. He shifted his weight so that you would lay under him instead of on top of him on the sofa. He cleared your face of hair that had fallen over your eyes, bending down to kiss your lips.

"Fuck I missed you."

Butterflies invaded your stomach for Ruben looked at you like there was no one else.

"I missed you too."

He kissed you like there was no one else.

"Forgive me."

He wanted you like there was no one else.

"I forgive you."

There was no one else in the world that loved you the way Ruben did.

"Y/N, please." He pleaded. Somthing like this will never happen again." His head shifted to lay against your breast, your heart beating in his ear. Your hand stroked his cloudy hair. "I know baby, now let's just let this go."

"Okay." His eyes shut. "Just know that..." He was halfway asleep. "...I really am sorry."

As his breathing slowed down, Ruben was finally able to rest. You weren't the only one who hated it when you fought.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst

[softpine]

"So... How do you rate our chances of survival?" "I'm trying not to think about it."

↪ Until Dawn AU

you should be able to follow this even if you haven't played until dawn, but i'm not sure anyone will want to read this lmao. major spoiler warning if you do! also since you're not supposed to say the monsters name and it was a bastardization of native beliefs anyway, i'm just calling it "the creature".

anyway, here's how the frozen pines crew would fare in until dawn...

Danny purchases an abandoned hunting lodge in Blackwood Pines. He hasn't gotten a chance to stay there himself, but he allows Asa to bring his friends up for a weekend visit as long as they check in regularly. Unbeknownst to anyone, this lodge was closed down in the 80s after a teenager (Finn) disappeared, and the team sent to find him was found partially eaten in the woods. Finn's body was never recovered. He's said to haunt the lodge ever since, chasing away anyone brave enough to step foot inside.

The group arrives at the lodge just before sundown. Alisa reveals that she brought her Ouija board, so they all gather around to use it – except Austin and Elaine, who are annoyed because they'd been the last to arrive and the cable car had gotten stuck, meaning they'd had to walk all the way up the mountain. They just want to relax, not taunt spirits. Asa mentions that there's a cozy guest cabin down the path where they could be left alone. Austin jumps on the opportunity, but Elaine is reluctant to walk even further, especially now that it's dark. Stevie picks up on her anxiety and argues with Austin on her friend's behalf. ("Why did we come all the way out here if you two are just gonna go somewhere else and bang?") Matt tries to diffuse the situation, but it just makes Austin more annoyed. He says he's going to the cabin whether Elaine comes or not. Elaine rolls her eyes but eventually follows him, though she promises she'll call Stevie once they're safe in the cabin.

As they're walking, Austin apologizes for getting angry and Elaine forgives him. They make it to the cabin without incident, but when she tries to call Stevie, she realizes she lost her phone. She wants to go back to the lodge, but Austin convinces her to stay and they'll look for her phone in the morning. This part follows the events of the game closely, ie. Austin starts a fire and they talk for a while. They start kissing and undressing, but are interrupted by a loud crash through the window: Elaine's phone. She thinks Matt and Stevie (but mostly Matt) followed them to play a prank on them. She flips out, yells at them from the porch, storms back inside, and... gets yanked through the window and is dragged away screaming. Austin grabs the gun off the wall and chases after her. POSSIBLE DEATH #1: If Austin takes too long, Elaine could have her throat ripped out by the creature. If Austin is fast enough, he'll follow her screams through the mines, finding her injured but alive. As he reaches out to grab her, the elevator shaft falls and she disappears from view. Either way, Austin will believe Elaine is dead. Stunned, he searches for who or what took her. He heads for the abandoned sanatorium in the distance, unaware of the horrors that await him.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group is finally using the Ouija board. Finn isn't responding with the planchette, but he's scaring them in other ways: making the lights flicker, random sounds come from the vents, and making himself appear in their vision for just long enough to think they've imagined it. Everyone gets scared, except Asa, who finds it intriguing. He goes upstairs on his own and tries to talk to Finn with compassion rather than morbid curiosity, but Finn isn't ready to hear it and he continues to scare everyone. Stevie is the most worried, especially because it's been a few hours without word from Elaine. She wants to go check on her at the guest cabin. Matt thinks this is weird and codependent, but after enough convincing, he agrees to go with her.

When they find the guest cabin, they see broken glass and blood everywhere, with the door wide open and the gun missing. They follow the footsteps until they reach a cliff. Matt knows he can safely climb down it because of his experience in parkour, but Stevie won't be able to. He tells her to use the nearby radio tower to call a ranger for help while he goes to find Elaine and Austin. Here, he has the option of giving Stevie his swiss army knife, or keeping it for himself. He makes his way down into the mines, until there's no more snow, thus no footprints to follow. That's when he hears Elaine screaming. POSSIBLE DEATH #2: Matt rushes to help her, but the screams were only the creature mimicking her voice. He's strung up by his neck and dragged deeper into the mine. If he still has his knife, he can cut the rope and survive. If he gave it to Stevie earlier, he will be defenseless and die. Either way, he or his body will remain trapped in the mines.

Stevie finds the radio tower. She successfully calls for help, but the ranger says they'll only be able to send a rescue team when the snowstorm subsides at dawn. She waits for Matt inside the tower, but he never shows. If Matt is still alive, his shoe will be tossed through the window, landing at Stevie's feet. If he's already dead, his decapitated head will be thrown inside. In both cases, Stevie is horrified and scrambles to call the ranger again to stress the urgency of the situation, but before she can reach it, the tower starts to collapse. She holds on for as long as she can. The tower crashes to the ground, trapping Stevie in between bits of mangled metal. If Matt had given her the swiss army knife earlier, she can use it to shatter a window and climb out safely. If she doesn't have the knife, she has to kick the window out, hurting her ankle. She decides she's done being a hero and starts running/crawling towards the lodge, bawling her eyes out.

Cut to Asa, unbothered, taking a bubble bath in the jacuzzi tub. Finn is leaving him alone, because even he knows there's a time and place for haunting people. Instead, he's focusing on scaring the shit out of Jada and Alisa, who have been wandering around the lodge searching for clues about its history. The basement is filled with animal carcasses in various stages of being skinned or stuffed that were never cleared out after the hunting lodge was abandoned. Jada starts to feel sick, but Alisa is fascinated and wants to keep going. Finn continues to scare them, getting more and more agitated the further the girls explore. He screams at them to get out, but they don't listen. Eventually, he becomes fully corporeal and begs them to leave, but Alisa notices that he's trying to prevent them from entering a small door at the very end of the basement. Naturally, she has to enter that door. She pushes past Finn and steps inside, though nothing could have prepared her for what she sees: A decomposed human body, mostly just bones, curled up in the corner of the room. He's wearing the same clothes as the ghost. She realizes the missing teen didn't die out in the wilderness on a hunting trip – he was killed by someone in the lodge.

Asa hears the girls screaming and hurriedly gets dressed (no anti-gravity towel for him, thank you), but in his haste to find them, he trips down the stairs and scratches up his face. He doesn't know what's going on and he's just plain scared, so he can't help but start crying. This is what makes Finn realize he doesn't want to hurt anyone and he doesn't want to be alone anymore; he wants these people to survive. He helps Asa stand up, which surprises both of them, because he didn't think he was capable of moving things in his environment without being angry. He says Jada and Alisa ran outside and he'll help Asa find them.

Austin flees the sanatorium, which was crawling with monsters and wolves (he was nice to Wolfie, don't worry). He catches up to Stevie in the woods. She sees a gnarly bite mark on his shoulder but thinks nothing of it, because she has no idea about the creatures and assumes it was some wild animal. If her ankle is hurt, Austin helps her walk and Stevie feels compelled to apologize for generally being rude to him. She doesn't hate him, she just worries about her best friend. Austin understands, but then he has to break the news that Elaine is dead. Stevie tells him Matt is dead too. (either, both, or neither could still be alive at this point, but they are always presumed dead). Stevie flat out refuses to believe that Elaine died, while Austin is defeated and believes they're all going to die tonight so there's no point looking for their bodies. Regardless of what Austin says, Stevie will leave him and go after Elaine herself. Austin continues towards the lodge.

Austin runs into Jada and Alisa next, who are stumbling out of the lodge, terrified. He yells at them to go inside. ("Whatever you think you saw in there doesn't hold a fucking candle to what I've seen out there.") They go back inside and lock themselves in a room with a weapons cache. Austin tells them everything he learned in the sanatorium – the forgotten miners who resorted to cannibalism, the monsters they became, and how the news covered up the massacre they caused. He says Elaine and Matt are dead because of these creatures, and Stevie will likely be dead because she ran off on her own. Jada wants to at least find Asa and let him into the safe room with them, but Austin says he's probably dead too (no one knows that Finn is watching out for Asa now). He teaches Jada and Alisa how to shoot a gun. It's while he's doing this that Alisa notices the bite on his neck. For an hour now, Austin has been stressing that these creatures were human once, but they became infected, dangerous and deadly, and he never mentioned that he'd been bitten by one. She screams for Jada to look at it, but Austin is quicker – he grabs Alisa tightly, covering her mouth. Jada is still holding the gun Austin taught her how to use. Even with a hand over her mouth, Alisa can be heard begging her to shoot him. Jada trains it at his forehead and... POSSIBLE DEATH #3: Jada can shoot Austin. If she does, Alisa will thank Jada for saving her life, and says that if they make it out of here alive, she'll tell everyone she did it in self defense. If Jada can't bear to shoot him, Austin will throw Alisa to the ground and run away.

But he doesn't get far. Right there in the living room, two creatures hang from the ceiling sculpture. Austin slows to a stop, holding his breath. It's nearly impossible for anyone to die here, as Finn will save them by creating a noisy distraction. Finn himself is only a visage, so he can't be harmed by the creatures which angrily circle the lodge for their prey. He suggests the only way to escape is by causing a gas leak and exploding the lodge with the monsters inside. POSSIBLE DEATH #4 & 5: If Jada shot Austin, then no one will be able to warn Asa that there are still people in the lodge, therefore Jada and Alisa will die of smoke inhalation in the weapons room. If Austin is alive, he does warn Asa (despite his anger about nearly being shot), and Asa instructs Finn to help the girls escape first. This leaves Asa (and Austin, if he's still alive), vulnerable to the creatures, meaning POSSIBLE DEATH #6 & 7: Asa and/or Austin can fail a don't move section and die. In the event that Asa dies, Finn becomes enraged and lights the fire himself, blowing up the lodge immediately and killing everyone inside, including the humans. If only Austin dies, Finn feels that he has failed, but he still makes sure Jada, Alisa, and Asa are out of the lodge before starting the fire.

Stevie hears the explosion and runs faster towards the mines, terrified at the idea of all her friends being dead. Elaine can't be dead too. POSSIBLE DEATH #8: If neither Elaine nor Matt is alive, Stevie will automatically be killed here, because she still isn't aware of the creatures in the mines and has no idea she needs to stay quiet and not move. But if either (or both) Elaine and Matt are still alive, Stevie finds them in the mines. All of them are in bad shape now, but they're thankful Stevie came back. They have to move very slowly. When they reach the edge of the mine, so close they can see the moonlight from the cracks, they're cornered by a creature. POSSIBLE DEATH #9, 10, & 11: If Stevie runs, she will die. If Stevie hides with Elaine/Matt and fails, Elaine/Matt will die. If she succeeds, they all survive. They stumble out of the mine just as the sun starts to rise over the horizon, the sound of rescue helicopters growing louder.

Much later, after the dust has settled, police recover Finn's body and lay him to rest. The investigation into his death has only just begun, but Finn isn't concerned. Because for the first time in as long as he can remember, he has a companion... In life or in death.

THE END.

please do let me know if you read this whole thing because you're officially my new best friend :') there's a ton more choices and branching pathways i thought about, but i figured this was already insane enough, so i tried to keep it simple fjksjds

#here's how to read the stats: the white vertical lines indicate the baseline normal #the blue line indicates how that stat has changed throughout the night due to the choices you make #i refuse to be embarrassed about making this <- she said with embarrassment #asa mayfield #stevie donovan #finn atwood #elaine nguyen #jada carey #alisa #austin #matt #bloopers

[starsstuddedsky]

Blonde Phase

Renjun x gn reader

summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?

genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any

wc: 4.4k

a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3

“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”

He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”

You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”

“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.

“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”

“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”

“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”

“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.

“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”

“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”

“I did not!”

“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”

“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.

“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”

You frown. “Tonight?”

“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”

“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.

He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.

And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?

.

.

Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.

“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.

“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.

You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”

Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”

“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.

“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”

“Seriously?”

Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”

You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”

“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”

“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”

“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.

“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”

“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”

“Those were their exact words?”

“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.

“That’s more on brand.”

Renjun nods.

You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?

“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”

Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.

You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”

You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”

He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.

“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”

When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.

He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.

“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”

You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”

“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”

You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?

To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?

“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”

“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”

“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”

You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.

“‘So, hair,’” he says.

“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”

This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”

.

.

“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”

“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”

Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”

You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.

“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”

“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”

You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.

You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.

You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.

He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”

You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”

You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.

“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”

“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”

“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”

“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”

“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.

.

.

The timer goes off halfway through an episode.

“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”

“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.

You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.

“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.

You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.

“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.

He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.

“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.

His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.

Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.

You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”

You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.

“I’m right,” Renjun says.

You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”

“For what?”

“Doing all of this for me,” you say.

“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”

You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”

Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.

You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.

“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.

“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.

“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”

So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?

Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”

He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.

“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”

Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”

“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”

Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.

“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”

“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.

It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.

Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.

“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”

“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”

You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.

“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”

Renjun grins.

“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.

“I thought you liked it!”

“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”

“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”

“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.

“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”

“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.

“You like it?”

“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”

You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”

Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“We could have matching couples hair.”

He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”

“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”

“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.

Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”

You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.

“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.

“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”

For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”

“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.

You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”

He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”

His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.

There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

#🌟 stars galaxy #nct #nct dream #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct reader #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #renjun #renjun fluff #huang renjun #nct renjun

[hells-wasabii]

Hi I was hoping if maybe you could do Velvette and Carmilla (poly or separate whichever you want to do) with a fem s/o that had a very abusive ex while she was alive like both physical and verbal abuse. She also has a hard time going out because she is terrified that she might run into them again. No pressure though hope you have a good day!😁

A/N: I'm so sorry i didn't write over the weekend, I got so busy it was ridiculous. Should be back to our regularly scheduled broadcast tomorrow! I'll be honest, this ask resonated with me, I immediately knew that I was gonna enjoy writing this one and you'll see why. Like i did last time, I'll be putting one drabble on one post and the other on a separate one with the ask included!

Character: Velvette

Type: Fic (Velvette x fem!reader who had an abusive ex, Angst, Fluff)

She was going to destroy them. And whatever was left of them when she was done, no one would dare touch, else they also wanted their lives burnt to ash.

Velvette was furious, livid. Needless to say, the influencer was on a war path.

Truly, she was glad that you weren’t here to see her like this. You didn’t need another reminder of that stain of a soul, though she wasn’t just going to lie or keep you in the dark. You knew where she was and what she was planning. You had been in tears when she told you in soft whispers that it was going to be okay, that she was going to ‘take care of it’. She was surprised that she had been able to keep her cool until she had left the flat.

Honestly, the influencer knew that she wasn’t supposed to know about the bastard yet. You had wanted to tell her on your own time and she respected that. But that didn’t mean that she hadn’t already suspected. When you would get nervous out in public, looking out into crowds like you were expecting to see a ghost. The flinching early in your relationship anytime she’d so much as graze your arm.

It figured that they were in hell too. It made sense, all things considered. Plus they were probably slippery enough to stay out of the path of any angels during exterminations

It had been such a peaceful day too. The both of your schedules had aligned, Velvette was between projects and you hadn’t had any real plans until later in the night, which said plans were with the overlord anyways.

It had been so long since the two of you had enjoyed a lazy morning together. Velvette was more than content simply enjoying each other’s company on the couch. You had been entangled with your lover, your arms loosely wrapped around her waist while you rest your chin on her shoulder, watching her scroll through her current feed.

She remembered so clearly how tense you became when she came across the picture. Some club goer that she would have completely ignored other wise, had it not been for the fact that you had started trembling. And then you flinched when the overlord had reached out to cup your cheek. She was quick to assure you that you had nothing to apologize for when you offered a dejected ‘sorry’.

And that was how Velvette found out about your only other serious relationship and the story of your death. Through needless apologies and countless tears.

Now, the influencer found herself storming through the halls of Vee Tower with one destination in mind. Vox’s office.

“Vox I need your help.” These were the first words out of her mouth when she burst in through the doors to the video star’s office

“Velvette, I thought you were taking today off?” The video star startled, quickly closing his current video feed. He seemed more than he would have usually. Whether it was because he hadn’t expected to see her or because of how angry she looked, the influencer didn’t know. And frankly, she didn’t give a shit, either. He could keep watching the radio demon like a creep later.

The video star leaned back in his seat when Velvette didn’t offer an answer. So instead he gesturing for the younger overlord to sit. She did not. Lacing his fingers together, Vox took in the sight that was Velvette. She was angry, that much was obvious, but why? She didn’t have any current projects that he could think of, so what in the literal hell could have her so vexed?

“What’s got you on a war path today my dear?” Though his smile didn’t meet his eyes. No, he knew something was very wrong.

“I need a favor.” This seemed to get his attention. In reality, Velvette rarely asked for favours, instead preferring to get shit done herself. Even rarer still, she was here, asking him in person instead of calling or texting him.

Vox turned to her fully now, a serious expression settling upon his screen. “Of course, what do you need?”

“Your reach is farther than mine,” She admitted, her voice soft, betraying the unbridled rage that dwelled beneath the surface. Reaching into her bag she pulled out a photo of demon who had summoned her ire, sliding a photo across his desk to show him. An eyebrow raise, the older sinner took the photo in his hand.

Mostly uninterested, Vox really wasn’t sure what he was looking at. The picture was ordinary, some demon taking a selfie at a club. Looked like some regular old schmuck to him. Returning his gaze back to his youngest cohort, he found her glaring at the offending photo so hard that he was surprised it didn’t burst into flames right there in his hand. Just to be safe, he put the photo back down on his desk.

“And what exactly did this poor bastard do to piss you off this bad?”

“That’s the fucker who used to beat on my girl.” Velvette all but hissed out, glarring down at the picture. Then, she spoke again, softer, her voice nearly trembling as a more grave expression took to her face. “They killed her, too.”

Vox froze, his screen flickering as his own temper spiked at the revelation. You were good for Velvette. He actually liked you, which was more than he could say about any other demon that the influencer had brought around the tower. Val liked you just as much. He was going to be pissed if he was left out of the fun, the video star noted as he shot the moth demon a quick text to get his ass to his office. Vox’s lips split into a vicious grin, his voice low, practically a growl as he forced out a: “Well, lets get to work then, shall we?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin headcanons #hazbin imagine #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #the vees #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel vox

[sunnynwanda]

Hi! Your writing is just amazing 🤘🏾 may I request a spicy hero x villain , with an EXTREMELY flirty villain. Perhaps giving off a "one night stand" sorta vibe? Idk whatever you're comfortable with. Thank you in advance!

Temptation

Part 2

Hero was livid. Rightfully so. Not only did the asshole of a villain they had the misery of working against attack on Christmas Eve, but they also had to do that on the only chance Hero had of company. They were Christmas carolling near the central square, for God's sake. There was nothing to gain from attacking them there. Or attacking at all.

And it's not like Villain even pursued anything - they were just determined to piss Hero off and ruin their holiday spirit to compensate for their own foul mood. Solely out of spite. So yes, Hero was seething. And Villain was going to regret provoking them.

They grab a garland light off the toppled tree and wrap it around Villain's wrists. They attempt to jerk away and free themselves, when Hero restricts their movements by twisting their arms behind their back and securing them before wrapping the rest of the garland down to their feet to completely immobilise them.

"Stay fucking still!" They growl through gritted teeth, tugging at the improvised chain a little too harshly.

"I like it a bit more gentle, baby," Villain murmurs under their breath, but when Hero smacks them, they start thrashing around like a fish out of water.

Hero picks Villain up, fighting the temptation to knock them out, and throws them over their shoulder. They wish the citizens happy holidays and depart with a heavy heart. Once they've dealt with Villain, there'll be nothing but an empty apartment and frozen pizza waiting for them. All because of the dumbass that keeps banging their tied fists at Hero's back, demanding attention.

"Stop." They order, only to be ignored. "I told you to stop, you absolute prick!"

Villain seizes their blows for a short moment before resuming again with a cheeky laugh. And Hero has had enough. They throw Villain off their shoulder, watching them land on the concrete floor of their apartment balcony. Normally, they would avoid bringing Villain to their own place. But, the agency was closed because every normal human being was supposed to be at home, celebrating with their families.

They land, turning Villain over face up and grasping their collar to pull them to a standing position. A strained breath escapes them from the force with which Hero slams their back against the wall. They hiss when their head makes contact with the rough surface.

"Now listen here, you miserable bastard," they start, anger sweeping over them.

Against their better judgement, Villain coughs out a laugh, only getting Hero more riled up.

"You sure I'm the miserable one here?"

This earns them a blow to the gut, but they can't even bend over properly because of their confines.

"Shut your mouth and listen to me," Hero snarls, no longer able to contain their aggravation. They don't even know why they are so mad at Villain specifically - poor-timed attack aside. It is perhaps their frustration getting the best of them, Villain just happened to cross their path at the wrong moment. "We have two options here."

Villain swallows, their throat tight, then nods. Something is off, and they can sense that. Usually, Hero was up for a little brawl. It was entertaining and never meant to inflict any significant harm. Same for today, Villain was sure the toppled tree was back in position with only one garland and a couple of ornaments missing. Worst case scenario, ten. Hero's rage was far from being equivalent to the damage done.

"You give us both a holiday break, or I leave you here tied up with this garland for the entire weekend," Hero's warning drags them out of their thoughts. But they wouldn't be who they are if they abandoned their plan that easily. Villain pulls their lower lip between their teeth and drags a finger over Hero's toned stomach, eyes lided.

"There's another option, too," they muse in a low voice. They know they are probably laying it on too thick, but they need to get the message across. And if this doesn't get Hero to relax, they don't know what will. With a crooked smile now adorning their face, Villain continues. "If you'd care to twitch your plan a bit, that is."

Hero stares at them with the most deadpan look they can muster. They despise the way their voice sounds hoarse when they finally speak. "How so?"

The sexual tension between them was insane - to a painful extent. It was evident from the very start, but they never succumbed to it and never showed any inclination to cave in. Or so they thought.

"Well, it'd go pretty much the same - you tie me up with the garland," Villain explains, squirming to illustrate their point. And free their arms. "Except, you stay, too, and get to do whatever you'd like to me."

"What?" Hero chokes out, incredulous at the shiver Villain's words send down their back. They are flabbergasted at how quickly they were ready to nod in agreement.

"Preferably for the entire weekend," Villain can't help the teasing tone and seeing Hero's reaction only prompts them to keep going. They gulp, voice heavy with arousal. "If you can handle me for that long."

"I..." Hero gapes at them, utterly at a loss for words. Their skin prickles with agitation when Villain offers them a suggestive wink.

"I'm damn sure that'll be your best Christmas yet."

Hero bites their lip to suppress a throaty groan, and Villain smirks, knowing full well they got them. They can feel the heat rising in their stomach when Hero looks up at them with darkened eyes. Their dilated irises lock onto Villain's when the question drops from their lips. Villain barely registers it, too occupied with the thoughts of that mouth on their skin.

"And what happens next?" Hero asks, barely restraining themselves from throwing every inhibition aside and ravaging them on the cold balcony of their apartment.

"Nothing," Villain squeezes out, their tongue sweeps out to wet their parted lips. Being bound up and at Hero's hands always did things to them they were not prepared to unravel, but this seemed like the perfect opportunity to go there. "We let the tension out of our systems and return to our usual fighting routine."

A part of Hero fears the weekend won't be enough to satiate their hunger, but it's worth a shot. At least they can get a taste of something they have craved for longer than they dare admit.

"You know you want me, darling." Villain chimes in, worming out of their chains and wrapping their arms around Hero's neck. "You can't hide it."

Without further thoughts, Hero crashes their lips in a searing kiss, picking them up with one arm while the other pushes the door open. Villain moans into their mouth, wrapping their legs around Hero's waist as they are carried into the apartment.

They don't know whether this is an incredible idea or a horrible mistake. It's up for debate whether this will end up as a one night stand with their nemesis or a beginning of something much more than that. They don't even know if it's anger or attraction that's fueling Hero's desire for them. If there is one thing Villain does know, it's that they won't be spending Christmas enveloped by the emptiness of their existence.

Part 2

Masterlist

Hi, darling!

Thank you so much for the request and kind words, I appreaciate that! I hope I managed to capture your idea in this snippet and that you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It's not as spicy, but there could always be a part 2, right? :D

xo Sunny

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose  @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney

#hero and villain #villain x hero #hero #villain #flirty villain #hero/villain #hero x villain #hero x villain community #villain and hero #mutual pining #temptation #suggestive content #should i do a spicy part 2? #one night stand #or is it? #creative writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #requests open #sunnynwanda

[turbulentscrawl]

In the poly post you said that ithaqua is as close as it get to a yandere may I ask why you think that ? Or any headcanons related to that if that's okay with you (sorry if the English is bad )

As luck would have it, Ithaqua is one of the few Hunters I think I have a decent grasp on rn so I was also able to crank this out quickly! (To my other request-ees: I'm working on HC requests for several other characters rn! I should have them ready to spam-post sometime this weekend <3)

So here's some general and sfw relationship hcs for Ithaqua ;)

-A first small note, his exact age is not listed, but he’s described as a “young adult,” so I imagine him to be somewhere between 18-22.

-Ithaqua is a man who has entirely rejected society. He wants nothing more to do with it, with anyone, and any instance of breaching his territory is met with wind-swift punishment.

-It all fits when you consider the major events of his life. He was abandoned in a snowstorm, left for dead, because he was thought to be a devil. He was saved and raised by a “witch,” a kind woman who stood outside of society’s norms and was feared and hated for it. Their solitary home was trespassed on in the night, defiled, and his mother was kidnapped, tortured, and broken by a man with his exact face. Every small bit of comfort he ever had was destroyed by a mirror image of himself that was raised in “civilized” society. If that doesn’t cement the idea that people from that world can’t be given a chance, I don’t know what would.

-And I think on some level he questions the reality of it all. Did he do it? Did he destroy his own life? Was his so-called brother actually a copy of himself? Was Nathaniel supposed to be the better or the worse version? Was he himself evil before…or is he evil now? None of it matters in the long run, though. His only remaining goal in life is to defend his home and his mother’s resting place from interlopers. But he does get this distant, sour expression sometimes when he contemplates these things.

-I think he’s close to an as-is yandere because, if we assume he’s still capable of bonding with someone on a genuine level, that person would be a one true exception to his otherwise all-consuming distrust and hatred for society. He could not be “led to water”, so to speak, even by a partner who exemplified everything good left in the world. He’s just not capable of making that leap anymore.

-So again, he’s territorial, and that would 1000% extend to a partner. He’s not a master and you’re not his pet, but god would he try to keep you in his clutches. Use every sweet word and convincing anecdote in his arsenal to convince you to stay in the forest. The thing that keeps him from being all-out controlling is that his mother let him make his decisions for himself. She taught him how to survive in the wilderness, and she taught him about the rest of society, and she let him decide for himself if he ever wanted to get involved in it. He didn’t of course, because how could a place that shunned his mother be good for him? You deserve to make those choices too, even if he disagrees with what you pick.

-He will, however, watch you like a hawk. To not sugarcoat it, he’ll stalk you. Ithaqua wants to be prepared for the moment everything goes wrong. The moment he knows for certain will come, when you see he’s right about other people. When that happens, he’ll swoop in to save you. He refuses to be late again, like he was for his mother.

-He doesn’t leave the forest unattended often, but when you spend longer stints at your home in a village, you’ll notice the weather gradually becoming worse and worse. It seems to snow every day, and the wind is so harsh that walking outside is deafening and blinding. When you return to visit Ithaqua, the village mysteriously returns to its normal weather patterns.

-Ithaqua hates when other people interact with you. No one is no one is safe enough, trustworthy enough for him to not worry for your safety. They don’t deserve to even stand near you. But he won’t do anything until they do…or you say he can.

-Anyone he takes as a partner would have to remind him of his mother, at least a little. She’s the only example he has of a “good person” so he’s not likely to give people with divergent personality types much of a chance. He’s also more likely to trust a woman over a man, by a small margin.

-He won’t stand for being doted on or babied by anyone other than his mother or partner. he won't fall for other people's faux-gentleness! Don’t you know who he is? What he is? Call him cute or pitiful again and your blood will stain the snow red.

-His lips are always chapped to hell and back, sorry. Sharp kisses only for you.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv night watch #ithaqua x reader #idv ithaqua #turbulentscraw #almost yandere...

[s1k0zu]

Hey everyone,

While I was a bit (okay a lot) late to board the Austin train, once I did, I fell HARD. Before I saw him in Dune II, I knew about him, but never thought to take a second look.

Then I saw Dune and I still can't get Austin's performance out of my head. He was amazing! 😍

I've devoured everything I can find with him since then, and I've been reading a lot of fan fiction lately, and a scene has been playing on repeat in my mind, so I decided to write it down.

I love all the Feyd fics but I find myself wanting more of Austin and less of Feyd (he's just a bit too intense and I kinda miss the hair). So I came up with the idea below.

Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to try writing about something else. 🫣

Fair warning ⚠️ I've never written any fiction before, so this will probably be a mess...and it's maybe a bit too long.

🔞 It's pure smut, so minors stay away!

Under his skin

You and Austin have been together since before his Elvis movie.

You'd met when you were teenagers and became fast friends, but until you had to spend two weeks locked together in his apartment in Australia, because of the pandemic, that was all you were - friends.

You'd visited him for the weekend and then the lockdown forced you to stay.

The tension between the two of you had started escalating gradually, until one night he couldn't resist kissing you any longer. All it took was that one kiss and you were his forever.

You started getting jobs in the crew of all of his projects so you could stay together, which is why you're now in Budapest on the set of Dune II.

It's early morning and it's already as hot as hell. Add to that the giant sound box you've been setting up, so Austin can film his fight scenes in it later, and you're close to fainting.

You haven't seen Austin in two months, because he was busy training in L.A. and you were on location in Jordan with the rest of the cast.

You flew in with the night flight, dropped your bags at his place and went straight to set. He was already there, getting into costume, and you didn't have the time to see him.

Once you're done setting up and finally have some free time you head to his trailer to surprise him and wish him luck.

You open the door and cool air hits your face. Then you see him and you're sure the chill running down your body isn't from the AC.

He's gloriously naked, a black loincloth is all that covers his body. They've painted his torso with black lines and he's got his bald cap already in place. You've seen him in full costume before, but only in photos. This hits differently.

There's something feral and imposing about him and it's doing things to you. Gone is the sweet, gentle Austin you know and in his place is a man who exudes power and dominance.

His body is pure perfection and you know how hard he worked to get here.

"Hey, Earth to y/n. Are you ok?" Austin's voice comes through the fog.

"Yeah", you sigh, "It's just..."

"What?", he asks, a sly smirk forming on his lips.

"Let's just say if you weren't about to shoot, I'd be ruining your makeup right now", you say, raking your gaze over his gorgeous naked body.

"Fuck", he mutters and steps toward you, biting his lower lip, his eyes darkening with want.

"Ah, ah", you stop him, placing a hand on his chest, "makeup."

"Damn you woman! How am I supposed to focus now?", he asks brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"Hey, I'm not the one wearing next to nothing here," you tell him, "and you're not the only one having a hard time focusing."

You brush your lips against his and his hands instantly grip your face as he deepens the kiss. All the frustration of not being able to touch each other for the past two months melts as your tongues dance frantically, fighting for dominance.

"I'll make you a deal," you say, panting, "you go slay them with your talent and we can come back here during the lunch break, to finish this."

"Deal", he says huskily in your ear, melting you with his beautiful voice.

A crew member comes in to call him to set and breaks the tension before you two can go any further.

You watch him perform, always in awe of his ability to switch between himself and the character in seconds. You busy yourself with work and bringing him water bottles and towels between takes, and just like that the hours go by and it's time for lunch.

"I can't wait to take this thing off my head. I'm sweating like a pig," Austin says, taking a towel from your hands. He's been doing fighting scenes for the past hour and he's in full combat get up.

"I'll stick around to help with the set. Text me when you're done and we can take a shower," you say, walking your fingers playfully up his chest. You lean up to give him a quick kiss but he grabs your waist to keep you there, turning it into a steamy makeout session.

"I've missed you so much," Austin breathes out, his forehead touching yours.

"I've missed you too," you say, tilting his head lower to kiss his nose.

You disengage and he heads to his trailer so the makeup team can remove his bold cap.

A while later you get a text from Austin:

R u coming? We had a deal remember?

You mutter an excuse and head towards his trailer, willing yourself not to run.

#

When you enter, you see him running a hand through his wet hair, the bald cap gone. He still hasn't removed his costume.

"Want some help with that my lord", you ask, starting to unzip the back of his wetsuit.

When he hears you call him that Austin feels a shiver run down his body. He turns and wraps his arms around you.

"Say that again," he growls.

His eyes are dark with desire and you swear you can see Feyd still lurking in the background, ready to pounce.

"You should play the bad guy more often. It's a good look on you...my lord."

"Yeah? Wanna show me just how much you like it?"

You grip his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, and kiss him long and hard, your tongues fighting for dominance. You bite his lip when he pulls away and the groan that escapes from his throat sets your whole body on fire.

He returns the favour by placing kisses on your jaw and down your neck. When he reaches your collarbone he gives it a bite in just the right spot, making heat pool between your legs.

You lean into him, feeling his erection against you and bite his earlobe, whispering into his ear: "I want you inside me."

Austin's hands tighten on your ass and he gives you a smouldering look. His blue eyes are dark with desire as he dives in to kiss you again.

You start undressing each other frantically, hands running all over, tongues locked in a dizzying dance. The room fills with the sounds of heavy breathing, your moans, Austin's groans and wet kisses.

He grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the shower.

You're both panting while he turns around to fidget with the water tap. You admire his naked body while he adjusts the temperature. He's a work of art - all lean muscle chiselled to perfection.

Your eyes travel down his chest to the trail of hair under his belly button and between his thighs and the sizeable erection he's got. His penis is perfect: a round red tip, its length marbled by veins. You can't wait to taste it and feel it inside you.

You can't believe he's yours.

"My eyes are up here, gorgeous", Austin's amused voice brings you out of your dazed wet dream.

"And what a sight they are," you smile up at him.

After seeing you standing gloriously naked before him, raking your lust-filled stare over his body, Austin can't hold himself back any longer.

His hands come up to grab your face and he bends down to devour you. As the kiss deepens, Austin's hands travel down your body, lingering on your breasts. He pinches one of your nipples and you moan into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss to look at you.

Before you can answer he bends down and licks your neck, slowly descending to your left nipple.

"Fuck you're gorgeous. I can't wait to be inside you."

You start kissing his neck, his chest, his abs, your hands trailing down to his hips. His skin tastes salty from the sweat. You kneel in front of him and lick his length slowly, feeling the veins with your tongue. He lets out a groan and braces himself against the tiled wall.

You place tiny nibbles on the head, squeezing his balls, teasing him. He shudders in ecstasy as you swallow as much of his length as you can and start moving your head up and down slowly.

"Fuck, y/n, you have to stop or I'll come...," Austin pants on top of you. You speed up your pace, locking eyes with him.

Seeing you kneeling before him, your mouth on him, looking at him like that drives him over the edge. Austin comes with a groan and you feel his seed spill into your throat. You take him out of your mouth and give the head a little kiss.

"You taste so fucking good every time," you say standing up.

Austin grabs your cheeks and gives you a rough kiss.

"You have no idea how hot you look on your knees, do you?"

When one of his hands sneaks between your legs and he rubs his fingers on your clit you feel a jolt run over your whole body and you can't stop the moan coming out of your mouth.

Austin hears you moan, hands digging into his back and throws caution away - he bites down hard on your nipple, sliding his fingers into you.

"Fuck Austin", is all you can say, your mind going blank with pleasure. You don't know what's gotten into him, but you love this new, dangerous and dominant side he's showing you.

Austin places wet kisses and nibbles all over your breasts and stomach, pumping his fingers into you. You writhe in his arms, hands tugging his hair.

When his mouth descends on your clit you moan loudly. He bites it and then licks the sore spot, curling his fingers inside you. This sends jolts of electricity all over your body and you feel yourself coming, nails digging into his hair.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," he says, voice hoarse from lust. You can feel his hard length pressing against your entrance.

Austin groans in pleasure when he hears you moan his name, the pain from your nails digging into his scalp sending bolts of pleasure straight to his groin.

He gets up, grabs your hips and lifts you, your back against the tiled wall.

You look at his soft, puffy lips and can't help kissing him again. Austin groans and slips his tongue into your mouth, making you dizzy.

When he finally breaks the kiss to look at you, you see the passion burning in his eyes, but there's something else there too - something feral. You realise he hasn't shaken Feyd off completely.

That sparks something in you, emboldens you.

"Have your way with me, my lord na-Baron. I'm all yours", you say, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling on it, your hips bucking into him.

Hearing you say that, something in Austin snaps. He can't think anymore, all he knows is that he wants to be inside you, now.

With a quiet growl he bends down to crash his lips into yours, sliding into you in one swift move.

You can't help the cry that comes out of your mouth when he slams into you. You were already wet, but he's big.

The sharp pain quickly turns into intense pleasure as he starts thrusting into you with abandon. You can feel every vein on his hard length as he's stretching you and filling you in the best way.

You've been together for years and every time he enters you feels like the first time. It's like your bodies are pieces of the same puzzle. The feel of him inside you is divine.

Austin doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size, he couldn't even if he wanted to. He's possessed by the desire to be inside you, to own you. He picks up his pace, slamming into you, his teeth leaving red marks all over your neck and shoulders. His left hand is moulded to your thigh, his right squeezing your breast.

You've never seen him like this, so forceful and primal, and you realise you love it. As the pain shoots through the pleasure you find yourself coming, trying not to scream. You mould your lips to Austin's to stifle your moans and that just spurs him on. He continues to slam into you, balls-deep, throughout your climax.

After a while, Austin comes to his senses and realises he's too rough, he's hurting you. Just as he slows down his pace, releasing you from his grip, he hears you say:

"No, don't hold back. I want you to lose control. Ravage me."

He looks into your eyes, making sure he didn't just imagine that, and sees only carnal desire and love there. He can't believe you're his.

"Fuck, I love you," he whispers.

You smile and bite his neck hard. The little control he'd managed to take back shatters. Austin slips out of you so he can turn you around, your back towards him, and slams back into you.

One of his hands travels to your neck and squeezes, the other goes to your nipple.

This angle helps him sink even deeper inside you. The sensation is almost too much and you feel the waves of another orgasm coming. Sex with Austin is always great but this is different. He's lost all control and given in to his desire, and you fucking love it.

Austin feels your walls clenching around him and he knows you're close. The hand around your throat tightens as he moves his other hand from your breast to your clit, running his fingers in agonisingly slow circles, and right before you come he inserts two fingers in.

The feeling of his fingers and his hard length inside you is too much and you trip over the edge, your whole body shaking. You claw at his neck and bury your fingers into his hair as he swallows your moans with a kiss when you both come.

You've never seen this side of him before. He's always so protective of you, so gentle. You realise he's been holding himself back, afraid to lose control and hurt you.

He looks at you apprehensively and you smile at him, tugging him close so you can wrap your hands around his neck and give him a slow, tender kiss.

For a while the only sounds in the shower are the running water and your heavy breathing as you're both coming down from your highs.

Eventually, Austin lets you go and eases out of you with a groan. Your legs are shaking as you lean onto the tile wall while he turns around to adjust the showerhead.

He melts into you, relieved you're okay.

You disengage and proceed with your shower, washing each other's hair and bodies, placing soft kisses here and there.

When you're done, Austin stops the water. He swaddles you in a huge fluffy towel, picks you up and carries you to the bed.

He lies next to you on his side, head propped up, facing you, tiny droplets of water running down his face and torso.

"I'm sorry", he says quietly, giving you a sad puppy look and caressing your face.

"For what? Giving me multiple orgasms?"

"No..." he laughs and then falls silent.

"I hurt you. I don't know what came over me."

"Not what, who. You've still got some of Feyd lurking in the background," you say a soft smile playing on your lips.

"That's not an excuse y/n. I should've stopped...I should've..." he trails off, looking remorseful.

"I don't know if you noticed Butler but I liked it. A lot", you lift his head so he can look at you.

"I'm not made of china you know. Promise me you'll stop holding back on me. This was fucking amazing."

"Yeah it was, wasn't it," he says, finally relaxing, "Okay, but on one condition: you promise to tell me if I cross the line."

"Deal," you say and mould your lips over his.

#austin butler #fiction #feyd x you #austin x reader #smut #austin butler smut #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #first time writer #fanfic

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for going on a trip with one of my best friends without telling my other one?

Basically, my friend group is a trio (all 16F) and we have pretty strong relationships in pairs as well as altogether, so leaving someone out has never been an issue. A couple weeks ago, however, my friend B sent me an aesthetic tiktok captioned something along the lines of "POV: you're a passenger princess on a road trip to the mountains in fall". The main reason she sent this to me was because she has her license but I don't, so I often end up hitching a ride from her (her passenger seat is pretty much just my seat by now). I half-jokingly suggested that we make the tiktok a reality, in the way you do when you want to make extravagant plans with someone, even though they realistically won't happen.

I'm in pretty big trouble with my mom right now, so I haven't been able to hang out with my friends in a few months without lying and saying it was a study session. Because of that, I'd just assumed she'd say no and these plans would die out. Despite that, B and I entertained our delusions a little bit and made a vague plan of the whole trip. Her parents said yes, so it really just came down to my mom. The plans started looking more and more possible, and we started getting more invested in it, and even started mentioning it to a few teachers when prompted.

The problem really came when the larger friend group was talking about weekend plans at lunch the other day. B asked a vague question about driving up mountains, which was when we both realized that our joking plans had become a little too real and didn't include our other best friend, M. Why not just bring her along, you ask? Because it's illegal, and I like not being in jail. B only has her provisional license, meaning she can only drive 1 person that's not family (that person being me). The trip was only going to be a day long, and was supposed to be a chance for the two of us to get away from our families and just enjoy some alone time with nature and each other, but now it's making me feel really guilty. We still haven't told M.

I asked my mom, fully expecting a "no, go do your homework", but she said yes? On the condition that I spend the entire rest of the week doing homework, but it was still a yes, which I barely get from her nowadays. I don't want to purposefully exclude M because I love her so much, but I don't want to waste this chance to get out of my house. I know that if M found out, she'd be really hurt, so we're planning on just not mentioning the trip to any of our friends (B already mentioned it and the whole group knows she's going to the mountains, so currently the plan is to just have B post photos without me in them and have me be completely silent about it).

Even though I'm not doing it maliciously, I know that it's still exclusionary and I'm worried that I'm falling into the typical high school girl stereotype by making plans behind my friend's back. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[mymarifae]

I'm starting to like akito more can you write something about him or give akito images to speed up my obsession

okay!

when it comes to understanding akito, you really don't need much. just this lyric from kashika:

like, the kid's been through some shit, right? both in terms of external forces he had no control over and shit he's inflicted on himself. he grew up in a... very difficult household, and while it doesn't seem like shinei goes after him the same way he goes after ena, there's only so many times you can hear your father tell your big sister that she should give up on the thing she loves most because she'll never succeed and she'll never be as good as anyone with "real" talent before you start internalizing that sort of thinking for yourself. this is (part of) why we see him quit soccer the way he did.

and then later, when he first started getting into music and the community of vivid street, he was bullied and hazed by musicians much older than him. he was laughed at everywhere he went, and everyone kept telling him that he should just give up - that he would never be good enough to fit in, much less surpass rad weekend. and you'd think with how quickly he threw in the towel over soccer and all the shit he's internalized thanks to sh*nei this would have been too much for him, but here's the thing!!

soccer wasn't exactly an ultimate passion for him. he just kind of had (has; he does still really enjoy soccer) fun playing and he was decent at it so he figured this must be his Thing. what he will pursue for the rest of his life. there's a few reasons why he quit so abruptly. part of it is because in the minutes after losing that one game, he fully understood what his father meant. he saw the gap between himself - a completely average kid who just played for fun - and these other players who dedicated their lives to soccer, and it overwhelmed him. he knew would never be able to keep up with people like that. and with that, we're starting to get into the other reasons why he quit.

he felt like he wasn't passionate enough. while other people lived and breathed soccer, he was out on the field just "having fun" and making a total mockery of their dreams. he didn't deserve to play. not if all he was going to do was play like some dumb kid. (super healthy mindset for a 10 year old to have, right? A+ parenting, shinei. but keep following this line of thinking and you'll see why he blew up at kohane in the main story.)

we can deduce that after quitting soccer akito was pretty depressed. it would be hard not to be! he just quit doing something he enjoyed and lost the majority of the friends he had at the time as a result. and also he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing with his life. because shinei has pushed this idea of needing to "succeed" at something in order for life to have any meaning at all onto him and ena. seeing ena and other kids his age find their niches early on probably didn't help either. it probably made him feel like there was something wrong with him for not knowing what he wanted to do with his life (at 10 years old. really spectacular job you've done here, shinei!!!!)

and then he ended up at that concert at the summer festival with ena, and she encouraged him to give music a try. and that really, really turned things around for him. even before he wandered into rad weekend, music was slowly becoming something he loved. way more than he ever loved soccer. despite being met with rejection and cruelty, he wasn't exactly keen on letting this dream go. he found something that he could call his. he didn't want to go back to a directionless existence.

and yeah, he was well aware of the gap between him and every other musician on vivid street. how could he not be? he knew he was never going to be on their level. he knew he didn't have any sort of natural gift for singing or an innate understanding of pitch or music theory or anything else. he was going to have to brute force his way through all of this, and he was going to face a lot more humiliation and bullying as he did. and maybe by stubbornly clinging to music he was directly contradicting his own beliefs about passion and talent and dreams, but that's the thing about akito!

he's made up of contradictions. truly i don't think we're ever going to get an event song that encapsulates him as well as kashika did because it's the only song that's really tackled this aspect of his character. he loves music, and he doesn't believe he's worthy of pursuing it. but he doesn't want to give up, because he loves it so, so, so, so much. but yes he does want to give up - why do you think his fragment sekai gave him amnesia? in so many ways his life has become so much more difficult since he decided to pursue music and this dream of surpassing rad weekend, and a part of him wishes he had never gone down this path. it would have been so much easier to just drift along, wouldn't it? and after discovering the truth of rad weekend, that part of him got a little louder. for the first time really since vivid bad squad formed, he wanted to give up; he regretted not doing so sooner and dedicating so much of his life to this. he could have spared himself a lot of pain. but he still loves music so much... like an idiot, really. as painful as it can get, giving up feels unfathomable - even though it's so, so tempting. the mini amnesia episode and the sandstorm he has to pass through to get his memories back is a reflection of this inner turmoil.

when akito truly loves something, he loves it. his love is all-encompassing and fierce. he loves music. he loves vivid bad squad. he loves vivid street. he loves life. it's this love that pushes him through all those feelings of wanting to lay down and die. he is equal parts despair and hope. he is despair because he believes himself to be inherently inadequate in everything he does, and he is hope because he's stubborn and foolhardy enough to hope that if he keeps trying he might be able to overcome this inadequacy somehow. it's this tug-and-pull of these contradictions that's kept him going. this is something that even ken has acknowledged! if akito didn't have this unique way of knocking himself down only to pull himself back up a little higher each time, he wouldn't have gotten as far as he did.

but that leads us into burn my soul, where we see akito beginning to let go of this. what has kept him going for so many years is no longer serving him. he has a strong support system now and he has developed a real skill for singing and performing, so his previous coping mechanisms have turned into chains. if he wants to keep growing, he needs to start singing from the love in his heart instead of that wild, desperate hope.

it's really incredible to see him realize this - to see how bright he shines when he believes in himself. his passion is contagious. rad weekend and vivid street gave him new life when he had all but lost his, and now he's come full circle and is giving back to vivid street that same life. passion. joy. love.

this is why i love akito so much. i'm always drawn to characters made up of love. like, the above paragraphs aside, akito's really got a big heart, you know? he loves vivid bad squad so much it's ridiculous. you can see it in the way his gruffness goes soft around the edges around them, and his protectiveness over them. he really loves his friends outside of vbs too - kotaro and mizuki being the most notable examples. he loves his big sister. he loves ken, the father he wishes he always had but at least he has him now. he loves the virtual singers. he said meiko could put carrots in her dishes and he'd still eat them. he is amazingly tolerant of rin and len's hyperactive shenanigans when you consider how grouchy and irritable he is any other time. he is truly such a sweetheart.

his favorite foods are desserts and he likes his coffee as sweet as possible but he gets embarrassed ordering it this way in front of others. he gets the biggest goofiest happiest smile on his face when he eats pancakes. he's scared of even teeny tiny chihuahuas. he's physically affectionate - it's hard to get this across with the live2d models but we see their attempts at trying to show him slinging his arm around toya's shoulders. and he is literally constantly leaning on toya in just about every official art they're together in. he hates carrots with the ferocity of a spoiled toddler.

he likes hoodies and jackets that cover most of his hands. he once gave mizuki his lunch because he noticed she didn't have anything to eat. he sings and talks in his sleep. i cannot stress enough how adorable that is. he shields kohane from the wind so she can safely change her contacts. he pretends to be scared when luka jumps out at him from alleys because he didn't react once and she was sad. he teaches len how to play soccer. he lets ena drag him to the mall and just about everywhere else and even though he complains he could very easily refuse her if he actually didn't want to spend time with her.

he purposefully deepens his voice when talking so he seems cooler. he has the most blushing live2d models out of all the "boys." he gets flustered so easily it's so funny. he's very, very bad at math. despite the fits he used to throw at the start of the game, he now seems to carry toya's mountains of arcade plushies for him. he hates doing anything "cutesy" but unfortunately for him he is very cute. he's so special and i love him dearly

#he makes me so happy he's my little guy... *punts him like a football* #project sekai #akito shinonome #mailbox #thanks for asking :) i love talking about prsk so much UGH

[teeth-n-ambitions]

Yours (pt 2)

So I have been able to start the rewrite, and I'm already liking it better. But I'm busy this weekend so I'll give y'all more of the original. I'll post the new piece once I've finished it :D

@deluxewhump @whumpyourdamnpears

Part 1

TW: blood, nudity, vampire whump, lady whump, possesive whumper, manipulation, slight dubcon, hitting(?)

Rules were set rather quickly, which Lila was given the luxury to write down to help remember. Cassara had given her a small journal. She clung to it as if it held her very soul.

Some of them were explicit. No arguing, mind her manners, go only where instructed, etc. Others, however, Lila picked up on her own. Being present was one of them. Cassara couldn’t stand when she drifted off, especially during conversation. Honesty was another. Don’t say things just because that’s what she thinks Cassara wants to hear. Yet, confusingly, don’t say things she doesn’t want to hear. She had to want to please Cassara. Merely playing along wasn’t good enough. And then, of course, the touching. Lila was never, ever, to pull away from her. No matter how ridiculous or uncomfortable she felt, she had to allow it. Not even allow. Welcome it. She put those in her journal too.

But so far things had been…tame, in a sense. From how she acted that night, Lila was certain Cassara would bash her head in at the smallest mistake, yet in reality the worst she got was a reminder, or a look, maybe a smack on the hand. Still, it had only been a few days. There was much about the vampire she hadn’t learned yet. How she fed is what terrified Lila the most. She admitted she planned to bite her, but she hadn’t said anything about it since. It made Lila’s hair stand on end whenever a hand got too close to her throat.

Cassara’s insistence on carrying her everywhere didn’t help in the slightest. She didn’t want any unnecessary pressure on Lila’s healing ankle, which Lila appreciated, but that left her entirely vulnerable should Cassara decide she wanted something to eat.

“Lila.”

She jolted at her name.

“Yes?”

They sat on a large plush chair in the library, with room for Lila to lean against the back despite resting in Cassara’s lap. Cassara held a book, an arm curling around Lila to hold it, while Lila had been quietly journaling.

“I can hear your heart beating harder. What is it you’re writing that’s gotten you so worked up?”

“Oh, uh,” Lila pulled the journal into her chest, eyes on stiff knuckles. “It’s noth—”

“Let me see it.”

She kept a thumb between the pages, sucked in a breath when Cassara’s brushed against it to take the item from her. Knowing that she could hear her heart unfortunately just made it beat faster.

 “Hm.”

“What? What is it?”

“I’ve refrained from feeding from you in respect to your injury. You need as much strength and energy as possible for it to heal; draining you would only delay your recovery. However,” Both the journal and her book snapped shut in her hands simultaneously. “I suppose a taste wouldn’t hurt.” She deposited them beside her on the end table. “And then you won’t be so afraid of it anymore.” Lila’s pencil was plucked from her hands and placed with its companion. A dryness started in Lila’s throat.

“Okay.”

In her current position, little movement was necessary. Just her back flush to Cassara’s chest, and her head closer to the vampire’s shoulder. And those ghastly hands were back. One to support her head, and the other to sweep away the hair from her neck, fingertips just barely grazing her skin in a fashion that seemed to double as a caress. This purportedly loving build-up Cassara favored made Lila shiver and burn at the same time—she hated it. Why did everything have to be some kind of event or performance? Surely the whole ordeal would be easier to bear if she would just get it over with.

The one hand fell from her neck to the curve of her waist. There, at least, she had the fabric barrier of her clothing to keep her skin from reacting any further. She’d been wearing loose dresses for ease of access to her wounds and so there was less to interact with the bandaging. They were fine, albeit a bit long, but Cassara said she was ordering some things custom made. The way she liked to hold her there, Lila wondered if anything would have the sides cut out.

Another shiver coursed through her body with the press of Cassara’s lips just at the tip of her jaw, behind her ear. She should have anticipated the cold, what with the rest of Cassara’s body being so unnaturally chilled, but against her near feverish skin, she half expected steam to rise from beneath her lips.

“You need to relax, darling,” Cassara said, planting another soft kiss farther down her neck. “If you’re this tense I’ll hit a muscle and you’ll be sore. And I won’t have you associating me with pain.”

“I’m—I’m trying,” Lila managed. “But this, uh, this isn’t really helping.”

“It’s not?” Her brows knitted together. “You should be enjoying this.” Absentmindedly, her fingers drummed against Lila’s waist. To the surprise of them both, Lila let a small whine slip out at the sensation. Her hands flew to her face, mortified.

“Well that’s new…”  Cassara noted more to herself than to Lila. She let her hand experimentally slither up her side, astonished to hear Lila’s heart working even harder than it already was as soon as her thumb caught the side of her breast. Then it clicked.

“Oh!” She chuckled at her own ignorance. “You’re overstimulated, aren’t you? Is that it? Am I getting you too excited?”

Not how Lila would put it, not in the slightest, but she hummed in agreement anyway.

“You poor dear.” She clicked her tongue. “As adorable as that is, I really need you pacified for this. And I’d rather not have to sedate you every time I feed. But…” Her hand returned to Lila’s waist. “I will this once. Just enough to calm you down. But remember, this is an exception. You must be able to handle this in the future.”

“Okay.”

“Answer me correctly.”

“Yes, Cassara.”

And tension seeped out of Lila almost instantly. Not to where her body felt like lead, but rather as if she were close to falling asleep. Her mind felt similarly. She wasn’t tired, and she wasn’t absent, like she would be if drunken, but it was just as pleasant.

“That’s a good girl.” A kiss to her cheek. “Much quieter now.”

She was right. Lila’s heart was sinking back into its usual pattern. Cassara peppered a few kisses along her neck to make sure it would stay like that. She didn’t even shiver this time.

“Perfect.” Another kiss, this one slow over the target area. “Just stay like that for me, pet.”

Icicles punched into the meat of her neck, tearing through the layers of skin and flesh in a single stabbing motion, a brief yet violent sting that instantly made the surrounding skin tender. Blood pulsed out of her body in hot waves that clashed with the freezing mouth clamped around her neck. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from embarrassing herself any further.

Though it felt like an eternity, it ended mere minutes after that first puncture. Cassara’s tongue pressed against the wounds as soon as her fangs carefully retreated. It stayed there until the bleeding finally stopped, and she thankfully dried Lila’s neck of her saliva with the end of her sleeve. She rotated her in her grip so she was cradling her, Lila’s eyes landing on the faint flush of her cheeks, which she wasn’t aware was even possible.

“Goodness,” Cassara breathed. “You’ll have to heal up quickly. I haven’t had anything that dizzying in a while.” She exhaled. “Now that wasn’t so scary, was it?”

Lila didn’t remember crying, but there were tears pooling in her eyes, drying on her cheeks.

“No,” she squeaked. Cassara wiped Lila’s eyes with her knuckle.

“You were so good, my sweet. Such a good girl. But I won’t help you next time, remember? We’ll have to work on this little problem of yours.”

Either to make a point or just to tease her, Cassara dipped her head and kissed Lila maybe a bit too hard. Lila couldn’t get herself to move her lips, but, rest assured, she had enough blood still in her to race to her cheeks. Cassara giggled at the feeling.

Lila was going to be sick.

~~~

Truly there was no God. If there was, Lila would have been born with thorns jutting from her skin. She would have talons and venom that eroded through anything it touched. Instead she was small and fragile and useless. Her nails were blunt, her bones were broken, and her body was sheathed by unnaturally brawny arms that retained their unconquerable strength even when paralyzed by sleep. She’d punch herself if she could even move.

So this was why Cassara had her go to bed before she did herself. To trap her. To humiliate her. Lila had noticed her gradually inching closer to her each night, but thought it better not to acknowledge it. She thought the goal was to achieve closeness and leech the warmth from her body like the vampire she was. Of course this is what it became. Lila was so fucking stupid. She shouldn’t have woken up. She should have waited, let the monster wake first, let her be disappointed that Lila never noticed what she’d done. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Lucky for her, and likely to whatever cruel demon’s delight, her heaving chest caught Cassara’s attention. Her arms relaxed just the slightest as she stirred. Once open, her eyes fell to Lila’s head against her chest. And then she held her tighter.

“Well hello, my treasure,” she purred. “And how are we today?”

“I can’t breathe.” Lila’s voice was flat.

“Clearly you can, otherwise you wouldn’t be talking.”

Silence. She had Lila’s back to her, so she felt when her middle stopped moving beneath her arms. She unfolded them. Lila rolled a foot away.

“Darling?” Cassara pulled herself up onto her hands. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Lila sat up as well, moved to slide off the bed.

“I need to use the bathroom.” She pushed her hands into the edge in an attempt to stand.

“Hold on,” Cassara got out of bed to catch Lila by the elbows before she lost her balance. “You need more time before you can start walking.” Lila huffed, but let Cassara pick her up without complaint. “You know this.”

For a moment she studied her pet’s body language; head pointedly turned away, arms folded and hands in fists. Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re not menstruating, are you?” She brought her nose down to Lila’s neck. “You don’t smell any different.”

“No!” Lila squished her head into her shoulder, forcing Cassara off. Then, after a beat, “Can you actually smell that?” Cassara readjusted her in her arms and headed for the bathroom.

“Blood changes with these kinds of things. Smell, taste. Depends on the person’s body.” She thought for a second. “Maybe I should track that. Don’t want you making a mess of my sheets.” Lila elected to ignore that.

“Does it taste good? When it’s like that?”

“It’s a matter of preference. And typically a major factor regarding what sexes one feeds from. It’s partially why I tend to go for women. Though, no, blood from the start of the menstrual cycle is not my favorite.”

“Why else?” Cassara had the audacity to smirk down at her.

“Go ahead and look at yourself, love,” She teased. “That’s why.” Lila redirected her eyes again, Cassara laughing at how her lower lip puffed out, nose all scrunched up.

Lila got to do her business by herself, when they got there, one of the few things Cassara didn’t feel the need to supervise. This bathroom was small, anyway. Leaning on the wall made moving easy enough. The basin stand was there to hold onto as well. She was fine.

Except, staring down the bowl, hands clutching the stand’s edges, the overwhelming desire to shatter something came over her. How long had it been? Three weeks? A month? Her ankle had a ways to go before she could even think about walking again. Being tended to and pampered in this regard was a kindness she was certain she didn’t deserve, but the stolen autonomy that came with it was unbearable. Every action monitored, speech curbed, body held and crushed and bit without warning or consent. Treated like a child. A lapdog. A goddamned toy. Like she could drop dead and Cassara would just find a replacement without so much as a frown.

And that. She could feel it happening. It was creeping up on her, her giving a shit about what Cassara thought. She was beautiful, unfairly so. Lila wasn’t blind. But that didn’t make her good or trustworthy by default. And yet, and yet, the soft touches, the praise, the flagrant declarations of desire—it was getting to her. She was disgusted with herself for it. Was that all it took? A pretty face making her feel wanted? Making her feel loved?

It wasn’t love. She knew that. Of course she knew that. But fuck, she was starting to convince herself it was. There was nothing wrong or sick about wanting to be appreciated. Didn’t everyone, in some manner? She should have considered herself lucky for someone like Cassara to choose her. She should have been grateful that she took care of her, a pathetic coward of a person like her. She was thankless. She was degenerate.

“Lila?” A knock on the door. “Are you ill?”

She wished she was.

“I’m fine,” she answered through gritted teeth. “I’ll be right out.”

Lila wouldn’t look at Cassara when she emerged, or when she was swept off the ground again. Nor did she react when they eventually returned to the bed and stripped so Cassara could put something else on her. Instead she sat glaring into her lap. Cassara got herself dressed, picked out something for Lila, and came to put it on her. She let her, which was wonderful, but whatever was wrong evidently remained on Lila’s mind. Her flushed pouting was cute. This wasn’t.

“How about something to eat?” She offered. “Maybe you’re just cranky because you’re hungry.”

Cranky.

Sure, Lila thought. Let’s call it that. She actually was hungry, though, so she perked up some at that.

“Yes…please.” She’d almost forgotten that last part.

Cassara smiled and held Lila’s face in her hand, rubbed her thumb along her cheek, and sauntered out the room.

As she waited, she picked idly at a scab on her calf. Excluding her ankle, her wounds were almost healed completely. All that remained were, of course, some scabs (which Cassara tried her best to keep Lila from messing with) and a few little scars. Her splint was the only bandaging left. It might as well have been mocking her, the only thing keeping her from the tiniest semblance of dignity. She hated being carried like a fresh corpse. Also, her leg fell numb quite a bit. She hated that too.

“What did I tell you about that?” Cassara returned with a glass of water and a plate of assorted fruit. She handed Lila the glass and sat beside her, plate in her lap.

“Sorry,” Lila said. She knocked back the water like she wanted to get drunk off it. Cassara sighed.

“You don’t want any more scars do you darling?” Lila shook her head and put the now empty glass on the ground. “Then stop messing with it. Here.” She plucked a grape from the plate, held it out in her hand. Lila reached to take it.

“Thank y—”

“Ah, ah.” Cassara drew her hand back. “Pets don’t eat with their hands.” Put her hand back out. “Try again.”

Lila’s eyes flicked to Cassara, then the grape, then Cassara again.

“You’re joking.”  

 “I can assure you that I am not.”

Lila turned up her nose and crossed her arms.

“I’m not doing that.”

“Then you’re not eating.”

“Really?” Lila scoffed. “What does it matter to you?” Cassara’s lips twitched.

“A friend of mine trained her pet to eat from her hand and I thought it was cute. And, in case you’ve forgotten,” With more force than grace, she slipped her hand under Lila’s dress and shot it up to her thigh, making a point of squeezing just where it connected to her torso. “You still haven’t learned to control yourself when I touch you.” She leaned into Lila’s space. “Exposure will fix that.”

And of course Lila’s traitor body had to gasp at the contact. Make the blood flow exclusively to her face. Worst of all, despite the dragon circling in her chest, a part of her liked it. It wanted the cold fingers to run all the way up her side to her head and move against her scalp. To cradle her face and pull her into a kiss that made everything disappear, just for a moment. To just let herself enjoy it. The rest of her wanted that part dead.

“Come on sweet,” The grape was brought to her mouth. “Please eat something.”

She bit Cassara’s hand.

“Lila!” It didn’t hurt her, but she jerked back anyway. “I have no idea what has gotten into you, but I’m beginning to tire of your attitude.”

“Oh yeah?” Lila laughed bitterly. “Then you’ll fucking hate this.”

She summoned as much saliva as she could muster, and spat directly in Cassara’s face. Her stomach dropped instantly.

“Cassara I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry.”

The vampire had gone stock still. Slowly, she lifted her sleeve to her face and wiped it clean.

“Cassara?”

Standing up, the plate was put on the vanity, and she wordlessly left the room. Proceeding the buzz of the empty room came a heavy clanging paired with scraping against stone. When the door flew open, Cassara dragged a chain behind her.

“I have done nothing but cater to you.” She took Lila by the neck and locked a metal collar around it. “I care for your injuries. I keep you clean. I keep you comfortable.” Lila scrambled to get further up the bed, only to be snatched by the waist. “I let you sleep in my bed.” Thrown over Cassara’s shoulder. “Wear my clothes.” The chain dangled from Lila’s neck, trailing behind Cassara as she left the room.

“I have been kind, I have been gentle. All I have done is love you.”

She wanted to scream, or bang her fists on Cassara’s back, or kick, anything. It was as if every one of her muscles locked themselves in place.

“But maybe I’ve been spoiling you too much.”

Cold slammed into her upon opening the manor doors to the night air. She barely registered the statues on either side of the walkway, or the benches within the tall iron fence; her dizzied head had her seeing spots instead.

“You want to act like an animal? Fine. I’ll treat you like an animal.”

The gate arched, adorned with spikes matching the rest of the fence, emitting a loud, drawn out, eerie groan when pushed open.

“Because apparently,” Cassara went around the right half of the gate. “The only difference between you,” Slid Lila off her back and onto the dirt. “And the mutts out here,” Latched the end of the chain around one of the iron beams. “Is that you talk back.”

She went back around the gate and closed it behind her, making a point of locking it.

“I’ll come for you when I’m ready to deal with you again.” The smile she flashed Lila hadn’t even the faintest glimmer of mirth. “Maybe you’ll still be alive by then.”

As she turned back down the walkway, Lila’s body was suddenly under her control again. She hustled onto her knees and gripped the bars. She called after the rapidly shrinking form.

“Cassara I’m sorry! I’ll be good from now on, I promise!”

She didn’t even look back at her.

“Cassara! Cassara please! Please don’t leave me here!”

The doors opened.

“Please!”

And Cassara slipped back inside. Lila was alone.

Rustling from behind her had her whip around and scan the darkness. Cassara had been right—not a single speck of moonlight showed face. Even directly in her face, her own hands were invisible to her. No silhouette. How was it darker than inside? Even without candlelight, she could see her immediate surroundings well enough. This? This couldn’t be natural. Could it?

The bars dug into her back as a gust of wind shook the forest ceiling, skin prickling, teeth threatening to chatter. She pulled her dress over her knees and hugged them into her chest. Swarming with vampires. Were there any near enough to hear her ragged breath? Or the pulse in her ears? Could they smell her? Did misery have a scent? It couldn’t. She hoped upon hope that it didn’t.

Other things lived there too, none of which Cassara told her about. Excluding the wolves, she hadn’t even named anything that could be waiting for her. Or, rather, coming for her. What things lived in the dark?

Her eyes darted in every direction they could. Somewhere off to the side, something snapped twigs in half.

From the back of her mind, an image appeared of a thin, antlered creature, nearly all bones and an empty, soulless glare. Was this something real, or from a story she’d been told once? That would live in the dark.

And what of demons? Were those real? They could appear as anything. An owl, a snake, an insect.

Tears rolled over her quivering lips and dripped from her chin. What if they were in cahoots with each other? Vampire drains her, other monstrosity rips out her insides, demon takes hold of her emptied body. She’d be aware for all of it. Her screams would draw more in. She would be maimed. Mangled beyond recognition. And her stupid whimpering was only going to make it happen faster.

Was something taking shape in the distance? Was it coming closer? Oh god, she was about to die. She was about to die. She was about to die. She—

Light shone behind her.

“Cassara!” She cried, fumbling to turn around. “I’m so fucking sorry. Please take me inside. Please, please, please, pleas—”

“Hush.” Cassara refused eye contact all the way down to the gate, walked a few inches around Lila to unhook her from the fence. Lila reached out for her, waiting to be picked up, her entire body trembling.

“Knees,” Cassara ordered. She didn’t wait for Lila to figure out what she meant before walking back around the gate, chain in hand, but she understood as it tugged on her neck. She adjusted her dress so she could crawl without interference.

They went like that all the way back to the manor, through the foyer, down some halls, and into a room Lila had never seen before. It was small, almost entirely empty, save for several varying items hanging up together at the back wall. Cassara dropped the chain unceremoniously and made for the wall.

“Take it off,” she said, not even turning around. She observed the tools, tapping her chin, other hand on her hip.

“Cassara?”

“Now.”

Lila lifted her dress over her head the fastest she could, pulled the chain through the neck, and put it in a pile beside her. She sat back on her legs and covered her chest with her arms. Cassara had a fire poker when she turned around.

“You know I don’t want to do this,” As she approached she slapped the poker into her palm. “But if I don’t punish you, you’ll never learn.”

“But—but I thought—I thought you didn’t want—You don’t want me to associate you with—with pain?”

“Oh, I’m not the one hurting you.” Her towering form cast a shadow over Lila’s colorless face. “This is a direct result of your own actions. The only thing causing you pain is your disobedience. Get onto your hands and arch your back. If it falls you go back outside. Understand?”

Lila did so immediately.

“Yes, Cassara,” she answered. “I understand.”

“Good. Now,” Cassara slowly circled her. “What are you?”

“Bad?” The fire poker crashed into Lila’s spine and cracked against her skin, the numbing sting bringing tears back to her eyes. But she grit her teeth and kept quiet.

“Try again.”

“Uh…human?”

Another lash across the first.

“Starts with a P.”

…Oh.

“Pet? I’m a pet?”

“You are.” Cassara continued her orbit. “Who’s pet are you?”

“Yours.”

Lila shuddered with the third hit.

“My what? You’re my what?”

A puddle was growing beneath Lila’s face.

“I’m your pet.”

“Who do you belong to?” Lila sniffed, earning her another smack. “Who do you belong to?”

“You. I belong to you, Cassara. I’m your pet and I belong to you.”

“That’s right. Why are you being punished right now?”

This time she gave her two quick hits, one after the other, just for emphasis. Lila’s form faltered for a moment.

“You’re punishi—” This one came down harder than the others. She couldn’t even try to hold back the cry that wrestled out of her throat.

“Wrong. Why are you being punished and who’s hurting you?”

“I am.” Her arms were wobbling. “I’m being punished for being a bad pet and it’s hurting me. I’m hurting myself.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to you.”

“What of you belongs to me?”

“Ev—” A sob. “Everything.”

“What are you?”

“Your pet.”

“What can I do with my pet?”

“Anything you want.”

“Say it again.”

“I’m your pet and you can do anything you want with me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I belong to you.”

Lila jumped when the fire poker clattered to the ground behind her. Her back was on fire, her muscles barely holding up, her head shaking as she openly wept. Cassara gracefully knelt before her.

“What are you?” Lila’s heart leapt at Cassara’s voice, finally as soft as she was used to. But she kept form, just in case.

“I’m your pet, Cassara.”

Cassara reached behind her neck and opened the collar, tossed it aside, slid her hand to Lila’s cheek. Lila leaned into it, sighing.

“Who do you belong to?” She lifted her head, marveling at the shimmering tears painting Lila’s beautiful face.

“I belong to you.”

Lila’s breathing was steadying, cries reduced to whimpers. Cassara wiped her face dry.

“What can I do with you?”

“You can do anything you want with me.”

The soft hands retreated, Lila whining at the loss of contact, and Cassara shifted to sit with her legs crossed. She smiled.

“Lila,” she murmured. “Would you like me to touch you?”

“Please,” Lila croaked.

“Use your words, darling. Ask me nicely.”

It hurt to swallow the lump in her throat. That last bit of pride.

“Please,” she begged. “Cassara please touch me. Please touch me, Cassara. Please.”

And with that, she opened her arms, her face the warmest it’d ever been.

“Come here, pet.”

Every ounce of stress dropped from Lila’s body at the words, her back falling, muscles heavy as she scuttled to Cassara. She had Lila straddle her lap and enveloped her in her arms. A hand pet her hair while the other rubbed her back. Lila wrapped her arms around Cassara’s neck, never wanting to let go.

“What are you?” Cassara whispered.

“I’m your pet, Cassara. I belong to you.”

From her back the hand slid to her waist.

“What can I do with my pet?”

“You can do anything you want with me.”

The other pried her arms from Cassara’s neck, pulled her so they faced each other, reached to hold her face.

“What are you, precious?” Lila put her hand over the one on her cheek.

“I’m your pet and I belong to you.”

Cassara rubbed her thumb at Lila’s waist, her other hand threading through her hair to the back of her head. She kissed her flushed cheek.

“What of you belongs to me?” Kissed her neck.

“Everything. Inside and out. I’m yours. Everything is yours.”

Her hand ran up and down her side.

“What can I do with you?” Kisses along her collarbone.

“Anything you want. Everything you want.”

Cassara kissed her nose, her forehead, the shells of her ears, the bags under her eyes, her shoulders, just above her chest.

“What is your job, morsel?”

She kissed underneath her jaw.

“To be good and do whatever my lady wishes.”

The closest thing to fire burst to life in Cassara’s chest, flowing through her monstrous veins and lighting her entire body aflame. She yanked Lila’s head to her own, nails digging into her waist, and kissed her as hard as she could. Lila melted right into it and snaked her arms back around Cassara’s neck.

That one part of her was losing its goddamn mind. Finally, finally, she let go and allowed Cassara to do just what she wanted. She loved Lila. She wanted Lila to be happy. To feel good. Lila just had to listen. Do what she was told. Why was that so hard for her? Wasn’t this so much better?

Cassara’s hand glided from her waist up her side, making Lila gasp when she squeezed a breast. She was soft. Her pet was so warm and soft. Cassara was a fucking genius.

A deep, deep loathing hardened in the pit of Lila’s stomach. She was wretched. Abhorrent. If there was a Hell, then she was sprinting right towards it. But Cassara was running her hands over her and kissing her breathless and she didn’t care. This was good. She would be good. She was going to be good if it killed her.

#whump #lady whump #vampire whump #possessive whumper #thank you for the support so far!!!

[withahappyrefrain]

okokok I’ve been thinking. I’m such a slut for pregnancy reveals with peter because UGH my heart but imagine taking the test with peter in the room with you and you wait together and see the second line at the same time and-

What better way to celebrate Peter's birthday weekend by giving him the family he deserves!

Warnings: detailed talk of pregnancy, reproductive organs, language, allusion to sex. Peter being the purest of hearts but dumbest of ass.

One's thirtieth birthday was supposed to be exciting. It was a new era. A reminder that despite all the shit you went through, you made it to the other side.

Which was why you wanted to give your boyfriend the best thirtieth birthday ever. It was what Peter deserved.

But a stupid app decided against that.

Why did you even download a period tracking app in the first place? They were most likely selling your data to third party companies.

And yet, that notification that notified you that you were fourteen days late for your period woke you right up.

Fourteen days. Two weeks.

Two whole weeks since you should have bled. But you hadn't.

Why today?

The implication was so huge, so life-changing that you weren't sure you could wait until tomorrow. After all, you and Peter had reservations for dinner and it would look highly suspicious if you didn't order any wine.

Getting pregnancy tests via Door Dash was a thing now. Maybe you could convince him to stay in and-

"Bug! We gotta read- are you okay?"

Oh fuck.

You and Peter had been dating for years. Combine that with his "Spidey sense", he knew when something was wrong.

That didn't mean it would stop you from trying.

"Yeah! It's just uh....did you see who the Yankees traded?! Unbelievable, right?"

Peter looked at you, confused, "Bug, you hate baseball."

Damn it.

Peter sat down on the bed next to you. His large hand rested on your thigh, his thumb gently stroking your soft skin..

"Bug, what's wrong?" Peter's voice was soft and reassuring, which normally you loved because it made you feel as if you could tell him anything.

Right now, that's not what you wanted. You wanted him to be selfish. To focus on his own birthday. To say that whatever was going on, could wait until tomorrow.

But he wouldn't because that wasn't Peter Parker.

Nor was it Peter Parker to agree to wait to talk about tomorrow.

Which left you to muster all the courage in your body to face your boyfriend.

"I'm......Peter, I'm late." Your voice was small and you avoided those honey glazed eyes.

Peter chuckled, "Bug, if you forgot you scheduled an appointment today, it's okay."

Oh vey. For someone who graduated at the top of his class, Peter could be dense.

"Peter, I'm not late for an appointment." You motioned to the lower half of your body, praying that would be enough. The thought of saying it out loud would confirm that this wasn't a dream.

It was.

Peter's eyes widened and his mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. The tension was so thick, you were pretty positive you could cut it with a knife.

"Um....are you sure? It's not, it's not that I don't believe you! You're just pretty g-good about taking your-"

Normally you were. Except for four weeks ago, when Peter had disappeared for three days and you weren't sure if he was alive. You couldn't recall if you ate two full meals during those days, much less take all your medication.

Peter came back, bloodied and bruised. Something to do with Chameleon. You didn't care what happened, as long as Peter was back and safe in your arms.

Both yours and Peter's faces heated up as you remembered how you two spent that reunion, after washing and cleaning up. It was spent in between the sheets for many hours.

"I guess....that makes sense," Peter commented, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah," was all you could say. The timing tracked, there was no denying it.

"Sh-should we....test?" Peter suggested.

"Can't you use your Spidey-sense to tell?" You asked. Peter had been able to tell your cousin was pregnant due to his ability to hear the second heartbeat. Of course, it became quite awkward at the dinner table when Peter asked how far along she was and she had yet to tell anyone else in the family.....

Peter rolled his eyes, "Bug, I can only hear a heartbeat if it's already formed. Which doesn't happen until you're like seven weeks along."

You groaned, burring your head into your hands, "We're supposed to be going on a picnic to celebrate your birthday, not going to the Bodega for Joe to silently judge us for buying a bunch of pregnancy tests."

Peter's arms wrapped around your body, pulling you into his chest. You felt even more ridiculous. Here you were, sitting in bed, whining, when it was his birthday that you were ruining.

"I told you that for my birthday, I just want to spend the day with you. This is something we need to figure out sooner rather than later. Preferably before our dinner reservation since you kinda need to know if you can drink wine or not."

Peter's lips brushed against your forehead. You nodded, though it still didn't make you feel any better.

"Hey bug, look at me." You titled your head up, your eyes meeting his.

"I still love you, no matter what," Peter said before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"I'm scared," you admitted. The idea of having a child with Peter wasn't something you were against. In fact, you dreamed about it often.

But in your dreams, there was a gold ring on your left hand and you two had already brought a house.

"I'm right here with ya bug." For the next few minutes, you curled into his body, his heartbeat calming the storm of emotions you were experiencing.

"Alright, let's get this over with," you sighed.

----------

Six pregnancy tests, two bottles of water, and one very judgemental look from Joe later, you and Peter were sitting on the couch.

You checked the timer on your phone. Fifteen minutes.

In fifteen minutes, you and Peter would learn if your uterus had a twisted sense of humor or if it was preparing to carry a whole human.

"I'm sorry," your voice, wracked with guilt, broke the silence.

Peter looked up from the pregnancy test box, an eyebrow quirked, "For what?"

You sighed, "Everything. Not remembering to take the one thing that prevents this from happening. Not realizing this before or after your birthday. Not remembering-"

Peter shook his head as he moved to the couch, sitting next to you. God, you couldn't even look at him.

"And please don't say it's fine because this is definitely not how you or I planned for this scenario to go," you interjected before he could say anything.

Peter simply nodded his head, bringing a hand to lay on your back.

"Look, whatever happens....if you are...."

"Pregnant?" Saying the word felt both relieving and terrifying.

"Yes, it's.....it's your body, so it's your decision. I'll support you no matter what."

It was the first time you dared to think about your options if that little test showed two blue lines.

"What....what do you want to do?" You whispered.

Peter shook his head, "it's not up to-"

"I know Peter. But what would you like?" You could see he was deep in thought over your question.

"It's not exactly the order of events I wanted and yeah it won't be easy," a small smile appeared on his face, "But there's no one else I'd rather have kids with. I'd....I'd love to be able to call you the mother of my child."

You could feel tears swelling in your eyes. Whether it was due to the events of today, your love for Peter, or potential pregnancy hormones, it didn't matter.

"I would...I want to have a baby with you." Peter smiled before cupping your face with his hands, pressing his lips against yours.

You were still scared shitless over the high probability that you could be pregnant. But knowing, getting confirmation that you weren't going to lose Peter, that he wanted to stay and be a parent with you-

It was comforting.

Peter broke away for air, his fingers still gently stroking your cheeks, "Is.....is now a good time to tell ya that next week I planned to pick up a ring from the jeweler?"

Your eyes widened and you're pretty certain your heart skipped a beat, "Peter Benjamin Parker, I swear to God if you're only saying that because I might be-"

"I already refer to you as my wife when I talk about you to other people and you think I would only pick up a ring because you might be pregnant?"

"Really?" Your voice was small again and for the first time since you woke up this morning, your heart felt like it was going to burst with happiness, not anxiety.

"Yes, really. I love you and there's no one else I'd rather spend my life with. When I was gone for those few days.....all I could think about was you and getting back to you. Figured that was a pretty good indicator that I wanted to marry you," the tips of his ears were turning red, the action reminding you of when you kissed him on the first date.

"Well good, because there's no one else I'd rather wait thirty minutes with to see what a stick says after I peed on it," Peter joined in on your laughter, the tension and anxiety melting away for the most part.

His eyes darted to the empty pregnancy test box on the coffee table. He picked it up, reading the directions.

"Oh," you heard him mutter.

"What do you mean 'oh'?" You asked. It wasn't the 'oh' one let out after realizing they were in love. It was the 'oh' you let out when you realized you had done something wrong.

"Uh....it says results in three minutes, not thirty," Peter muttered, refusing to look you in the eyes.

"Three minutes?!" Your neighbors definitely heard that (which was probably a nice change considering they usually heard you moaning).

"How the hell do you mix up three and thirty Peter?!"

Peter threw his hands up, as if he was getting ready to physically defend himself, "I saw the three and just assumed- I don't know how long these things take! Usually it takes them like thirty minutes to figure out if you have step!"

You rolled your eyes, "Yes, because strep throat and being pregnant are so similar."

A crimson shade took over Peter's face, "Should we....should we go check?"

"No, I was just thinking we leave it there and go get ice cream," You deadpanned.

"You're lucky you might be pregnant, otherwise I'd pick you up and toss you onto the other couch." Peter responded, his tone matching yours.

You laughed and for a moment, you felt fine. Then reality sunk in. In that little bathroom, were the results that would either keep things as is, or change your life forever.

The realization set in for Peter, who began to fidget with the empty box.

"Should w-we-"

"Yeah," you stood up, holding out your hand.

The scared shitless dread still lingered over you, but when Peter grabbed your hand, a new feeling emerged.

It was cautious, but hopeful. There's still a chance this could all go to hell in a hand basket.

But there was also a chance this would turn out alright. Better than alright.

Maybe that's what being an adult felt like? You didn't know everything to do next, should a certain result occur, but, you had a starting point, enough understanding to not make you want to run away and hide.

Who knows.

You two stopped at the bathroom, the door closed so you wouldn't be tempted to run in too early.

"Whatever happens," you paused, "I love you Peter."

"I love you too bug," a mischievous gleam twinkled in his eyes, "Is this your way of telling me there's not enough room on the door and I have to push you in freezing cold water."

You playfully rolled your eyes, "They tried and it kept flipping over!"

"I have a master's in geophysics, it was possible-"

"Jack and Rose were in an incredibly traumatic situation and had entered the early stages of hypothermia! They couldn't think about physics in a time-"

"You know, one day we can show our kid that movie and they can be the tie breaker," Peter observed.

Yeah, that was something you could do.

"Though, not until they're older. They do show tits in that film," you reminded him.

He winced "Yeah.......what would be the appropriate age? I feel like middle school is too young and-"

You chuckled, "Why don't we find out first if we're having a child right now."

Peter smiled sheepishly, "Yeah, guess we should do that first."

Your eyes darted to the sink. It felt like you were deep in a haze. Was this really happening?? Was it possible that this was somehow a long, hyper-realistic dream?

The pressure you felt as Peter's hand squeezed yours signaled that was real.

"We're having a baby," you heard him whisper, his voice full of pleased wonder.

"Yeah," a smile slowly spread onto your face, "We're having a baby. Happy birthday Peter."

"Best gift I've ever gotten," was all he could get out before you grabbed onto his shirt, pulling his lips towards yours.

#peter parker #my writing #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #andrew!peter fanfiction #andrew!peter x you #andrew!peter imagine #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter fluff

[riostwsty]

>> "Patching things up" << [ series preview ]

Summary: As careful as some of these boys may be, everyone gets hurt once in a while. And you just so happened to be around at the time to offer some help.

Key words: Scenarios, romantic, fluff-angst, third person narrator, pining cause I am the king of writing pining, almost friends to lovers?, gender neutral reader, g/n, reader not implied Yuu/MC

Characters: Ace x reader

CWs: minor injuries; mention of fighting; although I did my reseach, I'm no doctor so don't rely on me for first aid info! Why would you trust a fanfiction for that you silly!!

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[A/N: I intend to write this as a series for each character, the rest of heartslabyul is currently on the works, but I liked Ace's part so much I couldn't help but post earlier! I love writing for him. So take this as grand entrance / preview for the series]

— "Ace Trappola, what in the world hapenned to your face?—

—"[name], I know I'm super handsome and all, but no need to get all worked up about it, hahaha!"—

—"No Ace. Your eye. You got a black eye."—

He stopped his fairly convincing fake laughter with a sharp inhale and a less convincing averted gaze. He didn't want to tell them the whole story, lest he'd risk trouble by getting the information reach his superiors, or even worse, getting the friend in question to be worried sick- not that they weren't already.

Silence was his best bet. And so he proceeded. Making the student in front of him deepen their impatient glare further as the seconds passed. —"I'm serious. If you got in trouble you need to tell me."— Before Ace could make one of his sly remarks back, his friend gasped in sudden realization —"OH, so THAT'S why you've been avoiding me the last few days! 'packed with work' you said! bullshit!"—

—"Ha... I suppose I did say that. Not that It wasn't true! But the reason for this wound is actually..."— Ace stuttered for a brief moment, the person in front of him crossed their arms and tapped one finger in antecipation. Chances of getting his lie through were slim, specially when nervously making it up on the spot.

—"I- I went face first into a doorhandle?"—

—"Sounds more like a question than an answer."—

A long sigh escaped his lips as he passed by their side, walking out of the courtyard to take the corridor that led to the mirror chamber.

—"Do me a favor and don't worry about it, 'kay? This time, I promise it's a harmless business of my own. Just another accident."—

They opened their mouth to speak but soon enough shut it before they could muster a word. For Ace, that tone was uncharacteristically serious.

For just two days they haven't seen each other, but it felt like the longest amount of time that gathered so much left unsaid. For two whole days the usual light chattering during lunch was dead silent. For two whole days the accompanied walking back to the dorms was lonely. For two days, Ace didn't have anyone to pass his funny notes to during boring class periods, because he made sure he'd miss the common lessons they shared for the day, promising the professors to replace the missed contents during the following weekend. Ace's precious weekends he always got to fully spend with his absolute favorite person (No hard feelings, Deuce). He took the avoidance mission as seriously as a Trappola could.

They followed the red haired boy silently behind. Whatever the reason he chose to hide that bruised face, it was no use now that they got that uncovered, right? [name] could throw the commonly used "you know you can tell me anything" or "I'd never judge if you got yourself in a sticky situation", but they'd sound like a broken record. The duo got in weekly trouble more than one could count on their fingers, so naturally, honesty and being able to rely on each other were big pillars for their friendship. If Ace wasn't in the mood to opening up, that was fine, but they could not fully turn their back to the problem at hand.

—"Can I at least get that treated for you?"—

===

—"For the hundreth time [name]. No, I don't have a headache. Yes, I can see perfectly from both eyes thank-you-very-much. And quit checking my temperature, I'm not your child!"— He lightly smacked their hand away from his forehead —"Where are you getting this questionaire from? I'm not gonna die from this."—

—"No, you're not going to die, but it's been some time, so you should have gotten that checked as soon as you 'went face first into a doorhandle'" — They gestured quotation marks with their fingers in the air

Ace scoffed as he pressed the ice pack on the injury, leaning his head back on the pillow. He gazed up the familiar ceiling of his current comapany's bedroom. —"Pfft- I didn't smack my face in a doorhandle, that would be stupid"—

—"Oh so you did lie that first time?"—

They got no response. The troublemaker could still get himself out of this. Maybe pretending to fall asleep, or jumping through the window, but he was tired. Too long without seeing each other, and now that he found himself on their arms again, he didn't want to leave.

He took a deep breath and got together all the courage he could find that moment. It wasn't much, but enough to blurt out a quick truth: —"Got into a fight."—

—"Are you fine with telling me why?"— They asked with not anger in their voice, nor annoyance, but care.

—"You."— He said —"They were talking shit about you so I punched them in the face"—

His friend widened their eyes at the information, and upon noticing it, he added quickly —"I knew you'd hate that I did something careless for your sake, but I promise it's the second and last time I throw fists on impulse."—

Ace concluded in a way to attempt to put an end to the conversation, but in a few moments he got a single response: —"Yeah. Don't do that."—

He let his eyes flutter shut, exhaling softly as if the weight of carrying that lie had been lifted.

—"But you know, next time-"— They continued —"call me up so I can deal with the bullies myself, yeah?"—

—"You're going to punch them in the face?"—

—"We're going to punch them in the face together"— They smiled —"....Just kidding, let's not tell Crowley about any of this"—

The boy laughed at the answer, the kind of laugh he only shared with the one and only he held so dearly in his heart. He could laugh away as many problems and pains as he wanted, but the truth- the real truth he swore was never to be admitted out loud.

The problem wasn't the black eye. The problem was that in the moment he got it, he realized how the love he bared for that friend had passed beyond solely platonic.

#oh I can only hope tumblr text editing don't screw everything up whenever I copy paste my works from my notes to a post #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #heartslabyul #[english works]

[collecting-stories]

I'm still on the soulmate au so can you do the tattoo one with Steve :)

I love soulmate AUs honestly...nothing makes me happier.

-

Heaven Help Us - Steve Harrington

Summary: You go to the video store to rent a movie and you come away with a soulmate.

A/N: I love when soulmate AUs are all mushy but I feel like if I found my soulmate randomly I would be just like stupid over it lol. Like my brain wouldn't be able to process it at all.

Stranger Things Masterlist || Celebrate 11k with me

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

It happened the summer you turned 18. You were in the process of cleaning out your closet (something your mom insisted you had to do before you left for college in the fall), trying on different clothes to decide what you wanted to donate when you turned toward the mirror and saw it. Right there on your left rib (because why couldn’t it be in an easily discoverable place) was the outlined tattoo of a baseball bat with nails in it.  

“Of fucking course,” you muttered, staring at it, trying desperately to commit the picture to memory. “It’s gotta be some weird shit.”  

You figured, and then hoped and prayed it wasn’t, related to one of those weirdos that played Dungeons and Dragons all weekend long. You thought about telling your friends but then you were worried where their minds would jump if you mentioned it. They had all turned 18 already and they had their tattoos, all of them fairly mundane and normal. Your mom had told you that she didn’t meet her soulmate (your dad, of course) until she was graduated from college, living in a completely different state, thousands of miles from where she grew up.  

“They might not be in Hawkins,” she had said it to you when you were still 17 and still hoping that somehow it’d be something totally mundane and normal.  

This, this would not do. 

By the time your tattoo showed up, Steve had already had his for six months. It was a a silhouette of a black cat and it sat right inside his tricep. He’d shown it to Robin and then, just in case, had shown it to Nancy. It wasn’t for her though and he knew that when it first appeared but he had found himself kind of wishing that it was.  

Just like your mom, Robin suggested that maybe his soulmate wasn’t even in Hawkins, maybe they were halfway around the world staring at a tattoo of hairspray (that comment didn’t go over well) and wondering who their soulmate was. Steve desperately wanted it to be someone he knew though, or at least someone here. He didn’t wanna go halfway around the world. He didn’t even want to leave Indiana.  

“Excuse me?” You waved your hand in Steve Harrington’s face, a last-ditch effort to catch his attention. He was just staring into space, watching the television that was mounted above one of the displays showing some cartoon.  

“What?” Steve looked over at you, slightly startled, and then ran a hand through his hair. You wanted to roll your eyes at him. Of course, Steve Harrington hadn’t changed a bit since he was in school.  

“I was asking you a question; do you guys have Heaven Help Us?” You asked, “I looked under H but I didn’t see it.”  

“Uh yeah, I think someone returned it yesterday,” He announced, stepping away from you for a moment. When he did, you couldn’t help but notice the tattoo on his arm. His sleeve had ridden up enough that you could see part of the cat and thought fondly of your own black cat, no doubt asleep on your bed.  

“I like your tattoo, by the way.” You mentioned, pointing to it.  

Steve looked down at his sleeve, lifting it the rest of the way so you could see the tattoo more clearly before pulling it down and looking at you, “It’s my uh, mark.” He felt cheesy calling it a soulmate mark but that’s exactly what it was. It was supposed to be his soulmate detector but so far it’d done nothing but bring up duds. He’d gone on plenty of dates and still he hadn’t found his soulmate.  

“Reminds me of my cat.” You explained, subconsciously itching at the mark on your ribcage. 

“Can I see your mark?” Steve asked immediately, the movie forgotten and his full attention on you as he stared at the spot you were itching. He’d heard about that before, his dad had told him how badly his leg itched when he met Steve’s mom for the first time. Supposedly it was a reaction that happened for some people but not everyone. (Steve was starting to wish that the rules for this soulmate stuff could be a lot more universal but it felt more like things were all over the place).  

 “What? Why?” You crossed your arms in front of yourself.  

“You said this looks like your cat.” 

“So what? I’m sure it looks like twelve other people’s cats too. Just cause a blue silhouette of a cat vaguely resembles my cat doesn’t mean we’re soulmates.” You replied, defensively. No way you were strapped with Steve Harrington. Sure he was cute, and funny, and you, like everyone else in middle school, had a crush on him at one point but that was then. You didn’t like like Steve Harrington. You weren’t even really friends.  

“Well twelve other people haven’t told me that it looks llike their cat and you keep scratching your side like it itches and that means something.” 

“Yeah, I have an itch.”  

“Come on,” Steve leaned further onto the counter, “one and done. Just pull up your shirt and let me see. If it isn’t than it isn’t and at least we narrowed it down and if it is...” Steve trailed off, not entirely sure what he wanted to say about it.  

“It’s probably not.” There were too many crazy things that happened in Hawkins on the daily, you couldn’t fathom that this could be one too.  

“What if it is?” Steve pressed, eyes flicking between your shirt over your ribcage to your eyes, looking eager and somewhat interested in the possibility that it could be what he thought it was, what you thought it might be.  

You sighed, unzipping your jacket and pushing it aside, “fine.” Carefully, you lifted your shirt up to just above the tattoo on your side, “this is stupid though, Steve, we’re definitely not soul mates.” 

“How do you know?” He questioned, “have you met your soulmate yet?” 

“No.” Honestly it was disheartening, knowing that somewhere in the universe another person existed who was your perfect match and you were here, in Hawkins, still doing the same shit day in and day out.  

You gripped the bottom of your shirt and slowly pulled it up. Your soulmate was probably the member of some deadly motorcycle gang. A Hell’s Angel or a Pagan and you would somehow have to get used to riding around on the back of a hog even though you panicked just driving in a regular car with the windows down. Maybe they’d be like, an axe murderer or someone with an equally terrible disposition.  

“No fucking way, no fucking way!” Steve seemed fairly animated about the whole thing and still your brain couldn’t process what that possibly meant. “That’s my bat!” 

Your reaction time was slow, processing what he was telling you. Maybe it wasn’t the most complicated of sentences but the thought of Steve Harrington owning a baseball bat with nails sticking out of it.  

“Are you also going to tell me that you abduct people on the weekends or something?” You asked skeptically as you raised an eyebrow at him.  

That seemed to bring Steve back down to earth, “it’s a uh, it’s a long story. But, but that’s...I mean. I can show you. It’s in my car.” 

“You have a baseball bat with nails in it just...in your trunk? Why? In case someone upsets you?” You asked, holding back a laugh.  

“No, but, how are you focusing on that right now? We’re soulmates.” 

“That part is gonna take a little longer to process,” you admitted, “I mean, to be fair, I came in to rent a movie...I wasn’t expecting to like, meet my soulmate,” the word sounded foreign as you said it. You’d spent weeks thinking it over and over and wondering who it could be, if they were in Hawkins or somewhere else, and now you were staring at him and you couldn’t even process the information. “Much less that it’d be Steve Harrington.” 

“I mean,” he shrugged, “I wasn’t expecting it either.” 

“I don’t even...know what to do.” You replied, “like what happens now? Do we like, do we go on a date or something.” 

“We can, but I’m not watching Heaven Help Us.” He replied, making a face at the mention of the movie.  

“It’s a good movie!” 

“Look, if we’re soulmates I’ve gotta level with you. That’s a terrible movie.”  

“If we’re soulmates there’s a plethora of things I could say about your taste Steve.” You replied, raising an eyebrow at him.  

He looked like he wanted to say something but he smiled instead, “fine, Heaven Help Us it is. But we’re watching Jaws after that.”  

#ems 11k sleepover #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #collecting stories imagine

[unrequitedloveletter]

Hey !! I’d like to request Jesper finding the reader in a depressive episode, like they‘ve been in bed all week, their room is a mess, they haven’t changed clothes, and their hair has started to become matted, something that’s more focused on the “gross” side of depression. Also I call the emoji alien emoji or pixel emoji :^) - 👾

Brighter Days- J.F x gn! reader

Okay, hi! This took me longer than I anticipated because I wrote relentlessly for three days straight and then was shocked when I fell into a bit of a writing slump and the exhaustion from the cold I've been dealing with for the past week or so finally got to me, so I'm sorry that writing this has taken me a bit.

Your other requests will probably come out closer to the end of the week if not the weekend, but yeah! Thank you for being so patient with me, it means a lot :)

Fic type- this is hurt/comfort with fluffy undertones

Warnings- jespers guns are mentioned, the reader is depicted exactly as requested, matting has started in their hair, their room is a mess. This is not an attempt to glorify depression on my end but rather a reminder that you don't have to suffer alone all the time, and if this romanticizes depression in anyway, I apologize and feel free to reach out and let me know so that I can make the necessary adjustments.

None of the crows had heard from you in weeks. It’d started when you’d turned down a job that you wouldn’t’ve, ordinarily. When you made up an excuse as to why you wouldn’t be able to do it and called it a day.

Then, when Jesper and the rest of the crows got home and Jesper didn’t find you on the bottom floor of the Slat, drinking a brandy or working behind the bar, regretting your having decided to skip out on the trip and the excellent money that came from it, he had the first idea that something could’ve been wrong. 

Even when you had nothing of real significance to do on the bottom floor of the Slat, you could always be found at a table in the corner, drinking your iced drink or alcohol of choice in the spring and summer, your hot drink of choice in the winter and fall. You’d always be reading, an oil lamp to illuminate your space placed onto the table at which you sat, the book you’d chosen sitting in the way you preferred as you read and occasionally annotated.

It’d been six weeks since Jesper had last seen you, and when he asked around, he found out that it’d been at least a week and a half since anyone had last seen you. 

You’d made a run to the shops while, according to Pim, looking fresh off a long cry, and nobody had seen you since you’d gotten back, a few bags with the essentials draped over your arms. 

Jesper immediately made it his prerogative to see if you were okay, and as he walked to your room on the third floor, some part of him wondered if the reason you hadn’t been seen was because you’d decided that Ketterdam was no longer your home and left, picked up a boat ticket or smuggled yourself on a cargo ship headed off somewhere like Ravka. 

“Y/N?” He asked, one hand ghosting the doorknob. You didn’t respond, and Jesper took hold of the doorknob anyway. He twisted it to the right, finding that it opened, the door having been unlocked.

Jesper stepped into the room carefully, taking it in as his eyes searched for yours in the darkened room, the only light having been the spring sun coasting in through the small window that sat near the ceiling. 

The room was a mess, trash and belongings alike scattered over the floor. You looked like you’d been crying, your hair beginning to mat in some spots. A dent had been made in your pillow where your head had rested most of the time, and Jesper had to wonder how long it’d been since you’d gotten out, stretched your legs and shook out the tension in your arms and back.

“Oh, you weren’t supposed to see me like this,” you said as you met his gaze. “I should’ve kept track of the days.”

“I would love you if we were stuck together in a dumpster,” Jesper said. “I can handle this, Y/N. Will you let me help?” 

“Jesper, no,” you said. “I can’t--you shouldn’t have to help me. I could barely get up for a week and a half. Let me clean up the mess when I’m the one who made it.”

“If I say no and I offer a kiss, what are my chances then?” He asked as you willed yourself to sit up, moving until your back was against the wall, your legs criss-cross on the bed. 

You hummed, pretending to think about it as you registered the dryness in your throat, the ache of your limbs and the exhaustion that you felt from having spent so long trying to fight your own mind. 

Four weeks, you’d managed, without slipping into the beginnings of a depressive episode. 

Week five came, you grabbed what you needed when you wanted to feel the sun against your skin and see if the vitamin D would be of any help. The depressive episode had begun in the middle of that week.

Week six donned on you and you could barely fathom the idea that you had to keep fighting against yourself to keep breathing, to keep blinking, to avoid just sinking into your mattress and ceasing to exist. 

“No,” you said, trying to bring an air of finality to your tone but finding that you just wanted to sink into your mattress and cease to exist. “No, Jesper.”

“I love you more than words can ever express properly,” Jesper said. “Which is why I’m going to spray one of my shirts with some of my cologne, get you a towel, and leave clothes by the shower. What I do while you're showering is my decision, and you don’t owe me anything for it. Does that work?” 

You sighed. “I know what it looks like when I’m being tricked, Fahey,” you said, though the shower was tempting, and you knew that you needed to brush your hair anyway. “But fine. And, for the record, I will be buying you whiskey at the Crow Club and coffee when we meet the others for breakfast at least until June. You’re the love of my life, and if you get to clean my room when I’m at my worst, I get to buy you coffee and whiskey.” 

Jesper hummed, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered before parting, heading to his room to grab one of his shirts, a towel, and a bottle of his cologne. 

You stood carefully, moved to your bathroom.

It was nothing more than a bathtub with a showerhead, a toilet and a basin with a mirror mounted to the wall above it, but the water worked and the temp was adjustable, a luxury that was ill afforded in the Barrel, and the mirror had never fallen off the wall and taken a piece of the wall with it, which wasn't something that many who were apart of the Barrel gangs and lived in their bases could say.

You turned on the water, made sure you had the soaps you needed, and stripped, stepping under the showerhead once the water had warmed up to your preference. You spent a long few minutes just standing under the water, feeling the warmth surround you as you pressed your forehead against the tiled walls. 

You registered, for the first time in a week and a half, it felt like you could breathe again. Breathing properly, breathing and acknowledging the weight of your lungs, the feeling of your skin and the heaviness of your heart, it was something you’d done over the past week and a half, something that had felt like a chore but in that moment felt like a blessing from the saints themselves. 

You washed up, stayed in the shower until your hands had pruned while trying to work out the beginnings of the mats that’d developed in your hair while it was soaked. 

When you stepped out, you found that Jesper had placed a towel atop the toilet seat, a pair of black cargo pants and a maroon Ketterdam University sweater beneath it.

You wrapped the towel around your body and found the comb that you’d used to detangle your hair in situations that were much like that one, used it until your hair was smooth, the mats that you’d begun ridding your hair of in the shower having smoothed out after a bit of fuss. 

You dried your hair off using the flip side of the towel and got dressed in the clothes Jesper had placed on the toilet seat, the distinct smell of his cologne combined with gun smoke from how frequently he'd used his revolvers meeting your nostrils as you pulled the sweater over your torso. 

You stepped out of the bathroom and back into your room as Jesper handed a garbage bag off to Matthias and another to Wylan.

“Hey,” you whispered into the open air.

“Hey love,” Jesper said, turning to you with a grin on his face. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Better than I did two hours ago,” you responded. “I still feel like shit and I’m convinced I’ll remain in this perpetual state of exhaustion forever, but thank you for all that you’ve done for me.” 

“You would’ve done the same,” Jesper said. “I’ve got your six, love. Even when you’re at your worst.” 

You stepped forward, pulling Jesper into a tight hug at that. You pulled away after a few minutes, let him press another kiss to your forehead before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Nothing was fixed, really. You still felt like shit and you knew that it would last at least another few weeks as depressive episodes always did, but you had people, you had at least one person, who cared enough to help you and love you even when he’d walked into your room and found it looking a mess. That, in that moment, was all you cared to think about, in the arms of the guy you loved with knowledge that brighter days were ahead. 

#jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone