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#found this while looking through some old sketches!
tqmies · 4 months
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In Disguise
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Description. Desperate and broke, your trio of nerdy friends offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Things are normal at first until you abruptly come across a camera tripod facing Doyoung's bed. Were your awkward friends really just camboy's in disguise?
Pairing. Kim Doyoung x Yuta Nakamoto x Kim Jungwoo x Fem Reader
Genre. SMUT, Camboy!AU, College!AU, Roomates! MDNI!
Warnings. Foursome (Do I even have to say it?), Unrealistic depictions of sex overall, A little MxM action, Fingering, Oral, Condoms taken off, Plan B mentioned, Voyeurism, Creampie, Degradation, Praise
Word count. 13K (oh...)
Note: This was supposed to be out ages ago but I'm proud (not rlly) to present this mess of a wet dream!
"You have no idea how grateful I really am." You state, placing down your last box into the vacant room. You sigh in relief as your back was literally killing you too much to drag another box up. And that was that the boys had helped you with a majority of it.
"You've said it a million times, I think we know." Yuta teases, opening the box on your bed as he shuffles through it. It was old books you had brought from your place, well a few of the tons you had. Most of them had to go into storage due to lack of room at your newest living arrangement.
Truthfully, you felt really bad about this whole thing, even though Yuta kept assuring you it was alright, all the boys did. But something felt terrible about rooming with your friends for free, and kicking Yuta out of his room at that.
The boys didn't want you to feel weird about sharing a room, so Yuta slept in the same room as Jungwoo for the time being, and that made you feel even worse.
"You can have your room back, I promise I can sleep on the couch."
"Then where would you put your stuff?"
And you had pretty much lost the argument then and there, but you were determined to make up for rent in other ways. You'd clean, do laundry, and cook a few of the meals you had mastered. You could buy groceries and maybe even pay the water bill every once in a while. Not that you planned to stay here for long, only until you found another job, seeing as the one you had rapidly started laying people off.
Which brought you back to square one, Yuta’s bed.
Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter!
"I'm home!" Jungwoo announces as you hear the front door shut, his loudness already alerting you. You heard the loud clank of his keys on the counter, and his footsteps making their way towards you.
"We just finished bringing all the boxes up." Doyoung comments, giving Jungwoo a much deserved side eye.
"Oh I made it just in time then."
Jungwoo came bearing gifts though, handing out bottles of water to you guys. "I got them from one of the tents on campus, here's a shirt too!"
And before you know it, you're being hit in the head with the shirt Jungwoo threw at your face. You throw it off as you jokingly threaten him. "I'm going to crack your glasses in half Kim Jungwoo."
The male cowers in fear as he scurries off to his room, shouting behind his shoulder. "Do you guys wanna see what I'm working on?"
Doyoung jumps up, always eager to divulge in Jungwoo's nerdy projects. "Sure."
"I'm designing a supersonic VTOL fighter jet!" The engineering major says, lugging his laptop towards you all, showing you some prints on his screen. They're blueprints and sketches, and random little notes on the side, but you really can barely tell what you're looking at.
It's not that you were dumb, you were actually a very decent student. But the men in the room with you? Jungwoo was a mechanical engineering major, which said enough. Yuta was pre-med studying to be a doctor, and Doyoung? He's here on a full ride scholarship studying computer science.
So, for lack of better words, you were the dumbest in the room.
Not that you cared anyways, the boys never made you feel less than or anything because of your simple major. You also took pride in it, sure you weren't designing future airplanes or developing software, but it was enough for you.
"Looks cool, but you should widen the wingspan, I see possible blockage through the-" Doyoung starts on with his commentary.
"Yuta! Do you want to help me start cooking?" You ask, the male seemingly uninterested in the plane, and you could relate. He nods and follows you to the kitchen, adjusting his frames.
After checking their fridge for ideas, you start filling a pot with water to boil some pasta in, directing Yuta to start chopping up some garlic. He follows directions well, as one would expect, and does as he's told.
"How did your mid-term go?" Yuta breaks the silence, referring to the grueling test he had helped you with.
"Fine, I got an 80." You reply, measuring out more pasta.
Yuta raises a brow as he places the knife down. "An 80? But we studied all week."
"Yeah but some of the questions were hard, I didn't remember." You say, and you were truly satisfied with your grade. Sure you had studied, but not everyone retained information as easily as your friends, and they were still having trouble learning that you weren't going to get a 100 points every time.
Yes the boys had extreme book smarts, but they lacked a little street smarts sometimes. They were less empathetic and more clear cut, but you knew they meant well. Though it didn't mean their lack of social cues hurt any less though.
Sometimes you wonder how you had even befriended them. Especially Doyoung, who was usually no nonsense and short worded on campus. But it could all be traced back to Jungwoo.
It was back in freshman year, and on your very first day of class. You had rushed in, confused to see that they had already started without you, which was weird seeing as your class wasn't supposed to be in session for another thirty minutes. You had just waved it off as an accident and sat down, right next to Jungwoo.
During a break, he had introduced himself and asked you if you were excited for Math 2414, and inquired about what your major was.
That was when you realized in horror that you were in Calculus, and not Pre-calculus. No wonder they had already begun, it was the wrong class! And you were not trying to take anything beyond what was required for your degree. "So this isn't pre-calculus?"
"No, I took that in high school! You didn't get that out of the way already?" He had asked, and just then did you realize what kind of person you were dealing with.
You had explained the situation to Jungwoo to which he was really understanding, offering to show you your actual classroom for your next class day. You had agreed, and then by some coincidence, you had run into Jungwoo a few days later. Catching up with him and mentioning you were having trouble with a certain concept already, to which he had offered his help.
You had started having sessions regularly, and Jungwoo had invited you to study with his group of friends, which is where you met the others.
Despite them being a little intimidated by you (And vice versa), you had all got along well, and you were thankful for that. Despite not having great social skills, they were actually a lot less complicated to deal with. They spent a majority of their time studying or doing school work, burying their noses in books. And if not? Then they're playing a computer game Doyoung designed, or testing if Jungwoo's rocket model could fly in the middle of a JCPenny parking lot.
They didn't have a lot of drama either, and you were sure they'd be simple enough to live with. Come to think of it, it's always been tidy whenever you've visited. Jungwoo's bed was always made and Doyoung's desk always clean. Yuta's was exceptionally organized too, even donning some expensive looking anime figures in displays on his shelf.
They were such nerds.
You snort to yourself as you pour the sauce onto the plates, food ready to be eaten. Funny enough, you hadn't even had to call the boys. Yuta had helped you but Doyoung and Jungwoo had hounded the kitchen counter and talked your ear off, both excited for a home cooked meal. Apparently, none of them could cook very well and they usually opted for take out, so this was a relief.
"You guys literally had all the ingredients already." You giggled as you sat down on the small table they had in their apartment.
Jungwoo shakes his head. "Doesn't matter if you don't know how to make anything out of them."
"Thank you by the way, this is really good." Doyoung nods, and by the way he scarfed down half of it already, you'd say he's telling the truth.
"Slow down, you'll choke." Yuta says concerned before his expression changes into a different one. "Wait, you should choke! I can finally practice my CPR on a real person!"
"Well if you haven't practiced on a human yet, I don't think I can trust you." Doyoung shoots him a glare.
"You're hindering my first-aid progression." Yuta narrows his eyes as he takes a bite of his food. The air grows quiet as you voice out what had been weighing on your mind.
"So, any plans for tonight?" You ask, wondering what you're going to get up to a Saturday night. You had a long week, especially since you had woken up on Monday to an eviction notice, so you'd say you could use some time out.
"Hm? Probably start looking over my lobotomy notes for my lecture next week." Yuta responds, earning a chorus of acknowledgment from the other males.
"O-okay, Doyoung?" You ask, but you think you can already guess too.
"I'm beta testing this program my friend just finished, probably'll take me all night." He speaks, attention on his food.
You deflate, looking towards Jungwoo. "Nice, and you?"
"Putting my blueprints into a 3D maker and drafting up a scale model of it." He says, and you take note of how he looks excited about it.
This was quite a turn from what you were used to, you had to remind yourself that these weren't your typical college guys. Yet, you could feel your left eye twitching slightly. "Guys! It's a Saturday night."
"Mhm?" Doyoung replies, his eyebrows furrowed, like the day didn't change anything.
You scoff, "So what, no frat parties? No bar hopping?"
You're met with blank looks, the men looking utterly confused as Jungwoo shakes his head, unfamiliar with both scenes. "No?"
You sigh, facing the fact that you're going out solo. You could probably text a few of your other classmates to meet up wherever you went.
"You guys do that, I'm gonna go get laid tonight." You shrug, getting up to put your dish in the sink. "Yuta you can sleep in your bed if you want."
"Wait- Where are you gonna go?" Jungwoo asks, following you to the kitchen with furrowed brows.
You shrug. "I don't know, maybe a club? Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. If I get home before morning then I'll just crash on the couch."
"If?!" Jungwoo's eyes widen at the prospect of you being out all night.
You place a hand on his shoulder. "I have a key, don't wait up."
And he stands there shocked, the other two watching as you head to your room to shower and change your outfit. You had a long night ahead of you.
Even afterwards, when you had stepped out in
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You try your best to quietly open the front door, met with only pitch black darkness as you assume everyone was asleep. It was two in the morning, and in their defense, you did tell them not to wait up.
Slipping your heels off, you step quietly towards the couch. You peel your tight dress off and realize you have nothing to change into, and you weren't going to wake Yuta to just grab a shirt. Luckily for you, there was a blanket you could cover yourself with, so you discarded the bra as well, thankful that at least you had worn shorts under your dress tonight. You sigh as you lay down, head still spinning as you come down from earlier.
You had succeeded in your quest of getting laid, thoroughly being manhandled by a guy named Mingyu who went to a neighboring university. The sex was actually pretty decent, but it could've been better. You had wanted someone to bend you into a pretzel and fuck you until your legs were rendered useless for the next week. And he just couldn't provide that. Maybe you'd have to trust in your rainbow dildo from now on.
You brush the thoughts to the back of your mind as you finally find sleep, eyes fluttering shut.
You swear, it felt like you were asleep for all of two seconds when you hear the blaring alarm clock from one of the rooms. Followed by the sound of things being knocked over.
Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, hangover hitting you hard, but your eyes are drawn to frantic looking Yuta running around the apartment out of his room. He moves over a few things on the dining table quickly and you watching confusion.
"Where are they?" He mutters to himself, throwing some things in the kitchen around as well.
Sitting up, you rub your eyes as your vision adjusts. "What're you looking for?"
"Just my- Oh, where is your shirt? Why are you naked?" He rambles, covering his eyes as he turns around.
You hadn't even noticed that the blanket you used to cover yourself all night had slipped down, accidentally revealing at least part of your boobs to Yuta. "I slept like this because I didn't want to barge into your room to grab a shirt, sorry. I'll go do that now!"
You get up and scramble to the room, feeling so shitty at making Yuta uncomfortable. Opening the drawer, you slip on the first shirt that's there. You don't even look at it before you're rushing out and apologizing profusely to Yuta. "It's only my first morning here and I've already flashed you."
"Is that my shirt?" He asks, eyes wide and your look down to confirm that it was, in fact, Yuta's shirt.
"Oh! And I stole your shirt, I'll wash it and put it back! I really am sorry, I'm just so hungover right now." You hang your head in shame as the words slip out.
"No! No, really it's fine." Yuta dismisses as he waves his hands. "I found my keys so I have to go now, see you when I get back!"
And with that, he's out the door, face tinted red.
God, you were a fool! Sighing in defeat, you make your way to your room, slipping off the shirt and trading it out for one that was yours.
What you didn't know was that Yuta was still standing on the other side of the front door, mind reeling as he replays the mental image of your nipples peaking through the fabric of one of his shirts. He didn't think you'd be giving him this much trouble already! It was the first morning!
Back inside, you're gathering clothes to take a shower. Jungwoo opens the door to his room, unexpectedly rushing out as well, saying he had somewhere to be as he's unable to meet your eyes. You had no idea everyone would be so busy this morning. Was it usually like this? You shrug, too tired and ready to be met with steaming hot water as you bid him goodbye.
After your shower, you not surprised to see Doyoung up as well, sitting near the kitchen as he munches on a banana. You can see his computer in front of him displaying some kind of code, and he doesn't look like he got a wink of sleep. Did these boys ever take a break?
"Good morning Doyoung." You yawn, making a bee line for the coffee machine. You grab a K-Cup and try to figure your way around the machine as you fail to notice Doyoung's stare.
"Oh, Morning." Doyoung finally gives a greeting back, thankful that your back is facing him right now with the way the blood was rushing to his face. Now, Doyoung wouldn't say he was a pervert or anything, but he couldn't help the way his eyes were glued to your shorts.
You break him out of his spell when you turn around, coffee mug in hand. You're frowning, "Why's everyone so busy today?"
"It's like that everyday, we rarely see each other in the mornings." Doyoung explains, keeping his composure still as he tries not to let his eyes wander. He's not stupid, he knew it'd be a little difficult to live with someone as hot as you, but he figured he could handle himself.
"Oh that's too bad, I wanted to make everyone breakfast." You speak, turning around to open the cabinets, unaware how Doyoung's eyes shot straight back to your ass. "So, how was your night?"
"I-it was alright, and yours?" He asks while he clears his throat, already semi-aware of your ventures that you had announced.
"Can't say it was any better." And you leave it at that as you sigh. What could you mean by that? Did you not get laid? With an ass like that?
"Oh.. Well, I have a meeting with my professor in twenty so I have to get going soon." He nods, and you just about lose your mind.
"On a Sunday?"
"Computers work on Sunday's too."
God, what was he on about? "Okay Doyoung, see you later then."
Weirdly, you felt the least your friends could do was amuse you. But so far, you were beginning to realize that they're likely this busy all the time, between their schooling and internship jobs, they were packed.
Speaking of jobs, it was time to start looking.
..
Eight online job applications later and you're about ready to move to the woods and start living like a cave woman off the grid. No money, no bills, and no rent. Sadly, you were too accustomed to running water to let that happen though.
So you decide to drop off an application at a promising job near you, before hitting the inevitable brick wall. You don't have a printer.
Surely one of the boys had to have one, right?
Wrong, it seemed as you looked into Jungwoo's room. It felt weird to just peep in there, but you didn't want to bother him by texting since you knew he was busy. Unfortunately, you were already aware that Yuta didn't have one either.
Which left you with peeping into Doyoung's room. Maybe if you had just, I don't know, used the printer available at your college campus, you wouldn't have discovered such a life altering sight.
Yet, for some reason, that possibility didn't cross your mind as you swung the door open. And you felt like your jaw hit the floor as you stared ahead almost immediately.
Positioned right above Doyoung's bed, was a camera.
And not just any camera, an ultra HD expensive looking one, and that said a lot seeing you knew nothing about cameras. To make matters worse, it was held by a tri-pod. Could it be any more obvious?
You close the door as you stand, feet plastered to the floor in horror. What the hell was Kim Doyoung doing with a classic porn set up in his room? Kim Doyoung?! The nerdy TA who ran from woman that were just trying to ask him class-related questions? The male who grimaced at any sight of public of public affection? The one who rolled his eyes in annoyance when others made dirty jokes?
That Kim Doyoung was making porn?
Yeah right, you could almost laugh at that.
There had to be another reasonable explanation, right? You had known Doyoung for a while now, and he definitely didn't even seem like a man who was too keen on pre-marital sex, there was just no way he was filming it.
You doubt he even watched porn, that's how busy and wound up he seemed. There was no way on this green earth that he was doing that. But that doesn't explain what the camera was doing there.
You had to find a way to connect this to his nerdy computer job or you were going to go crazy.
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You got home around five in the afternoon after dropping off the finally printed application, and picking up a few things, like toilet paper and laundry soap, that you had noticed missing around the apartment. Mostly just buying yourself time to get over the weird thoughts you were having now.
You doubt you'd be able to look Doyoung in the eye without crumbling, so you text your friend Mark if you can crash on his couch, he lives closer to campus anyways. He responds almost immediately with a sure dude, and you decide you'll stop by the house to pick up pajamas.
You don't expect anyone to be home as you unlock the door, but of course, everyone was home. All of them gathered in the living room with takeout boxes as Jungwoo spots you. He holds one up, "We didn't know when you'd be home, but we ordered for you."
You smile as you thank him, opening the box to reveal your favorite dish. You hadn't explicitly told them lately, but they had remembered? That makes your heart swell for your friends a bit as you spot Doyoung out of the corner of your eye. Oh, right.
"Actually, I have to go do this thing tonight." You lie. "So I just stopped by to get some clothes."
"Really? Is everything okay?" Yuta inquires as you nod. And it's as if there's no awkwardness from him after the incident this morning either, so you're grateful for that.
"I'm fine, I'll be home tomorrow." You explain.
"Well, could you spare a minute to eat with us?" Jungwoo pouts, and you find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself. You were always a little weak for him.
If Doyoung notices your odd behavior as you sit by him, he doesn't say a word about it. In fact, everyone seems to go about their business. Everyone filling you in on how busy their days were and asking about what you had been up to.
"Oh, I left the bags by the door, but I bought some stuff we needed."
"You're an angel." Jungwoo comments. "I was scared I was going to have to use napkins instead of toilet paper again."
"That's so gross Jungwoo." Yuta reconciles and you all laugh in agreement.
"So, you'll be gone all night then?" Doyoung asks, bringing your attention back to him. Your eyes dart to his hands, right as he twirls the noodles around his chopsticks. Sure you were still wondering a little about the camera situation, but it wasn’t like that right? Though you can’t help but notice how pretty his hands were. 
His fingers were long, and you couldn’t help but imagine how they wrapped around his own cock. If he filmed anything, would he jerk off and beg his viewers to let him cum? Or was he more dominant, shoving his thin fingers into a flashlight as he spoke nasty words, or maybe even in another girl. The visual alone is enough to get you hot and bothered. But you shake yourself out of it, this was the dorky comp-sci major you lived with, you should not be thinking about him like that.
"Yeah, I'm working on a project with Mark, figured I'd just spend the night since we have the class together in the morning." You put together, pretty impressed with how well the lie was coming out.
"Mark?" Yuta raises a brow, the name familiar to him. "Like the hockey player?"
You nod, curious. "You know him?"
"Not really, just know he's a jock."
You catch his implication. "Well, he's not like that. Plus, he's my friend so you guys shouldn't worry, not like I'm spending the night with a stranger."
Jungwoo grows uncharacteristically quiet. "Oh."
..
"So Jungwoo's being fucking weird, Doyoung might have an onlyfans, and Yuta's saw your boobs?" Mark parrots back as you two sit on his living room couch, he's shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side to the other as he thinks. His brows furrow in concentration as he cooks up a response.
"Exactly."
Haechan, your friends roommate and fellow hockey teammate, laughs loudly as he enters the room. "And it's only your second day living with them?"
"Told you the losers would be a lot to handle." Mark shrugs, and you roll your eyes. These two didn't have the greatest impression of your other three friends, reducing them down to the nerds everyone thought they were.
"I didn't see you offering me a room," You defend. "Plus, they're super easy to live with so I don't have much else to complain about."
"You could always just share a bed with me." Haechan smirks, and you fake gag. "Your room smells like shit."
"Hey!"
"Anyways, I'd rather live with my beloved nerds than with you two sleazes." You state truthfully, scrunching your nose.
"Doyoung might be slinging his dick on camera, yet we're the sleazes?" Mark giggles, and you hit him in the arm.
"I don't think that's the case but, is there any other explanation?" You groan, stealing a chip from a bag hidden on Mark's side. He swats at your hand as you grab another one.
"He could just be into filming." Haechan offers, joining you two as he pops open a soda. And you ponder if Doyoung's ever been seen with a camera before.
You shake your head, doubting it. "He's never mentioned anything like that."
"Well running from him, and the rest of your roommates, is just going to make them think you're ungrateful. It'd be better to just confront them now and get over it." Mark advises, and the other male agrees.
Haechan places his soda down. "Why does it matter anyways? What Doyoung does in his apartment is no one else's business."
"Well-" You stop yourself as you look down. "I don't know."
"What's up?" Mark says at the shift in your attitude.
You hadn't confronted it yet, but the though of the things Doyoung did on his bed with his camera running? You hated that you wanted to see it. You hated that you ran with the implication of him having a scandalous hobby, and that you wanted a front row seat.
"I don't know, even with those wire-frame's and all, I think he's kind of cute." You admit begrudgingly, leaning back into the couch in embarrassment.
"Oh my God," Haechan sits up. "The thought of him doing that has you all hot and bothered! That's what it is, it's not even about him actually doing it, its about you thinking he is."
"And you're just having trouble grappling with your feelings." Mark shrugs as he pops a chip into his mouth, lollipop stick discarded.
You cover your face with your hands. "Stop.."
Mark sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Don't hate the messenger."
"Okay sure, Doyoung's nice to look at but if anything, I'd be more into Jungwoo." You reveal, and it's true. If there's anyone in the house you'd like in that way, it'd be Jungwoo. You two just had a better connection, even if he'd be acting different lately.
"In a weird science-y kind of way?" Haechan tilts his head before groaning. "Why him when you could have the hottest frat boy on campus?"
"There you go again." You glare, knowing instantly that he was referring to Lee Jeno's crush on you. You know full well the two in front of you were rooting for their friend. They also thought you were too attractive to be hidden behind stuffy scholars all day. And sure, Jeno was sweet, and easy on the eyes, but you just weren't into him. "Stop trying to set me up."
"Worth a shot."
"Anyways, I think instead of just hiding here." Mark narrows his eyes. "You should go home and explain everything, that way you don't continue scuttling around out of nervousness."
"And admit that I thought about Doyoung in that way?" You exclaim, face palming. "Mark, that's a terrible plan."
"You don't have to say all that," Mark crosses his arms in retaliation. "Just talk about Jungwoo's behavior and clear the air with Yuta."
You hang your head in defeat. "Can I at least wait until tomorrow?"
"Nope. Now."
You plead as you caught off guard by his insistance. "But Mark-"
"He said now." Haechan repeats, grinning at your misery.
"Oh so now you two agree?" You scoff in disbelief. Those two loved to argue about everything, but of course they could team up against you.
Mark nods, pointing to the door. "Go before it's past their bedtime."
"Don't be ridiculous Mark." Haechan feigns seriousness before he chuckles. "They have to tuck each other in first."
"You two are so annoying." You mutter as you pack up your bag. Shooting the two endless glares as you slip your shoes on.
Thirty minutes later and you're at the front door of what is now considered your home. Even when it was just your friends, you had never felt this nervous entering it before. You take a deep breath in as you stick the key in the lock, ready for confrontation.
You're met with chatter in the living room, relieved that they were still up, at least you wouldn't be waking them. You close the door behind you quietly as you take your shoes off and make your way to the living room.
You take a deep breath as you round the corner. "Hey, I'm back-"
You freeze in your place at the sight before you. It seriously seemed liked your friends had been abducted by aliens. There was no way the image before you was real. Your eyes widen as your jaw slacks, "What. The. Fuck."
Your met with three pairs of eyes staring back at you, Yuta standing up from the couch first. "I-I thought you were going to be gone all night."
You stay still from shock, brain trying to come up for any reasonable explanation as to why your friends looked liked male strippers right now. "You...You're Yuta?!"
Yuta looks taken aback. "Just with a little makeup."
Just a little? Yuta looked completely transformed, his hair gelled back nicely instead of awkwardly parted down the middle. The black glasses and collard shirts traded out for thick rings and painted nails. He looked like a rock star, and was that a tattoo?
"We can explain." Doyoung awkwardly looks down. Your knocked out by the sigh of him as well. Gone is his usual stern put-together look, instead he's donning smoky eye shadow with layered gold necklaces as his dark hair messily frames his face. He's wearing a sleeveless shirt, and that catches you heavily off guard as he usually only wears loose fitting clothes. He had been hiding those toned arms the entire time?
You take a step back. "How do you plan on explaining why it looks like I just stepped onto the set of Magic Mike?"
Your eyes finally meet the quiet boy who had been on your mind recently, Jungwoo. And to say he looked stunning would be an understatement. He was wearing a cropped shirt that showcased his toned abs as he stood up, the red color of it contrasting to his skin perfectly. His eyes looked striking, and he's wearing dark makeup as well.
You'd hate to admit it, but the sight of the men had you suddenly rubbing your thighs together and trying to stop your head from spinning. What the hell was going on right now? What alternate timeline has you just entered?
"Why don't you sit?" Doyoung suggests, avoiding eye contact.
"Umm, alright." You comply, hesitating. When you look back up with expectant eyes, they start to get nervous.
Yuta sits as well, and you're trying not to drool. "Don't freak out."
You side eye him, this was an unusual reaction. "Right.."
"I'll just come out and say it," He pauses. "We're camboys."
He watches your face for a reaction but you provide none, instead choosing to have an explosion in your mind as you keep your composure outwardly. You turn to face him, calmly. "Oh."
Doyoung repeats. "Oh?"
"I don't know how I'm meant to react to this." You struggle truthfully. One, you were grappling with the explanation that you were right in your assumptions. Two, you were trying your best not to just gawk at them. "Plus, it's none of my business, I just came home to apologize."
Jungwoo furrows his brows. "To us?"
"I kind of already saw the tri-pod facing Doyoung's bed and jumped to conclusions. That's why I was acting distant, and I also flashed Yuta this morning-"
"You what?" Doyoung perks up.
"It wasn't on purpose." You wave your hands around before lowering your voice. "And I wanted to know why Jungwoo's been acting weird lately, and if I did anything wrong."
Jungwoo looks taken aback. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong."
"Are you sure? You've been acting off since I've moved in." You respond, trying not to ogle your friends abs. It was proving to be harder than you thought as you forced yourself to look him in the eye.
Yuta and Doyoung exchange a knowing glance that you miss as Jungwoo stutters for an explanation. "I'm sorry, I've just been stressed."
And you just nod, the tense atmosphere in the room suffocating you. "Maybe I should go."
"Are you bothered?" Yuta asks, stopping you. The rest of the boys look genuinely worried, and you feel terrible. Your silence must've come off wrong.
"What? No, this is your house! You can all do whatever you want." You admit genuinely.
Doyoung shakes his head. "We could've at least let you know before hand-"
"No, really, it's fine." You reassure him as you make eye contact with the two other boys. "Also, your secrets safe with me, I won't say anything."
"We know you won't." Yuta nods. "We trust you, and we're sorry we didn't say anything sooner, we just didn't want things to change."
"Nothing has changed, alright?" You smile. "Everything's normal."
..
Everything was far from normal as the days progressed. Sure, the boys seemed a little more loose around you, knowing they didn't have to hide their nighttime activities from you anymore.
But you, on the other hand? Let's just say you were having a hard time not opening a incognito tab on your computer to search for your friends content. Though you knew their accounts wouldn't be easily traceable, likely not having their real name attached to it at all.
It still didn't stop you from wanting to look though.
"If you zone out one more time, I'm kicking you out of my apartment." Haechan voices in annoyance, noticing your lack of attention on some crazy story he was telling you today.
"Yeah, what has you so spacey?" Mark asks, returning to Haechan's bedroom with a water bottle in his hand.
They were unaware of the events, as you had kept your mouth shut, as promised. But it was beginning to grow harder to keep everything to yourself, especially with the way you'd been feeling lately. So with Mark's curious eyes on yours, the words spill out like a waterfall. You recalling everything that had happened to your closest friends, including how badly you wanted to know what the others were up to behind the camera.
Haechan looks gobsmacked, mouth agape as he takes in your words. "..Jungwoo has abs?"
"Is that all you got from that?" You voice frustratedly, they were insufferable.
"I'm never seen him in the gym a day in my life!"
"You don't go to the gym Haechan!"
"All three of them?" Mark repeats, in utter shock as well.
You nod back. "I don't know if they film together or what but-"
"You wanna see it." Haechan finishes for you. "You pervert!"
"I'm not a pervert!"
"You're a pervert. Pervert, pervert, pervert!" Haechan continues in a sing-song voice as you feel your eye twitch. You don't know why you told these two, not like they could offer any useful insight.
Before you can retaliate, Mark's shushing his friend. "I know how to fix this."
You listen because, really? How could Mark possibly know how to solve the inner turmoil brewing inside of you? What could make it all go away?
You admit. "I'm all ears."
"You need to get laid." He states, and your brows fuzz.
"Uh..." You trail, trying to figure out the nicest way to shoot him down.
"Not by us!" He responds, almost reading your mind, then turning around and pretending to puke in Haechans mini trash can. How mature. He comes back to his senses as he stands up again. "Come to a party with us and get fucked. It'll take your mind off of them, and anyways, I think this is just caused by sexual frustration."
Haechan pipes in. "He's right, you're just suffering from lack of dick."
"I slept with this dude named Mingyu like a week ago-"
Haechan stops you. "Shhh, Mark is always right! Right Mark?"
"Right!" And it's so strange how the two have been suddenly agreeing lately.
So you, almost unwillingly, find yourself attending a party with them that very night. Dressed in your tightest fitting dress and your nicest pair of lingerie. After about thirty more minutes of talking to you, they had you convinced your reeling horny thoughts were coming from sexual deprivation. You're sure they had brainwashed you, because seriously, you just had sex! This plan was dumb, but what else did you expect?
Though now, you're feeling stupid as your two friends subtly nudge Lee Jeno in your direction. God, you should've known those two were up to something.
You sip from your red solo cup as Jeno continues to shyly sell himself to you. He's telling you about his volunteer hours, his stellar sports stats, and his love for animals. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's interviewing for a job, and not just attempting to grab a hookup.
Your heart somewhat aches for the boy, he definitely was trying to make you his girlfriend sooner or later, and it was almost sweet. But even if you weren't currently enthralled by the idea of your roommates, you still wouldn't have seen yourself giving Jeno a chance. He wasn't really your type anyways.
Jeno excuses himself to pour another drink as you shoot glares at your two friends from across the room. Not that Haechan sees it though, he's too busy trying to feel up some poor girl who fell for his pick up lines. Mark looks intimidated though!
You pull out your phone in an attempt to discourage any others from approaching you, and are met with a notification from Jungwoo. You open the message accompanied by his cute little contact photo and try not to smile.
It reads, Hey! Doyoung attempted dinner, you should come join us.
Granted, the boys had no idea where you were or that you were being forced into yet another mission, but you just stick your phone back in your purse and scan the room again.
While Lee Jeno may not have been your type, looking for something far too serious to even let you consider sleeping with him, Liu Yangyang seemed to be just what you were searching for. With your luck, he'd throw you off to the side the next morning. You're relieved by the fact that's he's not known to be one for committing.
You're about to approach him when Mark meets your eyes, sending you a silent don't, basically reading your mind. God, why did they have to play wingman? And curse Mark for reading your mind! So you stay rooted in your place as Jeno returns, handing you a drink that you won't even be drinking from.
Doyoung's dinner would probably be more entertaining that this right now. "Hey, sorry. I think I'm actually gonna head home, I'm pretty tired." You let out, interrupting whatever Jeno was saying.
There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes before he smiles. "I can drive you home."
Your eyes dart to the beer in his hand, passing him a fake smile. "I'll manage, but thank you for offering!"
You ignore the silent pleas and texts from your friends as you exit and get into your car, thankful that you hadn't taken a sip of anything at that party.
A few minutes later and you're back home, deciding to ring the door bell so you're not faced with another situation.
Yuta opens it, smiling as he welcomes you home. You grin back as you slip off your shoes, starving for whatever you could find. "Is dinner ready?"
But your question is answered as you walk into the kitchen to see instant ramen packets scattered across the counter top as Jungwoo holds a bowl, and Doyoung frantically scrubbing at a burnt pan.
Doyoung pushes up his glasses with his shoulder as he's still elbow deep in the sink. "Dinner didn't exactly go as planned."
You giggle. "I see that."
"Want some ramen?" Jungwoo perks up, gesturing his chopsticks towards you when you nod.
"Promise you'll cook for us tomorrow?" Yuta asks, watching as the charred food doesn't let up from the pan. You make a face as well as you shake your head.
"Promise," You say, swallowing your noodles as you sit next to Jungwoo. "Sorry I was out, Haechan and Mark are trying to set me up."
Doyoung somewhat stiffens at the names. "Yeah? Take it that didn't go well?"
You sigh. "Well, he's an athlete and he's nice enough,"
"But?" Jungwoo finishes, knowing you weren't done. Well, he was downright hoping something was wrong with this mystery athlete, truth be told.
Good thing he was right. "But, I don't think I'm into him."
"Why not?"
"No particular reason," You lie, managing to avoid eye contact with the men that were your roadblocks to anyone else right now. How were you supposed to manage a decent lay while thinking about the three hottest guys you've ever seen at home?
Even now, without their makeup and sultry clothing, you think they look attractive as ever. God, you had it bad. With those stupid collard shirts and wire frames, you think they've never looked better.
"I think I'm going to lay off the parties for a few days anyway, midterms are in a week." You continue, knowing the men in front of you had been preparing for them these past couple of weeks already.
"Right," Doyoung nods, sleeves still rolled up as he dries his hands. "Wanted to warn you by the way, we're going to be filming on Tuesday."
"Got it, I'll study at Mark's." You pass, already planning in your head how to get Haechan's loud mouth out of the room long enough to get work done.
Jungwoo looks bothered though. "Or you could stay?"
You look up from your bowl. "Hm?"
"I've been thinking," Jungwoo starts. "This is your place too, you should be able to go about your business while we film. It's not like I haven't done homework while Yuta recorded a fleshlight clip in the next room."
His boldness paired with his vulgar language — which you were definitely not used to — catches you off guard.
"I wouldn't want to bother-"
"No, he's right." Doyoung stops you. "We can't send you off everytime we have something to do, unless it makes you uncomfortable?"
You pause, you shouldn't even be considering this! Not just because of your lack of self control, but also, wouldn't this be dangerously pushing boundaries? "Oh but Yuta doesn't even have his own room right now-"
"Look, if Yuta ever needs to push something out, he can use my room. Or you could just come chill in mine while we wait." Jungwoo offers.
But goodness, being in the same vicinity as any of them when they're doing such sinful things? How were you supposed to hold back? You'd be expected to talk to Jungwoo while Yuta moaned up a storm in the other room?
"Oh, I don't know." You answer, wanting to drop the topic for now. It wasn't getting any easier to talk about it anyways.
"Why do you seem so nervous about it?" Yuta leans in, eyes meeting yours.
You subconsciously lean back, he was definitely onto you. Too bad it was a little hard to fake that you didn't fight the subconscious urge every past night to google their names. "Oh, uh-"
"We'll drop it," Jungwoo shoots a glare at Yuta. "Sorry."
"It's fine!" You smile, pretending to be preoccupied with your ramen. Though your mind is on anything but those stupid noodles right now.
“No we won’t.” Yuta smirks, ignoring Jungwoo entirely. “What has you so worked up, rubbing your thighs together below the table?”
You’re caught off guard at his openness. “W-what?”
“I bet it’s not that athlete, is it?” Yuta leans, tone seductive, and something you had never heard before. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to bend you over the table in front of you.
You avert your eyes, wondering why everyone else had gotten quiet all of a sudden. You couldn't confront this right now, no you wouldn't! "I'll be in my room."
And with that you make a quick way for your temporary bedroom. Ignoring Jungwoo's call for your name as you close the door behind you. What the hell were you going to do now?
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Yuta knows he messed up, bad. Things had been tense in the house for the past few days, and you were more skittish than he had ever seen you. He wondered if you were spending time at Mark's place again.
That was Jungwoo's biggest nightmare, in all honesty. He wasn't sure what the nature of you and Mark's friendship was — and he didn't even want to think about it. You were gorgeous, you could have anyone you wanted! He had no doubt that your friends would fuck you if given the chance, if they hadn't already. He knows it doesn't matter who you're sleeping with, but it does make him feel jealous.
Doyoung remains indifferent, at least on the outside. He goes about his day as Yuta and Jungwoo lose their minds over how to return to their normal selves again. It affects him as well though. You were really close to all of them at one point, how had that changed in less than a week?
Doyoung just knows he wish things had went differently.
The sound of the front door opening alerts everyone in the house. Jungwoo's quick to jump up, greeting you at the front door. You smile back as you remove your shoes. You try to keep your composure as you ignore the men in front of you being dressed up. Ah, you forgot it was a filming day. "Today was so stressful."
"Really? Do you maybe wanna watch something in my room with me?" Jungwoo suggests, hoping he can attempt to ease things. "It'll help you relax."
You shrug, though you don't if you could handle the close proximity. It's already taking everything in you right now not to jump his bones in this hallway. "Why not?"
He mentally celebrates in his head, "I'll grab some chips and meet you in my room."
You nod, walking to your temporary room to change. Today really had taken a toll on you, and on top of it, you forgot you were coming home to your roommates alter-egos. Not that you were complaining, because you definitely weren't, but it had slipped your mind. At least Jungwoo wasn't being awkward anymore. Things were going back to normal, right?
You change into shorts and a simple t-shirt and make your way across the hall. You push open the door and see Jungwoo settled already on his bed, the tv already on. You and him to have movie nights in his bed during sleepovers, so this wasn't unusual. Finally, something was normal again. Even if now you were sexually attracted to him. Geez, could you get your head out of the gutter?!
You two watch the movie for a few minutes as Jungwoo starts to shift in his spot. You begin to grow concerned. "Everything okay?"
Jungwoo brushes you off. "I'm fine."
You furrow your brows. "Alright.."
It only takes a few seconds for him to break as he shoots up. He couldn't ignore it's presence, especially not with you in the room. The insinuation of the little red light on in the corner, as the two of you sat on his bed? It was taking his mind to places it shouldn't go. "I left my camera on my desk, its facing this way. Let me just put it up."
And with that he scrambles to his desk, shutting off the camera and tossing it in one of his desk drawers. He's frantic, and his mind is racing with how little you must think of him right now. "Sorry."
You shake your head. "Stop apologizing, it's fine."
Jungwoo covers his face with his hands as he leans against his desk. He breaks, "I can't keep pretending this isn't weird."
You had no idea he was losing his composure as well, you had thought you had been the only one blowing it out of proportion. But you didn't want him to feel ashamed. So you assure him, "I don't mind."
He moves his hands. "You don't feel weird?"
"Can I be honest, Jungwoo?" You ask, it was now or never. One more second of this back-and-forth and you were going to explode.
He meets your eyes. "Please?"
“It turns me on.” You blurt out, admitting the truth. And you can't believe it had came out so easily.
Jungwoo’s shocked as he fumbles over what to say next. “What?” 
It was too late to go back now, you had to say it. “I think it’s hot, Jungwoo, I think you’re hot.” 
Were his ears deceiving him? He prayed you weren't messing with him. “Really?” 
You giggle as you stand to your feet and he starts to feel stupid. “Mhm."
You continue to walk up to him as you place your hands on the desk behind him, effectively caging him between you. You had no idea where this boldness came from, but its likely he was drawing it out from you.
And he can't believe his circumstances. The girl he's been utterly in love with is leaning over him, in those tiny little shorts, telling him that he was the hot one? “So if I kissed you right now, you would-” 
You stop him mid-sentence as you bring your lips to his. It's reliving almost, the way your mouths slide together in synch. You had waited far to long for this to let him think he would take the lead. You wanted it far too badly.
He kisses you back, head dizzy with how much he wants you. Though he's laced with a feeling of uncertainty that he just can't shake off because what was this? Was this just a hook-up, oh he was getting ahead of himself. This was a kiss, who knew if you even wanted to sleep with him!?
He debates telling you right there, not letting another second go by where you don't know about his feelings. But he's scared, terrified even, of your reaction. So he savors the kiss, putting his hands around your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer together, if that was even possible.
You can feel your heart rate increasing as you lose your breath. You pull away slightly for breath as you and Jungwoo meet eyes. He's showing no signs of stopping though. Pulling you back in to meet his lips as gentle as possible, before kissing you with the hunger of a starved man.
He's devouring you, and he's not sure if he intends to stop there. He doesn't want to stop there, but he's completely blank on what you want. He separates, "We should stop."
You're hazy, drunk on the kiss as you eyes don't leave his lips. "Don't wanna,"
He stops you before you can go in again, squeezing your hips. He couldn't get enough of you, his body was craving you. "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."
You smirk, hunger in your voice. "Then don't."
He groans, you had no idea what you were doing to him. How long he had dreamed of this moment. "I need to know what you want."
The statement has a double meaning, almost daring you to spill out about feelings that he's not even sure you had. Was he ultimately just hurting himself? Likely.
Though you only catch one meaning, "I want you inside me."
And he'd be stupid to deny you that. He tries to formulate a response but you don't give him a chance. You lean closer, brushing your sex on his semi-hard on, "Need you inside me."
"Fuck," He rasped, as he moves his knee between your thigh. You moan out in ecstasy, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had barely even touched you and you're bitching like a dog in heat.
You lick your lips. "Jungwoo, I-"
The door swings open as Yuta and Doyoung peek in. Yuta shakes his head as he crosses his arms, Doyoung standing in complete surprise. The two of them stare as if they caught you doing something illegal.
"Well, what do we have here?" Yuta speaks as he takes in the scene before him. You and Jungwoo hadn't even bothered to separate, too caught off guard to even have time to think about hiding what you were doing.
You swallow hard. "We were just-"
"Just grinding on each other like horny teenagers?" Yuta finishes, smirking as he knows he couldn't have walked in at a better moment.
"Yeah, thanks for the invite Jungwoo." Doyoung comments sarcastically, and you're left confused.
Jungwoo immediately catches on. "No that's not what we were-"
Yuta doesn't buy it. "No use in lying about it."
"I'm sorry, what?" You ask, unmoving.
"Yuta thinks we're filming." Jungwoo elaborates, sighing.
"You're not?" Yuta asks, and Doyoung looks intrigued.
You shake your head, "We were just kissing anyways."
"Jungwoo's boner says otherwise." Doyoung snorts.
Yuta crosses his arms, "Were you really gonna fuck her without us?"
The words hit you, without us? Who was us? Yuta and Doyoung?
You stutter, flabberghasted. "Y-you guy's would've wanted to watch?!"
Yuta shrugs. "I'll be honest, that's more of Doyoung's thing. He likes to watch, he's into those cuck things. I, on the other hand, would've wanted to join."
Yet again, you're phased by the casual talk of this all. A few weeks ago you never would've thought your friends were so, nasty. The guys who avidly avoided woman, the guys who go all shy when you got too close, the guys who would rather be studying than anything else. You don't think you'll ever get used to how they talk now.
Blinking, you speak. "You want to fuck me?"
Yuta brushes hair out of his face. "Are you serious?"
"W-what? Why are you acting like it's a stupid question, you guys have never shown attraction to me." You state, moving off of Jungwoo, and he winces as the loss of contact.
Doyoung groans. "I don't think we could've been anymore obvious without downright saying it."
Was that true? Had you missed all the signs? "I had no idea."
Yuta scoffs, quirking his head to the side condescendedly. "Look at her face, she's telling the truth, she really had no idea what she was putting us through. And here I thought you were being a tease on purpose."
"A tease?"
"Oh come on, flashing me. Walking around the house in tiny shorts and no bra under your t-shirts." He names and you see how that could look.
You mutter. "Flashing you was an accident."
"Well it's no accident how bad I want to fuck you." Yuta replies boldly, walking closer. "So are you in?"
Doyoung pipes up. "If you don't want to, you can walk out now. I promise, thing's wont be weird, we'll be fine."
You think over Doyoungs words for a minute, before looking back at Jungwoo. "I-"
You turn back to the other two. "I want to."
Yuta smiles, and Doyoung speaks again. "Are you sure?"
Jungwoo grabs your hand in his. "We're not trying to pressure you-"
"Jungwoo, I've wanted this for longer than you'd think." You admit, pressure off of your shoulders.
Yuta breaks the moment, pure lust in his eyes. "Get on the bed."
You do as told, laying down on the bed in excitement at the thought of what the three men are going to do to you. You had no idea what to expect.
Jungwoo settles on one side of you, rubbing you through your bottoms. “Thought you were too good for me, honestly. I’m little loser Jungwoo, and here you are, a sopping wet mess under me.” 
“Told Jungwoo I wanted to fuck you the day we met.” Yuta reveals, seated on the opposite side. Yet, you're too caught up on his words. 
“Really?”
“Yeah, baby. Told him we should get you in a little video too, what would you have said then?” He responds, and you flutter at the nickname.
“I had already thought of the title.” Jungwoo smirks. “Slutty college girl gets her tiny hole stretched by nerdy math tutors.” 
“I’d pay to see that.” Doyoung comments, eyes locked on you. 
“Of course you would.” Yuta teases, gaze full of pure lust. 
You feel fuzzy already. “I-I would’ve said yes!” 
“Are you sure?” Jungwoo asks condescendingly. Just because he wanted this as bad as you didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. “I was just the nerd, remember? The nerd who watched you leave to get fucked by another guy while I was right here.” 
You moan out at his vulgar words going straight to your core. 
Doyoung takes a seat in the chair by Jungwoo's desk, seemingly content with watching. “We were all right here.” 
Yuta grins, hands pulling at your shirt. “I would’ve pounded you into my mattress the minute you asked.” 
You whine, the feverish desire taking over. “Wa-want that so bad.” 
“Yeah? Want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow?” 
You nod, overtaken with sheer desire.
Jungwoo suddenly leans down to capture your mouth in his, distracting how Yuta takes over and tugs your bottoms completely off. You shakily grab run your hands through his hair and he shivers when you touch him and gets slightly more aggressive with the kiss. He wants to be as close to you as he can, even if just for now.
You feel the air hit your bare cunt as you moan into Jungwoo's mouth. He smirks a little as Yuta shakes his head. "So wet just from a little kissing, who knew our friend was such a slut for us?"
You buck your hips off the bed, to which Yuta forcefully pushes your thighs back down. You're barely able to let out a yelp of surprise as the other male continues to meld his mouth with yours.
He’s clearly trying to keep the kiss going for as long as he can, he seems to be enjoying himself way too much. But you can't say you're complaining.
Jungwoo pulls off, moving his plush lips down to your neck as Yuta teasingly runs his fingers numbingly slow through your slit. "P-please stop teasing- umph!"
You're cut off as Yuta pushes a finger into you, quickly followed by another. He's agonizingly slow once again and you can barely handle yourself, "'S too much- too-"
"Oh so you want to give orders but when I follow through, now you're taking it back?" He moves his fingers inside you. "If you can't take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock?"
You moan at the thought of it, not knowing what he looked like under the belt should be considered pure torture, every other part of him was so alluring.
Jungwoo brings your attention back to him as he pulls your shirt up just enough to unclasp your bra, sliding both off with ease as you were too distracted to do it yourself.
"Your nipples are already so hard." He teases, though he goes to pinch one and that has you writhing. "Oh, they're even prettier than I imagined."
He continues to fondle one before putting his mouth on the other, sucking as Yuta continue to piston his fingers in and out of you, going faster by the minute.
You felt so good already, so overwhelmed that you weren't sure it could get any better, but oh were you so wrong.
You feel the familiar coil beginning to form in your stomach, unable to hold in your whines. "Don't stop, please,"
He doesn't, in fact he goes even faster. The pace matched with Jungwoo's mouth still on your boob makes you go dizzy fast.
Before you know it, you're feeling the coil snap and your release dripping out. But you were a fool if you thought they were going to stop.
Yuta continues to finger you damn near to heaven, Jungwoo's tongue jutting out to graze your nipple as he talks you through your climax.
But you're already halfway gone, "Want- want you inside,"
Yuta pulls his fingers out of you, and you clench around nothing as you whine at the sudden emptiness. Yuta doesn't seem too intent on giving it to you so easily though, "You want me inside?.. And what if I don't think you deserve it? What if I make you beg for it?"
You can feel tears well up in your eyes. "Please, please I'll beg. Please Yuta, I can't go another minute without your dick in me!"
Yuta smirks, satisfied with your response. He stands from the bed and pulls his shirt off, following by unzipping his pants. You watch intently as he does so, finally able to see his abs and that tattoo in all of its glory. You could feel yourself throbbing at the view.
"Condom," You whisper, almost like an afterthought, looking at Jungwoo. "Do you have any in here?"
Jungwoo nods, gesturing to Doyoung who sits by the nightstand. "Top right drawer."
Doyoung follows, throwing a package towards Yuta as he catches it before ripping it open with his teeth. Fuckkk that was so hot.
He wastes no time in sliding it over his length, positioning it outside your entrance. You hope he's about to enter but instead, like the tease he is, rubs your clit with his tip gently. Your body already trembling and he wasn't even inside yet.
"Beg," He commands as he continues his previous actions.
"Please! Oh please Yuta-" You chant his name like a mantra as he smiles down at you.
"Don't worry, I'll give you want you want." He speaks, pushing the plush head of his dick past your walls. "Not gonna stop till you're sore."
He continues to push himself farther in as Jungwoo rubs his thumb over your clit, how were they so in synch? Had they done this before?
Yuta finally bottoms out inside you, hissing as you clench around him. "Pussy so fucking tight for such a whore."
You groan as he starts to move, thrusting into you as you babble. Jungwoo's eyes land straight on where your tits bounce, obsessed with the view. God, he was gonna bust in his pants.
You can hear the slight tap of the headboard creaking as it hits the wall behind you, Yuta reaching up to grip it as leverage while he slams into you, and you're trying your hardest not to drool on Jungwoo's pillow.
The younger male smirks before he pulls you into a kiss, silencing your moans for the minute as his tongue explores your mouth.
You whine into Jungwoo's mouth as he continues to sloppily kiss you. Yuta never falters as he watches from behind, he never knew he could enjoy watching you so much. He's borderline obsessed with seeing you two make out while he's inside, he can't get enough.
Doyoung can't see as well from where he sits, but the sounds make up for it. The room filled with the sounds of your muffled moans and skin meeting skin, accompanied by Yuta's heavy groans and pants.
He's doing everything he can to not take his dick out and start palming it, convincing himself to just wait for his turn.
Yuta moved in and out of you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You cried out as the pleasure became almost too much to bear, body quivering beneath him.
He doesn't let up though, too keen on seeing your pretty face all scrunched up. You were shaking as his movements started to go deeper and deeper into you, there was no way you were going to survive this.
"You feel that baby?" He groans. "Feel how hard you make me?"
You just nod, too focused on the task at hand.
He keeps going, "Look how hard Jungwoo is, he's leaking all over his bed."
You'd love to see, but you can't bring your eyes steady enough to look towards him. Jungwoo lets out a quiet whine at Yuta's words, clearly embarrassed.
"Don't get all shy Jungwoo." Doyoung interjects. "It's cute seeing you so worked up."
You moaned, despite the words not being directed towards you. Doyoung voice mixed with Yuta hitting your g spot brought you directly to another realm of heaven.
Yuta felt his body tremble as his release began to build, his mind spinning as his pleasure reached its peak. He couldn't believe he was really getting to have you like this, in all his wildest dreams come true. His fingers dug into your hips, anchoring him to you as the orgasm started to take over.
You separated from Jungwoo as you started to feel the falter in the others thrusts while feeling a similar build up, managing to sputter out a "Are you close?"
He nods, "Are -shit- you?"
You can barely respond before Jungwoo's bringing your lips back to his. He never wanted to stop kissing you, he couldn't.
You suddenly felt your orgasm rush through her body, your entire body trembling with pleasure. You clung to Jungwoo, fingers digging into his arms as the intensity of the moment hit you.
You gasped as you came, body shaking with the intensity of it, breathing heavily as the pleasure slowly ebbed away.
With a deep growl, Yuta followed as he gave one final thrust and released into the latex. Mind incredibly hazy as he collapsed beside you onto the bed. Breathing heavy as you will your eyes not to close.
He stares at your fucked out face, proud of the little number he did on you. He knows this was likely his first and last chance to see you like this, so he was going to relish in it.
Though, others didn't seem to agree with the slower paced approach, Doyoung moving the other male out of the way to climb onto the bed.
Surprisingly, you try to push yourself up. Though, you're still too unsure to ask for what you want. "Can I..."
"Can you what?" Doyoung mocks after you don't respond for a few seconds. "Closed mouths don't get fed."
Who knew he could be so mean?
"Can I ride you?" You blurt out.
He smirks. "Is that what you want?"
You nod, "Fuck, please Doyoung."
He laughs, leaning back on the head board as he slips his pants down. "Be my guest, if you think you can still hold yourself up."
You place your hands on his shoulders as you wobbly throw your legs over Doyoungs lap before pausing, "W-wait,"
The others immediately halt, awaiting your words.
"Jungwoo's still so hard, and he hasn't touched himself. I should help him." You let out, starting at the male who you started this all with.
"Yuta's got it." Doyoung speaks, while the other male composes himself. "Right?"
The oldest smirks, wordlessly reaching over as Jungwoo's face grows red. He wraps his hand around the base of the youngers shaft and starts moving, kitty licking the tip as Jungwoo moans out.
"D-don't stop, I want to see you and Doyoung." Jungwoo gasps, locking eyes with you before squirming at Yuta's actions. It's not like it was the first time they had done this, but it felt so different every time, especially now that he was taking him wholly in his mouth.
You grow wetter at the sight of your roommates getting each other off, now you see why they like to watch so badly. Yuta looked so pretty with his mouth full of cock while Jungwoo moaned like a bitch in heat and clawed at his bed sheets. Not to mention that Yuta had grown hard again, his own hand snaking down to touch himself.
Doyoung lines himself up, his tip pushing past your walls as you slowly sink down. The stretch burning slightly even though you had been fucked already. You couldn't help but hiss, he was just too big.
You bounce a few times as Doyoung digs his nails into your hips. He's more quiet than Yuta, but less composed. You weren't sure he'd have much to say if he could manage to talk. The most you catch from him are quiet groans and deep breaths.
His eyes don't leave your cunt, directed towards where your bodies meet. He's never felt anything so good, not even his state of the art toys his viewers brought him made him feel this way.
“Need it off.” You mutter, reaching below you towards Doyoung’s cock. He hisses as you pry at the tip, harshly pulling the rubber condom off. You throw the item across the room, bringing your hand back to sink down on him as the other boys watch in awe. 
Jungwoo's quick to intervene, “But-”
“We’ll get her a Plan B.” Yuta reassures him as he comes up for air, and you take notice of the way Jungwoo’s face falls for some reason.
You continue bouncing as Doyoung grabs one of your boobs in his hands. You bite your lip at the feeling, mind already halfway to mush as you continue to spear yourself on his cock. “Feels so good.”
He growls as he meets your hips at an animalistic pace. He finally gains the reserve to speak. Teeth gritting, “You feel better than I imagined, slutty pussy dragging me in.” 
Jungwoo pushes Yuta's head down farther as the other teases, while the other gags at the action. The sounds of slurping register in your ears as you look back that way. You almost cum at the sight.
Jungwoo's face twists as he releases into Yuta's mouth, the latter swallowing it without a qualm. Jungwoo can feel himself growing hard again though. The squelch of your body parts melding together has Jungwoo's head spinning even though he already came.
Yuta snarks as he gets onto his knees, pushing his dick into the youngers face. "Your turn, put those pretty lips to use."
Jungwoo's eyes never leave your body as he opens his mouth. Now, if you thought Yuta looked good like that, nothing compared to how Jungwoo looked. So pliant and content to be helping his friend out.
Doyoung brings your attention back to him as he grabs your jaw, "I'm giving it to you so good that you're shaking yet you're staring at them instead?"
You shake your head, grinding down harder on Doyoung's dick as you stop bouncing, knees growing sore. "I'm sorry-"
He scoffs, grip tightening on your jaw. "No you're not."
"I-" You huff, hearing Jungwoo's pretty noises echo in your head as you fight every bone in your body to turn and look.
"Shut up," He cuts you off. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."
You nod as he thrusts up into you. You whine as he holds you in place, using you like a flesh light of his own design. All you can do is take it, feeling his tip kiss your insides with every thrust. Felt like he was rearranging your guts.
He pounds into you with such vigor that you wonder how he has the strength for it all. You try your best to meet his thrusts but he hardly gives you time to.
You would've never guessed the unbothered Kim Doyoung would be into fucking this rough. The more you know, you guessed.
You shout out, "I'm cumming!"
His speed doesn't falter, and he continues fucking you through your second orgasm of the night. He continues as you whimper at your sensitivity, hoping he was close.
"P-pull out," You sputter out, suddenly reminded that you two were going at it raw.
"I will," He responds, before he's moaning out. "Fuck, lift up."
"O-okay." You say, pulling yourself up slightly as his cock springs back onto his abs, covering his stomach in his release.
"That was so hot." You admit, sitting on the bed.
He blinks, "Yeah?"
You barely manage to turn as Yuta shoots his load out onto Jungwoo's face. His face looking ethereal as licks some of it off of his lips.
Yuta's about to say something when Doyoung speaks, "Yuta, lets go take a bath."
Yuta looks confused, not catching the others hint. "Now?"
Doyoung rolls his eyes, "So we can clean up."
"You're hard again, aren't you?"
The other shoots him a glare, clenching his teeth. "Let's go."
He basically drags the other out of the room as you two watch in confusion. Yuta bids, "See you later."
You stay quiet, unable to move without your body aching. Though you feel sudden energy to keep going as you look beside you.
Jungwoo leans over you and brushes your hair out of your face, and it feels more apparent that its just the two of you in the room. “You okay?” 
“I’m a little sore, but I’m fine.” You admit, wincing a bit as you move your legs in an attempt to sit up. Jungwoo shakes his head as he stops you though. 
“If you're not feeling okay-" He starts but you quickly shut him down,
You tilt your head. "But I've waited so long for you."
However, you can barely focus on his words as you take in his disheveled appearance. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. Again. 
He grabs your chin gently, lifting it up to kiss you more, and you can almost taste Yuta on him. He takes his time as you feel the urge to press up against him, ignoring the pain in your legs that the others left in their wake. 
“Baby, don’t tease me there.” He whines, stopping the kiss. 
Yet you don’t cease your actions, wanting to hear more of his needy voice. “I want you so bad, Jungwoo.” 
His eyes meet yours, hesitance behind them. “Really, are you sure?” 
“Unless you don’t to-” 
“No no, I want to.” He responds, meeting your lips again. He’s more sure of himself this time, hand snaking to touch your cunt.
You're one hundred percent sure you were in love with Jungwoo. But who was counting?
Before you knew what was happening, he was throbbing inside you. Your cunt spent from the other two, but so willing to take him in as well. He was much bigger than you imagined, but once he was inside you, it was like he lost all semblance of control.
You almost wanted to laugh, what happened to the Jungwoo that was being almost mean to you earlier? Was he so drained that he forgot?
He had you in missionary, long slow thrusts pressing into you as you whimper. He caged you under him, hand holding yours as he used the other for balance. He went in for another kiss again, soft like he was scared you were going to break.
Being with him felt different, of course the others felt good but there was a clear line drawn in the sand with them. Yuta was a performer, he got off to the others looking at him put on a show. Doyoung didn't seem like he was focused on you as much either, and was more about himself.
But Jungwoo? He seemed to be worried about you and only you.
"You're so pretty." He mutters, looking into your eyes.
"P-pretty?" You ask, his length still bullying into you.
"I think you're gorgeous." He confirms, wanting to go in for another kiss.
"Jungwoo..." You wrap your hands around his shoulders as you pull him closer. "I think I like you."
He looks shocked at this, pausing his strokes. "Really?"
You smile, "Yes, really."
"But I'm just me." He avoids eye contact. "You're out of my league and I'm just this dork who studies mechanics! And are you sure you like someone who films himself-"
You interrupt him with a kiss, slipping your tongue past his mouth as you only pull away when you need air. "I don't care about any of that, I like you."
He smiles, "If you hadn't noticed, I've had a thing for you since that day in class when you sat next to me. I was so bummed you weren't even in that class and was just hoping I saw you again."
"Well, I'm glad we found our way back to each other."
"Me too." He speaks before pressing his face into your neck, mumbling as he continues his actions.
You two continue in almost silence, basking in pure love for each other as only small whimpers echo throughout the room. Everything that needed to be said already had been. You two were definitely going to have a long talk after this.
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Living with the boys was no longer temporary, it was now your permanent place of residence. Especially since you had packed up your things and moved into your boyfriends room, granting Yuta access back to his room.
Things had been going well. Midterms went smoothly, Jungwoo was great (The sex was too), and you had landed that job you applied for!
You had even made an appearance in your boyfriends job, with masks of course, but nonetheless his viewers ate it up. Now they even sent comments in begging you to start your own channel, but you think you're far from that.
Things weren't awkward with the boys either, in fact, it feels good to have everything open in the air. There weren't any secrets anymore and things just felt like they were almost back to normal.
Breaking the news to Mark and Haechan was definitely... a scene. Mark was heartbroken on Lee Jeno's behalf while Haechan was more worried about how he was the only friend who hadn't gotten to tap that. To which Mark corrected that he hadn't either, which just led to a mess of a conversation.
People were definitely caught off guard when the news of you together broke. Many thought the pairing was funny.
Those like Haechan and Mark thought you had gone mad. And Jungwoo's studious admirers shuddered at how he could be with someone as provocative as you. Ha! If only they knew.
Jungwoo placed an object in front of you, proud of his efforts. "Here it is, the finished scale model."
You pick up the small jet in your hands, giggling at its design. "I love it, it looks like a tiny plane."
"It's a fighter jet!" Doyoung corrects as he joins you both in the kitchen.
You roll your eyes, "I'm aware, I helped paint the stupid thing."
"Stupid?" Jungwoo gasps dramatically.
"That's not what I-"
"Nope." He stops you. "Too late, the damage has been done."
"Jungwoo, don't be dramatic." You plead, though his eyes are already bulging out of his head.
He places his hand on his chest as he pretends to be hurt. "I'm going to go cry and throw up in my room."
"Dear lord," You begin before he runs off to his room. You've grown used to his antics by now. "Guess I have to go reassure him now."
Doyoung snorts, "Gross."
"Not like that, you pervert!"
"Who said I even was talking about that! You made it all dirty!" He retorts back when Yuta enters the room.
"Contrary to popular belief, we don't just fuck every chance we get."
"Tell that to my ears! You guys keep me up most nights, it's so annoying." Yuta complains. "The walls are thin, you know!"
You giggle, walking out of the room to find your sulky boyfriend as you shrug. "Deal with it."
The two watch as you're out of sight, Doyoung pouring himself water for his tea. He notices the look on the others face as he pats him on the shoulder. "You ever regret it?"
"Regret what?"
"Not telling her."
Yuta sighs, looking down before he shakes his head. "No. Jungwoo makes her happy, and that's good enough for me."
Doyoung chuckles, "We could switch rooms, if you want."
"It's all good, It's not that bad."
"You like listening don't you-"
"I'm going to slap you if you finish that sentence."
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factual-fantasy · 1 year
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So while I was looking through old Doodle dump canvases I found these random sketches of DJ, Moony and Sunny. I thought they were funny so I slapped some clean-ish lines and color on em and figured I’d post them! I don’t remember the context for them although I know some of them were related to real things that happened between my friends and I.. I think.
Also I would like to clarify that these were based on a joke AU where Sunny and Moony are two completely separate people. This is NOT cannon to my main FNAF AU. Daycare Attendant is 1 person in my main AU. Not two separate people in any way.
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mortemtheraven · 1 year
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“The Ghost”
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Pairing: Xavier Thorne x Addams! Reader
Summary: Y/n Addams has been keeping secrets to herself lately, emotional ones. When she was asked by a werewolf to a date, a certain artistic outcast found himself burning in jealousy.
Warning(s): Angst, insecurity, jealousy, curses, mention of death (reader's pronouns is she/her)
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"Well, isn't this place cheery?" You looked up at the sound of a slightly familiar voice. It belongs to a guy, the werewolf who you helped find the book he sought in the library yesterday. He has strawberry blond hair, slicked back and soft obsidian eyes.
You were writing in your journal about your usual deep dark thoughts, adding some doodles or sketches here and there to add more vivid gore alongside your choice of words. Other than that, you were hanging out at the back of the school, where the woods of Nevermore extends to a seemingly endless range.
You snapped the black book shut, startling the blonde guy. "Is there a valid reason for me not to leave you here and seek another solitary place?"
"My name's Mason, do you remember? The guy–"
"–who was finding the encyclopedia about Moon Phases, yes." You interrupted him.
Mason smiled in amusement. "Uh, good then. I just wanna ask you if. . . you're free this weekend? I wanted to return the favor of helping me yesterday by treating you out, maybe through a coffee date at Weathervane tomorrow?"
You went dead silent at his bold words, making him anxious whilst you stare at him with emotionless (e/c) eyes. The silence was deafening and he was just standing awkwardly in front of you, stuffing his fidgeting hands into his jean pockets.
After another minute of silence, you spoke. "Alright,"
Mason grinned brightly almost immediately, jumping on the soles of his boots. "Great! I'll see you there tomorrow. Is 9 AM, a good time for you?"
You merely nodded once before walking away and leaving him there alone.
While walking to your next class, you couldn't help but ponder about a certain artist in your mind. Things would be better if he was the one that asked you, not Mason. The werewolf is a nice guy, but you've been into Xavier since you and your twin sister Wednesday were ten years old. The first time you met him, he looked completely different. But his endearing personality and artistic skills made him your friend instead of someone you'd want to murder.
"Y/n! Where are you off to?" Speaking of the devil, Xavier jogged towards you as you passed by the quad.
"My next class." You didn't even stop to look at him, you kept a straight cold face and a quick pace.
"Something wrong?" You mentioned you weren't feeling murderous about him, well now you're taking it back. His constant obliviousness is irritating you to death. "Y/n?"
You suddenly stopped walking and faced him with an unreadable expression. "A boy just asked me out."
Xavier chuckled in disbelief. "Oh, I'm sorry for him."
"Why are you sorry?"
"Well I assumed you turned him down," When you kept silent, Xavier's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, you said yes?"
You nodded stiffly. "Indeed, I did."
Xavier scoffed. "Why?"
"What do you mean ‘why’?"
"Because you're not that type of girl who would date anyone."
"What do you know about what I want?" You muttered quietly.
Xavier nodded in disbelief, his jaw clenching. "So who's the lucky guy?"
"Mason,"
Xavier groaned, not him. "That stuck-up werewolf? Why?"
"He asked nicely despite being clearly intimidated by my mere presence."
"Y/n, believe me, Mason is a stuck-up jerk. He's probably up to no good."
"You're saying he asked me out with dark intentions? Hypothetically?"
Xavier rolled his eyes. "Yes, hypothetically speaking. But I'm almost a hundred percent sure that this date would end up badly in his hands."
"Who said he's in control?" You smirked coldly. "And if you know me that well, Xavier Thorpe, is that I'm into dark intentions. Whatever Mason's up to, I intend to find out."
You turned around and left him dumbstruck. Well, at least you have something to look forward to in this date. You're going to need a dress.
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Enid squealed, making both you and Wednesday wince unpleasantly. The moment the word "dress" slipped out of your mouth, the colorful roomie of your twin sister was ecstatic.
"I have a lot of ideas! Since you and Wednesday basically have the same taste of color palette, we're gonna go badass goth on you!" Enid immediately went through her wardrobe, finding anything black she could get her hands on. You doubt it though, considering that Enid's taste of colors basically resembles a rainbow.
"I can hardly believe you're going to this date." Wednesday clicked her tongue in distaste while you sat beside her on her bed.
"I'd like to call it an experimental game, besides, I heard that Mason is up to no good. Who doesn't wanna investigate dark intentions?" Wednesday smirked at your similarities, both curious Addams sisters. Except for the facial descriptions since you two are fraternal twins.
"Found it!" Enid held up a mid-thigh length dress, with leather skirt and a fitting top. Then she pulled out a pair of black leggings, matching black leather jacket and black combat boots. Why she owns such clothes, you don't know, but at least you found yourself satisfied with the style.
Minutes later, you were looking at the mirror with your sister and Enid standing beside you. Last minute doubt washed over you, maybe you just stay here in Ophelia Hall and not go on this stupid date. But you look really well-prepared, with your (h/c) hair tied into a fishtail braid.
"You look purr-fect! Totally ready for your first ever date."
"I suppose I should express my gratitude for lending a hand, Enid. So thank you." You said, turning the face the blonde girl.
"Don't mention it. Just have fun!" You just nodded at her.
"If he turns out to be a disappointment, I'm always up for grave-digging." Wednesday said, the edge of your lips turned slightly upward and you hugged her before leaving their dorm.
You went straight to Weathervane and ordered a cappuccino for yourself, sitting on the booth at the corner of the cafe. Turns out Mason is running late.
Your phone suddenly vibrated, so you dug it out from your black purse. It was Ciara, your witch roommate.
"Any particular reason for calling me?" You greeted.
"Y/n! You won't believe what I saw!" You immediately recognized Ciara's gossiping tone.
"If it's about another affair of two students you witnessed again, I will haunt you in your sleep."
"Worse! It's Mason, I saw him with another werewolf chic. And guess what?"
You exhaled and rolled your eyes. "Does it involve eating each other's faces?"
"Yes!" Ciara squeaked.
"Hmm," You sipped on your coffee calmly, feeling a blizzard of rage form inside your chest. "That explains why I'm finishing my cappuccino alone. Thank you for informing me, Ciara."
The line ended as you hit the red button. Mason Lee, you're gonna regret wasting my time.
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Xavier got bored scrolling through his phone in his room, so he decided to go to his shed where he usually paints and keeps his artworks. Up until now, he still couldn't believe Y/n went with that asshole. But why is he so infuriated? Why is he so bothered by the fact that she's going out with someone who's not him?
Passing by the quad, he suddenly stopped his tracks when he saw a familiar pestilent face. It was that ass Mason, making out with another girl that's definitely not Y/n. Xavier couldn't help it, the immediately bubbling anger drove him to lunge at Mason and hit his face multiple times.
Everyone present at the quad gasped in surprise, and Ajax along with some other gorgons hauled Xavier away from the badly bruised Mason.
"What the actual fuck, Thorpe?!" Mason yelled, wiping the blood from his bottom lip.
"Why the fuck are you eating another girl's face here when you should be with Y/n right now?!" Xavier attempted to lunge at him again.
"Chill out, man!" Ajax hissed, pulling Xavier's arms alongside his friends.
"Why do you care if I don't show up?" Mason asked, his tone cocky and challenging.
"Because Y/n doesn't deserve to be stood up by a worthless asshole like you!"
Mason laughed. "Why don't you just admit it, Thorpe? You're head over heels for her, but she can't even look at you that way."
"Say another word and I swear I'm gonna fucking kill you!"
"Oh yeah? She's just a weirdo, Thorpe, just like her twin. They're both freaks, even in this school for outcasts—" Mason's insults were interrupted by a bunch of squawking sounds.
Everyone looked as the painting of ravens from a wall in a hallway near the quad, peeled off and transformed into actual ravens. They immediately flew and swarmed Mason, nipping and clawing at him. Meanwhile, Xavier just stood nearby, his arms now completely free from Ajax.
"Xavier stop!" Ajax yelled, gripping Xavier's raised hand.
"Now what would my sister say?" With that familiar emotionless voice, Xavier snapped out of his raging thoughts and turned to see Wednesday standing with a look of faint amusement in her eyes. The ravens finally stopped tormenting Mason and went back to the wall, becoming only paintings again.
"Wednesday," Xavier said in shock whilst Mason kept groaning on the ground. Ajax and the others pulled him up, carrying him to the infirmary (probably).
"I must say, Thorpe, you got here first to punish that pompous pest before I could even finish digging a hole." Wednesday simply stated before turning her heels and walking away, leaving Xavier breathing heavily in shock for what he just did.
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You found yourself in Xavier's shed, calmly scrolling through his artworks. When you accidentally spotted a sketch of your face, you resorted to look for other drawings of yourself. Surprisingly, you found a lot.
The door suddenly slammed open and it took three seconds before someone asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Just sulking in self-pity and plotting my next move," You stood up from sitting on a stool and walked towards him. You spotted a little scratch on his cheek and raised an eyebrow, finally observing his frantic state. "What happened? You look like you've seen death flash before your eyes."
Xavier sighed in frustration. "Nothing! Just get out of my shed."
You crossed your arms and watched him take out a clean canvas. "Not until you tell me."
Xavier looked up in exasperation. "Fine, I got into a fight."
"With whom?"
It was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "Mason,"
"Why?" You asked, though you have already have your suspicions.
"Because," Xavier turned to face you with a face of anger. "He stood you up for some random girl!"
"And why does that concern you?" he couldn't believe what you're saying.
"Seriously? I was out there defending you—"
You cut him off. "I didn't ask for your help."
"You don't have to! That's what friends do, Y/n! But I suppose you never saw me as that, did you? You're always so persistent to be alone, you couldn't care less for people who actually wants you to be their friend."
You were silent for a bit before nodding and approaching a table full of his art materials. "You're right. And no, I never really saw you as a friend, Xavier."
You heard him scoff, then exhale as if he's so done. Done with you and everything about you.
"I could not. . . not when I want more than that petty title in your life." Xavier's head snapped up as he heard those words come out of your mouth.
"What. . ." Xavier ran a hand across his face in frustration and confusion. "Stop speaking in riddles, Y/n. What do you mean by that?"
You chuckled coldly. "After all these years, you still haven't figured it out. Back since we were ten years old in your godmother's funeral."
Xavier's chest started beating faster, his breath hitching at the suspense. It couldn't be.
"My whole life I've been the Ghost of the Addams Family, though not as literal as I would've preferred. I'm always so. . . not seen. My sister is exceptional at everything, my mother just as same, and I'm–" You sighed.
"I care too much than I should, care too much than I show. Xavier, I have a. . . certain fondness for you." It was the first time Xavier saw your pale (s/c) face blushing. He swore his heart would just rip itself from his chest by the way its beating erratically.
"So no, Xavier Thorpe, I don't exactly see you as a friend. "
Xavier heaved. "Shit, are you serious?"
You felt a lump in your throat. Maybe this was a bad idea. "If it makes you feel better, rejecting me—"
You were completely taken by surprise when you felt his slender hands cup your cheeks and his tender lips on yours. "—is not gonna happen," He murmured against your mouth, his warm breath mixing with yours.
"Ew, what are you doing?" You asked with curiosity in your eyes, pulling slightly away.
Xavier laughed, his eyes sparkling. "I'm kissing you. Haven't you kissed anyone before?"
"What do you think?" You raised your brow.
Xavier grinned widely. "Then I'm happy to be your first."
You tilted your chin up, eyes still cold and proud. "Do it again."
Xavier just shook his head with a chuckle and pecked your maroon lips multiple times.
"By the way," You said, pulling away. "I've seen your paintings of me, never really wanted to pry into your things but curiosity got the best of me."
Xavier turned red, coughing awkwardly. "Oh, um, yeah. . . I like you, Y/n. Way too much that I couldn't get you out of my head so. . . you became my muse."
"Hmm, creepy," You said nonchalantly. "I like that."
"Look, I can stop if you wa—" Xavier's words were cut short by your lips.
"If I find out you're playing with me, Thorpe," You said, breathing heavily with a threat laced on your voice. "I will personally make sure you die an agonizing death."
Xavier grinned and bit your bottom lip. "Wouldn't even dream of it, Addams."
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cowyolks · 2 months
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IN DEATH’S HANDS
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PART ONE OF TWO
Pairing: Grim Reaper! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader
Prompt: You survived that car crash. Despite all the doctors saying you should have been crushed like a soda can. It shouldn’t have been possible, but you had a strange suspicion it had something to do with the cloaked figure that followed you everywhere.
Words: 5.7 K
Warnings: Mentions of Death and dying, stalking, gore, car crashes, deception, protective Simon.
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You had considered yourself to be abnormal since you learnt to comprehend your own thoughts.
It started when you were little, sat politely on an old wooden pew, termite bitten and nearly rotting. Worn cloth was placed over the wood, proving little cushion or support. Odd and depressing music relayed through your ears, the mournful toon of an organ, and the slow chanting of hymns covered by sorrowful hiccups.
You were too small to register loss, to feel the grief of not seeing your grandmother again. So you sat, swinging your legs in a continuous loop, cheap pen held between your fingers as you crudely sketched upon a faded bulletin.
You drew your latest fascination, the black-robed figure that stood over your grandmother the last couple of days. Face covered and massive scythe in hand.
It didn’t speak, it didn’t grant you any attention, it didn’t even look to be breathing.
All it did was loom.
Something inside yourself screamed, instructing you to not draw any attention to its haunting aura. To avoid the blowing shadows of its cloak and not stare at the chilling gleam of such a powerful weapon.
It cornered your grandmother once you left the house, tiny hand holding onto your mother as she took you back home after her shift at work.
You were the one that found her, body still and cold as you went to show her your new toy. You called for your mother after she wouldn’t answer from your tugging on her frigid and stiff fingers.
You were beyond confused when your mother ushered you away, shutting the door behind your grandmother and letting fat tears fall down her cheeks.
Later, she had told you that you wouldn’t see grandmother again, that she was dead.
But as life goes.
People live, they flourish, they attempt to imprint their memory into the hearts of others before they are stomped out like wilted roses.
Death was nature, something that always occurred and a stone-cold constant that no one could best. Yet, it still didn’t describe the dark wordless figure that followed you, or the fact that you were older but hadn’t shown any signs of aging since your 25th birthday.
While your friends, the same age as you, began to grow grey hairs with soft crows feet imprinting their skin.
They always asked your secret, and all you could do was shrug, truthfully you didn’t know.
Candlelight flickered eerily in front of your face, a large three and two placed gently down on the table by your generous coworkers.
You likely wouldn’t eat the chocolate cake, seeing as you were still working and all. You never ate in the morgue. It was a superstition that just felt right, you couldn’t see yourself taking sustenance when the corpses couldn’t.
“Make a wish!” Dana clapped her hands together as her and Mark finished the last chorus of Happy Birthday. You didn’t believe in wishes, but regardless the candlelight made you twitch, not liking the idea of fire being around all the embalming chemicals in your office.
You blew them out perhaps too quickly.
“What did you wish for?” Mark asked, leaning closer with a curious glint in his eyes. He liked you, it was rather obvious from his puppy dog eyes and the fact he politely asked you out this weekend. You always found some excuse for his advances, not looking for a relationship.
He was good looking with curly dark hair and forest green eyes. Certainly a reliable worker as well, someone who was kind while also getting the job done.
You should have been happy to hop in a relationship with him, at least maybe go on a date or two. But something in your mind always made you hesitate. Perhaps it had something to do with the looming figure always stepping closer when the two of you spoke.
“Aren’t I not supposed to tell?” You asked lightly, shaking your head when Dana offered you a slice of cake.
She huffed, but knew of your rule. Instead she handed it over to Mark, who happily took a small bite with the flimsy plastic fork. He swallowed, “I guess not. Do you have anything planned for your birthday?”
He shifted a few inches closer, the movement didn't make you uncomfortable. Actually, it was almost comforting to feel the warmth of his skin through your white coat.
"No, I was going to order takeout." You shrugged.
Birthdays had always left a bitter taste in your mouth. It was one year closer to death, one year closer to being put on a cold table and embalmed like you did to constant others.
The cloaked figure swayed at your revelation, as if it could actually hear what you were thinking. Your eyes briefly caught on the bleach white of bone, the color contrasting against the hood like a mask. Maybe it could hear what was going on in your head?
“Well, you have to go out for your birthday!” Dana insisted, pointing the dirty spatula towards you in disbelief.
You sighed in displeasure. Honestly, eating greasy takeout and watching cheap rom coms sounded better than going out, but the look on Mark and Dana’s faces had you pondering as you pursing your lips.
“Fine. But I want to be home by eleven,” you grunted, watching as your two coworkers tried their best not to burst in excitement. You were so engrossed in their expressions you missed the chilled sweeping of black fabric.
It came so abruptly you couldn’t help but let out a little yelp, the coldest sensation you had ever felt had settled upon your flesh. It took a moment to catch your breath, the frostbite-like pain shooting through every nerve until it zeroed upon your wrist. Teeth gritted, crunching down on the crowns. You glanced down in horror at bleached bone—resembling of human phalanges, connected to the cloaked figure who loomed over you like a chilling shadow of dread. Like cutting thorns and blood-suckling leeches.
Not even a gasp or inhale could escape your body.
It’s the first time the specter had acknowledged you, just as it was the first time you had really engaged with it, round eyes meeting the shadow beneath the hood.
Frosted eyes flashed, so ghoulish and hair-raising you were sure you’d faint. The bones around your wrist tightened, before the figure stepped back and muttered something so low you could not hear, but could only feel the rattling vibration of sound against your quickening pulse.
“Hey! You okay?”
With a snap much like a rubber band, you flew back to reality, rounded eyes settling upon the chocolate birthday cake. A quick exhale, and you fell backward against the chair, huffing.
“Uh yeah, I just…I don’t feel well.” You managed to explain to a hovering Mark, who now stood in the same spot as the figure.
His lips pursed in concern, his large hand going to gently cup upon your forehead, feeling for a fever. He was too kind for his own good.
“You feel ice cold, go take the rest of the day off, I’ll pick up where you left off.” He voiced, removing his palm and placing it nervously upon his knee. You sighed, not enjoying the thought of taking a sick day, regardless of almost being done.
“Don’t even think about staying, we expect you to get some sleep and be ready to leave to go party at 7.” Dana tutted motherly, as she always tried to do when you worked too hard.
With a final huff, you nodded, going to stand up shakily.
“Do you need a ride home?” Mark asked, still attempting to conceal some of his worry. You shook your head, already feeling guilty about leaving in the first place. "Uh, no, I can walk. Besides some fresh air could do me some good." You offered, before hesitantly placing your hand upon the door after grabbing your bag from under your walnut office desk.
"Are you su-"
"Go," Both Mark and Dana spoke, echoing thorough the small office. You let out a weak chuckle. "Okay."
You stepped out of the mortuary, shielding your eyes from the beating sun. Little breeze blew throughout D.C, but despite it, you were happy to be out in the heat, away from the chilling freezers that kept the bodies from prematurely rotting.
It was a short walk home, through the very busy streets, so you felt comfortable enough around all these people to not get kidnapped or robbed. You lived in your small condo off the Potamic, high enough you could see boats cross the dirty rippling waters.
You huffed, beginning to make your way down the cracked sidewalks without completely losing your mind. Whatever the creature was, it had made a point to grab you, to suck all the warmth from your flesh in its threat. The cloaked figure had never acknowledged you besides the cool stares it occasionally froze you with... but this, this was an entirely new playing field.
In this case, you couldn't help but to feel like a pawn instead of a king.
You startled as you felt a shoulder bump against your own, knocking the wind out of you and having you fall back onto your ass. You collided with the rough cement, your tailbone throbbing in retaliation. What a birthday you were having.
"Hey! Watch where you're-" you cut yourself off as you glanced upward, behind the complaining stranger you had collided with. There the figure appeared again, this time levitating near the steps of an old library, one you frequented in.
The figure's hood was pushed higher than it typically was, skeletal features barely visible, but pearly eyes like freezing blizzards bit back into your own stare. You stood there for what could have been hours, perhaps even years before the robed figure moved. His head declined at an angle, a gesture most commonly associated with 'follow me", before it floated into the library.
You blame your constant curiosity and yearn for the unknown for taking a hesitant step forward, up those familiar crumbling steps.
Immediately you are hit with the aroma of coffee beans and printed paper. Before this scent would comfort you, now it leaves you on edge. Your head was on a swivel, searching for the robed creature, but when you couldn't find him, you deflated in surprising defeat, why were you upset you couldn't find a ghost no one could see but you?
You took a left down the historical aisle, one of your absolute favorites. It was fascinating learning of different cultures and how they viewed death, how they mourned and what religion they practiced. Would it be heaven, resurrection, eternal damnation as a deity or God dragged you to a version of Hell?
Could it be Thanatos, or Hel, or maybe even.....
A heavy book dropped to the floor, as if it was pushed on its own. The dark cover mocking you with words red like crimson.
The Origin of Reaping.
The Grim Reaper. A deathly figure everyone seemed to idolize in horror movies, tv shows, and comic books. Kids dressed up as him for Halloween, swinging plastic scythes at their siblings. The figure was even in Sunday morning Cartoons.
Your mysterious figure happened to have a few too many of the same characteristics, as impossible as it sounds.
With a final glance around the section, making sure no one saw the book fly magically to the ground, you picked it up by the beaten spine, shuffling over to a cushioned seat and sitting with a quiet exhale.
You opened it randomly in the middle, a particular passage catching your attention,
Reapers can come in many forms, some even taking shape of a persona their prey finds to be most attractive, as this likely assists in retrieving souls. Other modern depictions display a dark cloak and iron scythe used to reap.
Your mouth was left agape with every word you read, the impossible pieces carving into place in your mind, despite how crazy it sounds. You flipped another page, eyes drinking in the text as if you were parched.
It is said that Reapers are only seen when their prey is close to death. Although there is some occasion of ‘seers’ appearing throughout history. It is said that seers could spot certain deities since birth or a tragic event. In history, Edgar Allen Poe, William Shakespeare, Frida Kaleo, Queen Mary I, and many others all reported seeing signs of reapers or beings with similar characteristics.
Seers often can predict who dies with their ability of watching a reaper touch its prey. No one knows why they're able to see what they do, but the gift is sought out by thousands for the unique information of knowing how and when death will occur.
Your knuckles were growing white amongst the yellowing pages at every passage you read, gathering more of an understanding in these last 10 minutes than you had your whole entire life. But why? Why would your reaper lead you here, to learn more about him?
With a final turn you eyed a last passage, the font in a starling bold,
If one suffers the touch of a reaper, it will only be a short period of time before death.
A frozen chill set over your body again, throat constricted and unmoving as no air expelled from your lungs. The deity had touched you, the bony fingers clutching your wrist in a permanent sentence. Your limbs were frozen as the world seemed to disappear, the very air drowning. You were going to die, and soon.
"Hey, love. Alrigh' there?" A deep Mancunian accent startled you from your shock. A tiny yelp left your tightening throat, breaking you out of your trance as you glanced upwards to the voice.
He was undeniably handsome in a ruggish way. He was by no means pretty, but captivating enough to distract you for a moment. He had light hair, stubble covering his scarred face and framing his smashed nose that had been broken one too many times. His eyes were a rich brown, devoid of emotions, despite the fact that he had just voiced concern. He was dressed sloppily, dark sweats hanging low from his hips and a black hoodie to match.
Rugged, but certainly your type.
“Oh, ummm.” You blinked, falling back into the present with your cheeks burning from your blunt stare. “Yes, yes I’m fine. Just… it’s been a long day.”
His head bobbed, tongue licking his dry bottom lip quickly. “Aye, it has, hasn’t it?”
You chuckled nervously, never one to enjoy speaking to strangers or engaging in small talk. The man seemed to connect the dots, but still, he held out his hand, visible calluses littering his large palm.
“Simon.”
You nodded, reluctantly saying your own name before hesitantly reaching out to grip onto his hand. As your warm skin brushed upon his, you jolted, feeling the same icy cold temperature that led you to your crazed state in the first place.
Your eyes rounded, just as Simon’s eyes flashed in curiosity. You ripped your hand out of his grasp too quickly, standing before your legs could catch up to your body.
"Uh, it was nice meeting you, Simon. But I have to go."
He nodded, further displaying the scar running down his cheek and ending near his lip. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you again, this is my favorite section, and one of my favorite books." His deep voice bided goodbye warmly, although you couldn't stop your hairs from raising and your pulse from skyrocketing like hiding prey.
"Right, well goodbye." You lowly spoke, plastering on a fake smile before rushing to leave the aisles and head for your apartment to rest. As you walked home, you couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, dread filling every nerve of your body.
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The annoying buzzing of your alarm woke you from your sleep, something you had desperately needed. Your hand slapped the off button, effectively killing the noise. You felt better despite the twilight that had already set in. Darkness had flooded into your bedroom, the moon illuminating the river, casting eerie shadows across your wardrobe and bookshelf.
With a sigh, you pulled back the silk covers, yawning and stretching before making your way to your walk-in closet.
Your phone's ringtone rang through the small space, making you jump and realize just how paranoid you've became.
"Hello?"
"Hey, how you feeling?" Dana's cheery voice broke through the device, making you relax slightly.
"Better, I got some rest. When are you picking me up?"
"Oh, I'm not. Mark is."
You sighed, but couldn't stop the gentle smile that fell onto your lips. It came as natural as it could. "You set me up.” You put the pieces together. “Are we still going to the same place?"
"Of course, I'm not that mean. What are you wearing, birthday girl?"
“Haven’t thought about it. Probably just a nice blouse and jeans.”
You could hear her scoff through the phone, an offended tut escaping as well. “Hell no, it’s your birthday, and the last time you wore a dress Mark was basically drooling, and I’d love to get a picture this time.”
A short laugh huffed out of both of you, just as your fingers trickled further back in your closet, feeling the fabrics of the dresses you only wore for conferences and the occasional luncheon.
“I’ve got this black one, short and sparkly, you’d like it.” You informed Dana, pulling the dress from the hanger and holding it out to inspect.
“Perfect! I told Mark to pick you up at seven, so better hurry!”
You checked your phone, white font glowing, 18:09. You had about fifty minutes give or take. That was plenty for someone who rarely cared about appearance.
“See you there.” You bided farewell before clicking the red button, effectively cutting off the call.
It took little time to get ready, slipping on the dress that just nearly passed your ass. This one, you decided, was from your rebel years as a teen. Now you’d never wear anything that short or revealing as it pushed against your breasts.
You lightly dusted some make-up across any blemishes, and did your hair as best as you could before snatching your purse. Eyes flickered around the condo, making sure there was no sign of your ghoulish companion.
Thank God—he wasn’t there.
You hobbled, slipping dark stilettos upon your feet, making sure to not completely trip down the stairs as you spotted Mark’s navy BMW sitting at the curb. The man popped out of the driver’s side as you approached, mouth visibly popped open at your difference in wardrobe.
He looked quite handsome himself, an ironed white button down cuffed at his forearms, and black slacks accenting the whole look. He’d done his hair, styling it perfectly to accent his handsome green eyes and rich olive skin.
"H-hey, wow." His hand went to the back of his neck, likely rubbing the nervous sweat that gathered there. It was cute, in a childish crush kind of way. He opened the passenger side door, gesturing for you to step in. "You look beautiful." He sighed out, as if it was taking all his strength to spit out the words.
You chuckled brightly, daring enough to reach upwards and kiss his stubbled cheek, smelling the addicting bergamot cologne he wore. "And you look handsome." You climbed into the car, relaxing against the cool leather seats and smoothing your dress as Mark shut the door behind you.
As he opened his own door and climbed in, you could see the cute dusting of red on his cheek.
You sat in comfortable silence, riding for nearly ten minutes before you arrived at the small pub Dana had always spoke of in high regard. It was proudly Irish owned, known for having the best Shepherd's pie in all of D.C.
Perfectly your scene instead of a busy and loud nightclub.
Mark pulled the car into park, huffing a sigh before he turned. "Ready for some fun?" A soft smile was easy to come by, as was the aura of feeling safe in his presence.
"Only until eleven." You reminded him with a smirk, you could change your clothes, but you couldn't change who you are.
"Only until eleven." He repeated, amusement coating his words as he turned the key and stepped out. You opened the door after him, stepping beside him before making your way inside.
Immediately the whiff of beer and sweat flooded your senses, making you wrinkle your nose in protest as you adjusted. Mark let out a little cough, seemingly adjusting as well.
"Do you see her?" You yelled over the live band, hoping to spot the long braids Dana always styled to perfection. Mark, being taller than most, easily spotted her, "I see her!" He shouted, lightly going to grab your hand in his, the warmth of his skin welcoming.
Both of you weaved through people until you reached Dana, who was viciously guarding two barstools next to her. "Fuck off, dude, I already told you these spots are taken!" She snapped, poison dripping off her words as she glared.
"Easy..." you deescalated the situation, watching the man storm off as you took the seat at the end, Mark sitting in the middle. "Hey, you made it!" Dana's mood automatically switched, a cheery and blinding smile once again on her face.
She automatically reached over, pushing a red shot towards you with a giggle. "Get started, I've been waiting to see you hammered for like five years now."
"Alright, Alright." You giggled as well, picking up the shot and downing it only with a slight wince. It’s been way too long since you’ve partied.
“So, Mark, what do you think of the Birthday Girl’s outfit?” Dana quipped, obviously wanting to see the man’s cheeks glow red. It worked, his cheeks warming and pupils dilating.
He cleared his throat after taking a sip of his beer, "I see what you're doing, asshole. And for your information, she looks beautiful, I already told her that."
"Asshole? How about you come play this asshole in pool?" Dana challenged, a smirk on her red lips as she glanced back to you with a playful expression. "Wanna play too? You can partner up with Mark, he'll need the help."
Mark flicked her across the forehead, a small smile pulling at your lips at her muted ‘ow’.
“Go ahead and play, I'll stay here and play the winner." You compromised; far more interested in people watching anyways.
"You sure?" Mark asked. Your heart fluttered at his concern, but you nodded anyways. "Go ahead." You vaguely heard the trash talk from Dana as the two of them left to find a table and scavenge for quarters.
A sudden brush of leather scraped across your bare shoulder, the cool material causing goosebumps to spread across your flesh as you turned, a scoff escaping you as you noticed two more barstools open and the stranger took the one next to you instead.
"Whiskey." His deep voice sounded oddly familiar, as he adjusted on the seat, legs spreading wider as his kneecap bumped into yours. An annoyed huff left you as you scooted a couple inches away, so your ass was nearly hanging off the seat.
"What kind?"
"Irish, one for the lady as well." His head tilted to you, just as you caught a glimpse of the familiar light hair and raised scars from earlier. The man in the library, Simon.
"Oh, thank you." You awkwardly mumbled, settling for fiddling with your thumbs under the table. His eyes, the color of coffee beans crinkled, visible amusement dancing between the flickering lights.
"Welcome, dove."
The bartender set the two glasses in front of you, happily taking the green bills Simon offered. You watched as he gripped the glass, hand swallowing the material as if it were puny. He extended it to you, offering a toast. You picked up your own glass of amber liquid, if only to spare you the embarrassment.
"To life, we all have it, and sometimes it may kick us down. But here's to kicking it back." The glasses clinked, and you swallowed the alcohol with a cough. Simon's jaw ticked as he swallowed his, no wince visible, or even the twitch of an eyelid.
You wiped your lip softly, careful not to mess up your lip gloss. "So, what's the coincidence of finding you in two random places all in one day?" You joked, but honestly wanted to know the answer, to breakdown this stranger just as you did in the morgue.
"I like this place, reminds me of home." He gestured vaguely, his deep voice mellow and calm. "Where's home?" You questioned, interrogation being one of your many bad habits, it's a wonder how Dana and Mark even became your friends.
"Manchester."
"This is an Irish Pub." You deadpanned.
"Clever bird." He matched your sarcasm, something you found shamefully attractive. "Ireland is closer, eh? And don't tell a soul, but the brew is better there." A deep chuckle rumbled through him, his hefty shoulders vibrating with the sound. He was massive, muscle rippling off of him and filling him out, despite his tall appearance.
And his accent.
"Your secret is safe with me."
His lips ticked upwards for a moment, before dropping again. "So, what brings you to a place like this? Quite a different scene from the library."
"It's my birthday, my friends wanted to celebrate."
"But you didn't, eh?"
You sighed, nearly startled by how well this stranger could read you. lips pursed, you glanced at him through your eyelashes, then turned to see Dana lining up a shot as Mark strategized his next move.
"No, not really. But I haven't been feeling myself lately, I thought it would help to go out. To feel again, to know that I am here." An embarrassed chuckle escaped you, "I'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that."
Simon shrugged, "I've heard worse."
A loud celebratory cheer broke out, you turned spotting Dana pumping her fist after hitting the 8 ball in. Mark huffed in defeat, forest eyes latching to you with a soft smile. Wanna play? he mouthed over the music.
You shook your head, gesturing for the two of them to play again. Mark frowned but didn't push on the matter. You sure?
Yes. You mouthed back, before turning back to Simon, cold eyes watching the scene unfold in curiosity.
"That man really likes you." He observed, rough fingertips tapping on the table, if he pushed any harder you were sure it would cause the wood to indent.
"Oh, yes. He's a great guy, handsome and kind. Smart too, he just..." You trailed off, chewing your lip as you tried to ponder for a word to say that wasn't too harsh.
"He doesn't give you that spark. Of excitement and mystery." Simon finished for you, tilting his head downwards as he studied your expression. You hummed, heart beating a little faster at the revelation.
"And you could?"
"I didn't say that, Dove."
Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment rippling down your spine at such an accusation, and how he had been so quick to make you to squirm. He knew exactly what he was doing, and you felt the sudden sense to get up and go play a game to avoid more teasing.
"Needa smoke, want to come out with me?" He offered just as you were about to stand and walk away. You struggled, wondering if you should run like prey, or put your hands into the beartrap and hope it didn't close on your bones.
"Smoking is bad for you." You quipped but followed behind his heels like a wounded puppy. A chuckle vibrated through him again, teeth flashing as he held the door open for you. "And I know it."
You stepped out into the chilly air, a pleasant change compared to the stuffy bar. Your arms wrapped around your waist; elbows leant against the rickety iron railing. Simon fished in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter with an exhale. A quick flick and a flame sparked, settling upon the paper as the scent of tobacco aired.
He placed it between his lips, the red cherry glowing before he released, exhaling smoke from his nose and mouth. You'd think it was hot, if you couldn't smell it, or know how bad it was for him.
"So, what's your story, oh mysterious stranger?" Your heels pinched at your feet, you couldn't wait to get them off and back into slippers. Another exhale of smoke as he glanced down, the lamppost catching the reflection of his eyes, making them look almost white.
"No story. Joined the British military when I was 18, retired, here I am." He spoke with amusement, as if it was the funniest thing in the world. It wasn't, the military was no joke, just death and bullets, and if they happened to survive, they could still hear those bullets at home.
"It takes guts to serve, a lot of death." You sympathized, knowing it would be impossibly hard to watch the people you called brothers and sisters die in horrendous ways.
He took a drag on his cigarette, a slow nod of his head signifying that he heard. He flicked the dying bud to the ground.
"It takes a lot to do your job too. A mortician is a serious job, espically after seeing so much death in your family." He related; words sharp as a knife. Your blood ran cold as he spoke, never once had you mentioned your job, or the death of your parents and grandma, he shouldn't have known.
Muscles froze, heart beating nearly out of your chest as you glanced up at him. Your mouth was left agape as you stared.
What was once a warm body with handsome scars and bulky muscles now stood a black cloaked figure, skeletal bone, and white glowing eyes.
It was him, the Reaper. And oh, how it had tricked you.
A scream was crawling up your throat ready to expel until you heard his voice.
"Listen to me, Dove. I've followed you all your life, and I've never hurt you. But we are out of time." His voice was the same, still Simon's, even as those glowing eyes bore into yours.
"How is this happening?" You muttered as you squeezed your eyes shut, going as far as pinching yourself until freezing skeletal fingers gripped your chin.
"Listen. I know you read the passages in that book. I made sure you did, so you know since I touched you, it’ll be over soon. You have to keep yourself safe.” he squeezed your face, not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you pop your eyes open and listen closely.
“Why’d you touch me then? Why are you even acknowledging me if you’d ignored me all my life?”
“I’m just a soldier, dove. I don’t make the rules. Seers, they’re destined to find us, to make our hearts beat again. The higher ups don’t like that, so we are told to kill anyone like you.”
Your heart beats faster, knowing this was enough weird to send you straight to a psychiatric ward. What did he mean make his heart beat again?
“Hey! Stop touching her!” A familar voice broke out through the buzzing of the street lamps. Skeletal fingers dropped from your chin, just as the two of you turned to face Mark, his jaw clenched and fury in his eyes.
“Mark, no-” you started, watching in horror as he stormed Simon, forcibly pushing him away from you, even though he barely moved an inch. Your heart dropped, knowing the damage was somehow done. Mark had touched a Reaper, and now he would die. He shouldn’t have been able to see him in the first place.
“Fool, what have you done?” Simon growled, now back to his human form to spare Mark the shock, dark eyes nearly black in the night.
“Seriously dude, what I have done? I’m not the one harassing women.” Mark hissed, looking small despite his height as he squared up to a reaper. Simon inhaled, chest puffing even larger than before, a nonverbal threat.
“He-he touched you.” You whimpered, eyes watering with salty tears, one threatening push and they’d fall. Mark, sweet Mark, he didn’t deserve this.
Mark’s head tilted, taking his eyes off Simon, always one to check on you instead of worry for himself. His features softened, if only for a moment.
“Cmon, we’re leaving.” He spat through gritted teeth, sending one last wicked glare to Simon before he turned his back, gently grasping your wrist and steering you away from Simon.
Before Simon could utter another word, Mark had steered you to his car, keys in his grasp as he unlocked it with a stab of his finger. You’d never seen him like that, anger flooding off of him. You weren’t sure if he’d send you sinking to the depths after him.
The key slotted into the ignition, engine roaring to life as he reversed speedily.
“Put your seat belt on… please.” Mark spoke through slotted teeth, pulling out of the parking lot and into the nearly vaccant roads. You gulped, but otherwise reached behind you to pull the belt into the slot with a latch. Your hands shook, adrenaline being your enemy as you couldn’t stop your rapidly beating heart. What if this was how you died? Your heart beating out of your chest.
“You can’t just disappear like that, I was worried sick. I love you too much for something to happen to you.”Mark expressed, taking his eyes off the road for a moment, only to frown at the horrified expression on your face. Perhaps he overstepped, but you weren’t thinking about that, only about the person he was about to run over, standing right in the middle of the road.
“Look out!”
It was all a blur, the swerving, the uncontrolled movements of the tires. It was poetic in a way, the man you had at your heels had just torn his heart out, only for it to bleed as the vehicle crashed.
You gasped, black coating your vision as bent metal pinched at all your sides. Metallic blood scented the air as tv static coated your brain.
The last thing you saw, as your vision turned black, was glowing white eyes and bleached bone.
394 notes · View notes
ambrozjas · 2 months
Note
reader x gang request 🫶
Reader that can crochet making a sweater for the gang? (separate)
You don’t have to do and if you do, thanks 💓
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the gang x reader that can crochet ꨄ︎
✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ
sorry i haven’t been posting as fast lately, this one took some time and i put MUCH LOVE into these blurbs, so i hope you guys enjoy xoxo 💕
✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ
some curse words, alcohol, a mention of a threading needle, let me know if i missed anything though !!
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
“what’s this?” DARRY asked, holding up a maroon crocheted sweater that he found in a box under your bed.
your head snapped to the sweater, remembering the night you spent hunched over a table, weaving a needle delicately through the yarn, sewing them together.
“oh, uh.. it’s a sweater?” you mentally facepalmed, of course it was a sweater.
darry just chuckled and turned it around, analyzing it and every little fiber of its material.
“i mean, did you make it?” he asked, blue eyes gazing at you. your face heated up under his stare, darry always seemed to hold this forward eye contact that nobody could beat.
“yeah, made it f’you actually.” you said, continuing to iron darry’s work shirt and directing your attention to cleaning.
a silence passed between you two for maybe ten seconds before darry let out a small, “ain’t that somethin’?”
“shut up.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“hey SODAPOP, let me talk to you for a sec.” you said, walking in front of him with your hands behind your back. he was on the couch, his attention now on you rather than the television.
“what is it, darlin’?” he inquired, a smile being brought on his face just from the sight of you. the corner of your eyes crinkled as you grinned, “made’cha something.” you said.
“that so? what is it?”
you brought your hands out in front of you, only to reveal in your hands a small crocheted pony, it had a golden brown yarn for its coat and black for its mane and tail, resembling sodapop’s old horse mickey mouse.
you knew how much he loved that horse, and how devastated he was when it got sold. even if it was definitely an ornery horse. so you crocheted him a little version of his old stable pony, so they could meet again.
soda’s eyebrows furrowed and the corners of his lips downturned a bit, before he looked back up at you. “you made this?” he asked. you nodded and rolled back and forth on the balls of your feet, anticipating his reaction.
“do you.. like it?” and before you could say more, soda pulled you down onto the couch to hug you.
“‘course i like it, thank you.” he said, rubbing your back when you hugged him back.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
you groaned as you rested your head on PONYBOY’s bed. you were sitting on the floor, already starting to work on a sweater for your him (although, he didn’t have to know that part), but couldn’t settle on a design.
“hey pony, can you do something for me?” you asked, craning your head to look back at your boyfriend who was laying down with a book in his hands, as usual.
“yeah sure, what is it?” he said, his head bobbing from the movement of mouth moving while his chin was on his chest.
all you did was hand him a pencil and throw him a sheepish smile, cocking your head. “what?” he asked, setting the book down and taking the pencil. “what do you want me to do with this?” he asked.
“need you to draw somethin’ for me hun.” you turn to his desk, opening one of its drawers and finding a blank sketchbook before unceremoniously tossing it to him.
“what do i draw?”
“anything.”
“well cant you—,” he paused, taking a second to look at you batting your eyelashes and pouting at him, “—fine.” he mutters, leaning over the book and sketching away.
you smiled brightly, watching him work. he glanced up at you, unable to hold back a small smile himself. because even if you didn’t realize it, he knew that you had him wrapped about your finger.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
you had met up with JOHNNY in the lot again, him still frazzled about his home life. it was getting too much at this point, and all he wanted to do was seek comfort in you.
you held him as his shoulder shook with silent sobs, his hand covering his mouth in order to muffle most of them, but your heart still broke as one or two came through.
“i just—,” another cry, “i just can’t anymore.” he said. johnny’s arm were wrapped around you tightly, like you’d let go at any moment and leave him.
your hand rubbed his back soothingly, occasionally coming up to his head and cradling it as if he was a baby. until he cried himself out.
after a while, you both ended up on your backs just facing the stars. you talked about stuff, dreams of moving away from tulsa or a better life. but then you remembered something.
“oh! shit..” you mumbled, sitting upright and reaching over for your bag. johnny sat up onto his elbow, looking at you in confusion. you rummaged through your bag, tongue slightly sticking out of your mouth in focus before you finally found it with a little ‘aha!’ leaving your lips.
“what’s that?” he asked, watching you pull out a knitted sweater.
“it’s a sweater i made for you.” you shuffled over and handed it to him, neatly folded and smelling pretty like your house.
“if you don’t like it—“
“no.” said johnny. “i like it.” he looked up at you. god, he looked perfect. the moonlight hitting his face just right, giving him a blue hue where the light shined on him and his hair.
you did what any reasonable person would be. you grabbed johnny’s face, giving him enough space to pull away, and leaned in to kiss johnny under the moonlight.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
you had spent all night working on this sweater for DALLAS. you were sat at your desk with only a small dull lamp illuminating your work for you. your hands were starting to shake and you growing antsy with how long you were sat for.
dallas, as per usual, was bumming it at your house. he was next to you, laying on your bed arrogantly with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and an arm behind his head.
dally watched you work, his head turned slightly where he could watch you and look around the rest of the room from his peripheral. the way you were just so focused was satisfying to him.
you tapped your foot, you wanted to take a break and lay with dallas but you knew that if you didn’t continue with the sweater, you wouldn’t wanna do it later.
finally, you sighed and smile, holding up the sweater so dally could see.
“y’know i’m not gonna wear that, right?” he said, in the middle of trying to blow a smoke ring.
you just hummed, attention mostly on putting all your supplies away instead.
“yeah you will. i know you will.”
“and how d’ya know that?” he said, turning his head all the way in your direction.
“because i speak dallas winston.” and to that, dallas scoffed and looked away, because he knew it too. he’d wear that sweater in private, but he’d never admit to anybody.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
TWO-BIT took another swig of his booze, watching mickey mouse on television. the grainy audio traveling to the hallway where you were walking into the living room from.
“hey, look at this.” you told him, sliding up next to him on the couch. he looked at you for moment, alternating between watching the tv and you.
you showed him the crocheted sweater, hoping he would like it. his eyes were glued to your tv for a while, before you nudged him in his ribs. he shifted away and giggled a little bit, before looking down at the sweater, his lips parting in shock.
“oh m’glory baby, this is amazin’.” he slurred, taking it into his own hands and staring at it, setting down his bottle.
you leaned forward and looked at how many bottles were on the ground.
“how many drinks have you had?—“
“nevermind that! i’m looking at a masterpiece darlin’..” he said, you didn’t miss how his voice broke a little at the end.
“are you cryin’, keith?” you chuckled, putting your hand on his shoulder. he must’ve gotten a bit emotional with how many drinks he’s had.
“no! i’m just—..” he hunched over and and buried his face into the sweater, taking in the scent of your lotion faint on the yarn.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“awh, hell naw! i’m not wearin’ that!”
“yes you are! get over ‘ere!” you yelled, running after STEVE with the sweater in your hands.
he scurried away, sliding around all the hallways in order to get away from you. you two both laughed as you tried to catch him, and finally you had him cornered.
he was stuck in the corner of your room, eyes darting for any possible way out. you carefully stepped towards him, holding the sweater up by its neck. “nowhere else to go, baby. it’s time.” you grinned, before running at him.
but before you could grab him, steve charged and picked up up, throwing you onto the bed.
you squealed as he blew raspberries in your neck, laughing loudly along with you too.
“just—! just put the goddamn sweater on, will you?” you asked, trying to get through one sentence without giggling. steve held his face in your neck as he thought for a sec.
“can i get a kiss in return?” he lifted his head to look at you, flashing you those beady brown eyes and batting his eyelashes dramatically.
you placed a quick peck on his lips and did your best to push him off of you, throwing the sweater so it’d land on his face. “now put it on.” you laughed softly, and with that laugh, steve would’ve done anything.
when soda came over later that day though, he definitely took notice.
“wow steve, very fashionable today.”
“shut th’fuck up, man!”
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ eeek!!! sorry this took so long, all the of gang hcs take me a bit, love :( but i like how this turned out! sorry that sodapop was the only one that didn’t involve a sweater, i just thought it’d be a cute idea 😭🫶
kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
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cowboydisaster · 4 months
Note
Hi again! Thought of another one….
Arthur finds out that reader has a gift for him for Christmas but he hasn’t gotten them anything. So he has to scramble to think of a gift. He ends up making a handful of drawings of reader including some with their beloved horse. And of course reader is over the moon about it
This one isn’t too clever so if you’re not feelin’ it, it’s ok.
🎄❤️
* ˚ ✦ Icebreak * ˚ ✦
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pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 720 a/n: Just a cute lil' drabble. Merry Christmas' eve! Thank you for another really cute prompt!!
cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: ONE day 'till christmas!
christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist
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Arthur distinctly remembers the conversation in which you’d both agreed that you wouldn’t be exchanging gifts this year. Alarm bells are going off in his head. Was he supposed to get you a gift anyway? Should he have ignored that conversation entirely? Been a gentleman and got you something nice? Arthur swallows thickly. 
Despite the conversation, Arthur had just found out that you have a gift for him. Sadie has a loud mouth, especially when she’s drunk, and for once, Arthur is grateful for it. At least he has a little time to think of something. He pulls his pocket watch out, glancing at the time. 6:27 PM. A little time. 
In a rush, Arthur jogs into his tent, pulling his journal out of his satchel and placing it on the bed. Beside it, he tosses down a piece of charcoal and a pencil. The camp isn’t in a great financial situation; hence the agreement of no presents. So, he reckons if he can’t buy you something, he’ll just have to make you something. 
Arthur begins drawing, and after a while, the sun fades away, forcing him to switch to lantern light. The side of his hand is caked in lead as he runs the pencil over the pages, capturing the curves of your body, the shine of your smile. He draws his favorite memories of you. The day he gifted you your mare, Sugar. The day you kissed him for the first time. The day he’d brought you to camp. 
Arthur stays up far too late, sketching a handful of pictures of you, taking his time to capture you in the utmost detail. His hand flicks perfectly, catching the waves in your hair, the line of your jaw. Arthur draws you with your mare, with his gelding, with him. 
The group of drawings encapsulate the things that you love the most, and the memories that you hold dear. After finishing half a dozen good drawings, Arthur inspects them, fixing little mistakes, and adding little notes about his love for you. When he’s finished, he takes some old baling twine, tying a little bow around the pages, fixing them until they’re all wrapped up perfectly.
He knows you deserve better, a bracelet of silver or gold. A necklace embedded with gemstones, or a new dress. Those are the things you would have been gifted back in the city. He sighs, looking down at his little homemade gift, knowing that it will just have to do.
— — —
“Alright,” Arthur whispers, pulling out the ribbon-wrapped sketches, “Go on n’ open ‘em.” 
Your eyes open slowly, drifting to the white pages that Arthur is extending out to you. 
Hesitantly, you take them, eyes searching up to Arthur’s for reassurance. He nods, and you smile, pulling the twine ribbon, letting it spiral to the floor. You flip the first paper, recognizing it as being ripped out from Arthur’s journal, and you gasp. 
It’s a beautiful sketch, one of you sitting up in bed, hair draped down your back, a graceful smile on your lips. Even through paper and pencil, Arthur has managed to capture the sparkle in your eyes, the optimism in your countenance. Next to the drawing is a small note. 
Early mornings with my lady.
Your heart warms, and you flip to the next one. You find a sketch of you, laying on the back of your beloved mare, arms wrapped around her neck. The drawings are stunning. Works of art that should be posted in a gallery in Saint Denis, and he’s giving them to you. You know how private Arthur is with his journal, and you’re honored.  
“You like ‘em?” Arthur asks, nervous of your silence as you continue to look through. Tears pool in your eyes as you look up to him, holding up some of the precious gifts. 
“You drew me. Arthur,  I love them.” Sincerity is thick in your voice, and Arthur wipes a tear away from your cheek. 
“Didn’t wanna make you cry.” He jokes. You huff. 
“They’re so beautiful, so meaningful. No one’s ever done anything like this for me. Not in my whole life— not before you.” You whisper. 
Arthur’s arms wrap around you then, pulling you into his chest, shushing away your sniffles. 
“They’re perfect, Arthur.” You murmur against him. He smiles. 
“Merry Christmas, darlin’.”
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taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445
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fallingdownhell · 1 year
Note
Genshin.l men when you pluck off their first grey hair.
Uhh, I know some good candidates for this one! xD
Characters Included: Itto; Kaveh; Zhongli; Kazuha
Content: Fluff; established relationship; overall just good feelings and joking around; no drama at all in this one
Word count: 1,3k words
Have fun with this one!
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Itto
It was your usual hangout day with Itto and his gang, but you were bored
You guys weren't doing anything interesting or fun, just sitting around, playing cards
well.. Kuki may be entirely satisfied that the boys were keeping low on their shenanigans, but you were bored out of your mind. Your boyfriend wasn't really paying attention to you, too invested in his stupid card game
somewhere along the way, you decided to lay your head in his lap, hoping to garner some attention this way
when that also didn't work, you started to play with his hair to get a rise out of him, but that also failed. He did enjoy your touch, but ulimately, it wasn't enough to distract him
that was, until an idea formed in your head. True, it may sound like a stupid one, but your boyfriend was also known to not exactly be of the brightest sort
so, with feigned shock, you suddenly gasp as you pluck one of his hair out of his head, the sudden exclamation finally getting Itto's attention
"What? What's wrong, babe?"
"Itto.. I think you're getting old.. Look, your hair is going white!"
You play your part good, but it obviously was a pretty stupid prank to pull on him. Everyone caught onto it the moment you spoke it out loud. Well.. everyone, except..
"WHAT? ARE YOU SERIOUS?"
Itto practically jumped up, panic written all over his face
"This can't be! Not my hair!"
You look at him, puzzled, confused that this stupid joke actually worked on him. You looked to the other gang members, but they only sigh and shake their heads
When Itto finally got in front of a mirror, you could almost see the gears turning in his head.. it took him a solid minute until he realized it, too
"(NAME)!!", he screamed and now you couldn't hold back your laughter
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Kaveh
For a man, Kaveh was overly focused on his physical appearances
he always made sure to stay relatively on top with his choice of clothes and his hair is always well taken care of
and while that might sound like someone who would be overly arrogant, Kaveh was not like that at all
he just really cared about what he looked like, always wanting to "Impress", if you can call it that
so, one day, you thought about a little prank. You didn't think anything bad of it, it was just a harmless joke...right?
well... one time, after waking up in bed together, Kaveh asked for you to brush through his hair while he was looking through some sketches again, and that was just the perfect opportunity to execute your plan that has been brewing in your head for the last few days
For a few seconds, you silently brush the comb through his hair, followed by your fingers to smoothen it up again, when you suddenly gasped
"What? What's wrong, (name)?", Kaveh sounded confused at the sudden change in atmosphere, slightly alarmed
"Kaveh.. I think I found a grey hair here.."
"...WHAT? PULL IT OUT! PULL IT OUT!", he screamed.
This couldn't be happening! Not yet! He wasn't even THAT old!
You plucked the single hair out like he requested. And while it was just a normal, blonde strand of hair like the rest of it, Kaveh was an expert in stressing himself out so much that he actually thought to see it as well
"No, no, no, no!"
He began pacing through the room, trying to think of a solution. This couldn't be happening!
You almost couldn't hold back your laughter, but when Kaveh suddenly ran out of the room, completely forgetting about anything else, you knew that you might have messed up a little bit with your prank...
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Zhongli
You and Zhongli were laying on the couch, his head rested in your lap as you massaged through his scalp
The events of the day had tired him out more than usually and you noticed that as soon as he came through the door of your shared home
so, you offered to help him relax a bit. You made him a cup of his favourite tea and were now spoiling him with this incredible massage, he felt like all his dreams had come true at once
his eyes were closed, humming from time to time, telling you just how much he enjoyed this
"Hmm..", you let out after some time of you being quiet. Zhongli rose an eyebrow at that, but otherwise remained as he was
when nothing else came from you, he opened one of his eyes, staring up at you
"Is something the matter, darling?"
"Hmm? Oh, not really.. I just noticed, you seem to have gotten a few grey hairs.."
Your tone was gentle and you kept up the relaxing movements through his hair
"Ahh.. Is that so?", Zhongli quietly spoke, closing his eyes again
"So it seems that the wheel of time is finally catching up to me, as well."
"...Are you bothered by it?", you ask, carefully, not knowing how he would react to that revelation
"Not at all. This is just how things are supposed to be. I don't mind it at all."
And he meant that. He couldn't be bothered by his hair turning a different colour, when everything else in his life was just perfect...
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Kazuha
You and Kazuha were currently on board of the Alchor, making their way back to Inazuma
You had decided to accompany him on one of his travels and it has truly been one of the most amazing experiences in your entire life
The things you got to see during your travels, the people you interacted with, and the memories you made together with Kazuha.. it would surely stay in your mind forever
Currently, you were both out on the deck, just looking out into the distance, silently enjoying each others company
normally, you would sit with your back against Kazuha's chest, his arms would be around you while he simply held you like this. Sometimes he would kiss your hair and other times, he would tell you a poem that he just came up with. You cherished those peaceful moments with him
This time however, your roles were reversed, with Kazuha sitting with his back against your chest, half sitting against you and half laying in your lap, while you gently stroke through his hair
he wasn't really thinking about anything in this moment, instead enjoyed the gentle breeze of the wind and your touch in his hair.. surely this must be what heaven felt like
he was sighing every now and then with content and each time, you smiled at the sound, glad that he was enjoying this
then, one time, when you took your hand out of his hair to put it to a different position, you noticed a few loose strands of hair caught between your fingers
you pulled them out and stared at them a bit.. something felt off about it somehow..
"Kazuha.. is your hair starting to grow grey?"
At first, he wasn't sure if he heard you right. He opened his eyes, only to find a serious expression on your face
You really weren't joking...
"My dear...", he only said, sighing a bit
"What?", you asked, feeling a bit offended at his tone. You looked at him a few more seconds until you realized it..
your eyes grew wide and Kazuha knew you finally got it, a sly grin making it's way on his lips
"Oh...", was all you said, embarrassed that you forgot something like that
Kazuha just smiled, but said nothing further about it, just closing his eyes again as you continued with what you were doing before
Would he ever let you live that down? ...No, of course not...
819 notes · View notes
marksbear · 11 months
Text
Request is:
What if the BAU team got a new team member who used to work on old xfiles/unsolved cases, he's seen things that just can't be explained and thing you wish you never knew existed?--- @xweirdo101x
I made this with headcanons and Drabble. At first I was thinking about turning this into something very dark and creepy but I decided not to.
BAU X NEW AGENT READER
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-The team new at a instant you wasn’t your typical new agent. You looked tired, but in the same way not tired. You kept to yourself not making any real efforts to know your team outside of their business life.
-They noticed how your eyes weren’t full as hope and life like the other new agents they meet. No yours were cold and that you self aware.
-At first they thought you were just shy. Like during the first case you had just stayed in the back observing everything and anything.
But soon enough they all found out that you were far from shy.
-Each member of the team noticed separate details about you. Some that they won’t usually care about, but with you they analyzed your every move.
-Hotch noticed how you connect things fast. Whether it’s relationships with the victims like how their similar from each other all the way to knowing how and where would the unsub would strike next.
-Derek noticed how you remember even the biggest and smallest details. Like the conversations you have with suspects to even remembering the first thing he said to you.
-Penelope seen you write notes to yourself. You wrote fast and from afar it looked like you were just scribbling on paper. But as she looked closer she saw that of had lost of ideas and possibilities even had sketches of what the unsub may look like.
-Anytime you were in the office late at night Rossi would sometimes sit next to you quietly watching you write and type various of things. What really caught his eye was a very old cold case you was researching about.
“You like reading old mysteries?” Rossi finally says catching you off guard. You turned your head to face his and with a straight face you spoke back.
“Not just reading… I liked solving those so called mysteries.” Y/n answers before turning back around to write.
“Liked? What do you mean?” Rossi asks with a raised brow. “I still do of course, but now I’m working here, so I gotta stop focusing on the past and focus on the present. But old habits just die hard.” Y/n answered as if it was nothing.
-After that Rossi had a unspoken respect for you.
-He told the rest of the team about the moment you guys shared and told him exactly what he told him.
-While the team talked about it and what your past job could have been like Penelope opens her laptop quickly getting onto google searching up your name.
-Shockingly to her the internet knew a lot of thins about you. You were somewhat a hero to say the least. Hundreds of unsolved cases but now solved by you popped up. Interviews and news lines about you was everywhere.
-She wondered how the hell did you come here without anyone knowing who you were.
-She quickly showed her team about her findings.
-Now everything was clicking together about your habits and personality. Reid began to ramble on and on about all the signs that you showed like correcting people when they mention the wrong serial killer or knowing secrets details that most regular agents won’t know about the criminal justice system.
-They all knew that you were different from the start, but none of them ever guessed that you a expert and a true hero.
-It didn’t take you long to know that they knew about your past experiences. Not like they didn’t try to hide that they knew.
-Reid started to ask you question after question like how you solved a case that was unsolved for years or how you found evidence to the cold cases.
-Derek made a game where he quizzed you about different unsolved and cold cases.
-Hotch was first to ask a more deeper question like about the things you saw and had to go through. And you gave honest answers. You told him that you seen things that doesn’t even seem real and things that anyone wouldn’t think existed. He felt sad for you but in the same time respect grew.
-Rossi randomly had just gave you a random comforting hug saying that he’s proud of you. He didn’t care that you started a new chapter in your career he just felt the need to tell you how much he cared and how proud he is at you.
-You and Penelope had a rough time bonding since your more realistic and mysterious while she’s sweet and bubbly always looking at the bright side while you expect the worst.
-it was hard trying to understand and know each other.
-But once y’all finally did y’all became  inseparable. In a strange way you both found comfort in each other.
-The team all started to understand and bond with you after they all excepted what you went through in the past to get where you are now.
THE END
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archangeldyke-all · 5 months
Note
imagine sevika finding all the drawings reader has made of her in their sketchbook. Drawings of her face, body, nose, back, everything. 🙃🙃
wahhhh now i'm crying
men and minors dni
she's rifling through your drawers looking for a clean tank top to borrow when she finds a manila folder hidden under your socks.
she hums, opening it, expecting to find your birth certificate or tax documents. she freezes when the first thing she sees is her own face.
sevika knows you like to draw. she's always laughing at the little doodles and sketches she finds around the house, on the back of old receipts or napkins.
one of her favorite pastimes is reading in bed while you doodle away in your sketchbook beside her.
but she's never seen you draw her before.
she gazes down at the sketch, soaking in every scratch of your pencil, a lump forming in her throat at the loving way you've captured her sleeping face.
she moves the first sketch to the side. the next one is a bit messier, clearly done in a rush. black ink smudged in some spaces where your hand smeared it on the back of an old receipt in your attempt to quickly capture the rare sight of sevika's toothy grin. she chuckles at the little hearts you've drawn around her smiling face, then moves onto the next.
it's her whole body from head to toe, naked and asleep on your bed. she's got one hand above her head, the other resting across her stomach. she looks... soft. you've drawn each and every scar on her body with loving reverence. you've captured the hickeys you'd sucked into her neck earlier that night with a gentle smudge of your graphite. a gentle smile creeps up sevika's lips as a tear falls from her eyes.
there's hundreds of sketches in the folder. sevika gives up on her search for a shirt and situates herself on the bed, rifling through all the papers in the folder.
some of her hands, some of her back, some of her lounging on the couch with a cigarette between her lips.
her favorite is a quick doodle you'd obviously done when she'd pissed you off, a caricature of her flexing, captioned with 'all these muscles and she still makes me shovel the driveway.'
she loves the little studies she finds on various parts of her face. one page is just full of her nose from different angles. another is of her hands, both flesh and prosthetic.
you find her while she's admiring a particularly saucy sketch of what she assumes must be your view of when she's fucking you missionary.
"sevika?" you ask. she jumps off the bed, scrambling to stack the papers and slam the folder closed. you chuckle. there's a lovely little blush on her cheeks, and she's still clutching the folder to her chest like it's her prized possession. "you found your folder." you say. she blinks at you.
"why didn't you show me these before?" she asks. you shrug.
"'s kinda embarrassing. i'm, like, obsessed with you." you say. sevika chuckles.
"'m your muse." she says. you roll your eyes.
"i didn't say that--"
"these are beautiful." she says. you blink at her. "i've-- fuck, i spent like an hour and a half lookin' at 'em. you made me beautiful." she says.
you blink back tears. sevika's always saying stuff that takes your breath away, then acting like she's said nothing.
"you are beautiful sevika." you say. she gulps, and then in a flash she's kissing you.
taglist!
@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity
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atlasscrumpit · 1 month
Note
Here's an idea… The reader and Bucky are in a closed psychiatric ward.
The Ward
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You laid in your bed at the hospital staring at the picture of a baby duck on the wall.
"The fuck are you smiling at." You muttered, you hadn't slept all night so being grumpy was to be expected.
The door opened and you looked up to see one of the doctors.
"Good morning, Y/N. You ready for breakfast, Hun?" She asked as you sat up and groaned.
"I need coffee." You muttered making her chuckle.
"There's plenty of coffee, come on." She said as you put your shoes on and left your room, following the doctor down the hallway, smelling the fresh breakfast cooking.
When you entered you found your only friend and walked up to him to get breakfast as well.
"Hey, Barnes." You muttered as he grumbled and nodded his head a little.
He wasn't exactly the talking type.
You both got a tray of food before sitting at your regular spot by the window.
"I slept like shit last night." You muttered as he ate his breakfast and just nodded a little.
"How's the paranoia?" You asked as he rolled his eyes.
"They gave me new medication... I still know the truth though, so that means my paranoia isn't real and what I see is." He said as you nodded a little.
"Well, maybe you need to give the medication some time to work." You replied as he glared at you.
"You sound just like the doctors." He grumbled before he continued to eat.
"I heard Steve was coming to visit this week, that'll be good." You said, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah... I have missed him actually." He muttered as you smiled softly.
"I'm excited to see him again, he's always so nice to me." You said as Bucky smiled a little.
"It's because he feels sorry for you, by the way." He said as you glared at him.
"You suck. Eat your damn bacon."
--
You sat in the main room sketching like usual, you leant against Bucky where he was on the couch watching tv.
The front door was opened by the doctors and you saw Steve entering with his wife, Peggy.
Bucky looked up and for a moment you could see a streak of jealously, you always had a feeling he liked Steve more than a friend.
"Hey, punk!" Steve said, rushing in to give Bucky a hug.
Bucky hugged him, holding onto him for as long as he could.
You glanced up every now and then from your sketchbook. Steve and Bucky sat together to talk as Peggy sat next to you.
"Hello, Y/N. How have things been?" She asked as you smiled softly.
"Not too bad." You muttered in response as Peggy glanced at Bucky and Steve.
"So... How's thing with you and Bucky?" She asked, turning back to you.
"Good, he's my closest friend in here and maybe out there too. He's the only one in here that doesn't care about my past...cause his is kind of worse." You muttered as she chuckled softly and nodded.
"I like Bucky... But, he's still lost in...an old love." You whispered glancing at him and Steve.
"Yeah, I know he's in love with Steve." Peggy muttered as you nodded.
"He's still convinced he's in the wrong universe. None of the medications work on him, he still thinks that this is some crazy simulation and he's a hero or villain or something?" You muttered as Peggy listened.
"Yeah... Steve told me he had a pretty bad episode last time he visited. Screaming about avengers or something." She replied, sadly.
The day dragged on and you continued to sketch while everyone spoke to their visitors, no one ever visited you, but you didn't really think much of it.
You were glad when everyone left and you could finally talk to Bucky again, once Steve had left he just stayed sitting at the table staring down.
You went over to him and sat across from him.
"Hey, how'd it go?" You asked, you could see he was deep in thought.
"They've got to him now too..." He whispered as you looked at him with worry.
"Buck... Do you think maybe it's time you had your medicine?" You asked in a soft tone before he slammed his fist on the table, altering everyone.
"You're apart of this, aren't you!? I can see right fucking through you!" He shouted lunging across the table and tackling you to the ground, he wrapped his hand around your throat as you looked up at him in fear.
Thankfully three nurses ran over and sedated him as you scurried away and caught your breath.
One of the nurses knelt beside you.
"Deep breaths, it's okay." She whispered, gently rubbing your shoulder.
You glanced over at Bucky on the floor unconscious.
"Will he be okay?" You muttered as the nurse offered you a reassuring smile.
"Yes, he just needs time to calm down. Why don't you go back to drawing before dinner?" She said as you returned her friendly smile and nodded.
--
You laid awake at night listening to the screams coming down the hallway, you knew it was Bucky in the isolation room.
You got up and slowly walked down the hallway to see nurses standing at the door to isolation.
"Y/N, it's okay. Head back to bed, okay?" The nurse said as you looked at him.
"I'm worried about him." You whispered as he sighed, he began to lead you back to your room.
"I know, Y/N. But, he's in the best care, okay? I know it's scary to listen to, but he isn't being hurt, he's just in a bad way right now." He said as you went back into your room.
"You promise you'll take care of him?" You muttered as he smiled.
"I promise, Y/N." He replied as you smiled.
You were about to turn around to go back to bed when everything paused...even the nurse in front of you.
"Hello?" You muttered walking up to him, suddenly it was as if he glitched and then disappeared into thin air.
You panicked and quickly sat on your bed and closed your eyes.
"It's not real, it's not real." You whispered over and over again.
The world around you began to disappear as you cried and started running down the hallway again.
"Bucky!" You scream the door to isolation disappeared as Bucky stood there staring at you.
"What's happening!?" You shouted in fear, he looked at you in shock, how only realising you were seeing the same thing he was.
He rushed forward and grabbed your hand.
"It's okay... It's okay, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I hurt you." He shouted, everything becoming loud as thing disappeared, you leapt forward and held onto Bucky. He wrapped his arms around you tightly in return.
You held onto Bucky as tight as you could, crying in fear when suddenly it all stopped, you pulled away and looked around to see you were standing in a black void.
"Y/N!" You heard a voice shout as you both looked around.
"What's happening?" You whispered as Bucky began to fade away.
"No! No, Bucky!" You screamed trying to grab him before he completely disappeared.
Suddenly you stood alone in the dark, scared as you cried, you looked down and your hands began to disappear.
"It's not real... It's not real." You whispered, sobbing your eyes out before everything went black.
--
You woke up with a gasp, feeling things attached to you as you panted and looked around to see you were in a hospital.
Was it just a dream or an episode you had?
"Bucky!" You screamed out before someone came rushing in.
"Y/N, it's okay. You're okay." He said as you looked up at him in confusion, your memory began to unblur as your eyes widened.
"Tony..." You whispered as he smiled.
"Yeah, yes that's me. Jesus, you scared us... Bucky is okay, he's in the other room." He said as you nodded a little and sat up slowly.
"What happened..." You whispered as Tony sat beside you and sighed.
"We were fighting against these weird ass aliens, we thought we took them down but, we found you and Bucky unconscious. You had been injected with some kind of venom and it trapped you inside your own mind." He said as you rubbed your head.
"How long were we out?" You asked as he looked at you sadly.
"It's been four months." He said as you stared forward trying to take in all of this information.
"It's going to take a while to get used to this again..." You whispered as Tony smiled sadly.
You heard a noise and looked up to see Bucky.
"Steve caught me up... So, in conclusion I was right the entire time and you weren't." He said as you laughed and shook your head.
"You fucking suck."
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scruplescripture · 5 months
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Suuuppeeer rough stuff but here’s like, the meat of my Daydreamer AU plot, and some fun stuff… my sketches are lazy
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Alright so here’s the sitch, my ramblings…
This is prismos deal;
Prismos dreamer was killed in his sleep, leaving behind Prismo as a daydream. Blue, desaturated, and more husk-like. Prismo didn’t have much of a clue as to what happened until he checked on his “body” and discovered the dreamer had been assassinated, but didn’t wake up in the process.
Scarab got a notification that Prismo had died and that there was an unknown entity in the vicinity, so he went to scope it out. He found what looked like prismo, and realized it was definitely prismo. Though still feeling bitter, he used the situation to chase off and mock Prismo.
Prismo escaped by pressing the TV remote before things got ugly, he went to the most chaotic place he could think of; Where the mushroom war took place. Because he thought he would be harder to track there.
He found shelter in an old well near a civilization. The people living there had children who regularly wished at the well, they called it the “Wishing Well”
So when Prismo got there, he decided to use some of his leftover power to help grant the children’s wish when they tossed coins down. Prismo decided to use the coin of the first children’s wish as a pupil, because he was unsettled by his own reflection in the water.
Eventually rumours spread about the Wishing Well that Prismo inhabited, and he got more wishes, the well slowly being filled with coins and other various objects. Obviously it was then easy for Scarab to find where Prismo was hiding out.
When Scarab found where Prismo was hiding he found it hilarious, mocking him further at how useless he had become. This drove Prismo even further into his turmoil, but Scarab had left him there to rot in the well. Until a crown with immense magical power was haphazardly thrown down.
Here’s where I’m at with Simon;
Both Simon and Prismo are a bit crazy by the time they meet in the well, after Simon had thrown the crown down in a fit of anger and desperation. Prismo couldn’t grant his wish due to most of his power being used up by that time, but since it was a bigger wish than any other he had granted while in the well, Prismo could get away with excuses.
Prismo promised Simon that he would help Simon get what he wanted since he was a wishmaster, he just needed to keep Prismo around long enough to get his power back. So Simon keeps Prismo in a prism necklace, shining light into it when Prismo wants to stretch his form.
Simon was manipulated by Prismo using his fear of losing Betty and desperation to keep Marceline safe. Prismo clung to the magic of the crown because it was similar to his own that he had lost; granting a wish and all. and also because he felt like he was losing it down in the well he was in, he was driven desperate for the power he once possessed and a need to finally explore the world beyond what he saw on the TV screen back in the time room.
Prismo is consistency being pulled between who he was before and the deceitful way he is now, feeling both guilty and angry from what was taken from him, and what he feels like he needs to do to “fix things”
Meanwhile Simon is now protecting both Marceline and Prismo using the ice crown under Prismos instructions, though he now sees things through more rose-tinted glasses (literally LOL!) due to Prismo filling his head with half-truths and white lies. He’s able to keep the other two safe by using snow-based defensive strategies, hence “Snow King” though if he needs to he can use larger shuriken-like ice snowflakes
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I’m not sold on the way I drew him but here’s the deets
-his beard grew as long as his hair but he cut it short so prismo could see out of the prism, he keeps his hair long so Marceline can braid it
-Prismo made a passing comment about him looking cool in red so now it’s his thing
-like, a little bit happier than in the cannon show, but it’s all based on lies so it’s tragic
-more focused on his work again because of Prismo, kind of torn between that and looking for Betty?? Who knows
To be honest, if anyone’s got better ideas lemme hear em’ cause I might be crazy about this and far off the mark with how Prismo would act in that situation
Also yes scarab becomes the new wishmaster, still have not thought that design out yet be gentle
Also I think about this song a lot while thinking about daydreamer AU, have it
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datura-tea · 3 months
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holy shit this year marks 10 years of this blog and moz!! i can't remember the exact date i started posting here - my archive says i have one post from november 2013 but let's disregard that - but i do remember it was around late 2014/early 2015 :)
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^ one of the very first moz art pieces i ever drew, for fallout week 2015!!
memories and art through the years under a read more bc it got long
2014 → baby's first rpg!! i started playing fnv on my cousin's jailbroken xbox late 2013 and finished mid 2014 and i loved every minute of it. i remember waking up at 8am and playing almost nonstop until 2am the next day haha!
i didn't play moz on my first playthrough - but i did start creating a character that would eventually become her: a shorthaired ex-boxer who punched her way through obstacles when diplomacy failed. i remember she spent a lot of time with boone. i liked him then, because he saved my ass more times than i can count. but i digress. this is draft 1 moz essentially
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2015 → this is the year that i was doing my thesis so i could graduate but i was so depressed and stressed about it that i distracted myself by replaying fnv on pc, where i played through the dlcs for the first time. i fell in love with the dlcs' oversarching story; particularly ulysses, who i became obssessed with, especially since i couldn't find any content of him at the time. in the game, i played as moz; i had most of her personality and choices down, but her backstory was still up in the air.
fun fact: this was an existing sideblog that i remade to be a fallout blog so i could look for ulysses content, and when i couldn't find any, i made some myself, featuring moz as my main courier six. originally, i didn't ship them, but eventually i ended the year as a courier/ulysses otp shipper.
this was the year i started drawing digitally - my uncle let me borrow a drawing tablet and i used an old copy of photoshop i pirated hehe
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2016 → i graduated this year!! and promptly fell deeper into my depression. this was the year that it got so bad that i had to be medicated. through it all, this blog and moz and ulysses and my fandom friends were with me. and for that i am truly grateful :) this was the year i figured out how to lock transparent pixels so that i could color my lineart lol
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2017 → i started hammering out moz's backstory this year i think. there's a lot of sketches of her and her family in my files. i experimented with shading and backgrounds here but that experimentation was pretty short-lived
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2018 → i started using references seriously!!!! i did a lot of oc on oc kissing this year, featuring mostly moz and many friend ocs haha
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2019 → didn't draw much this year. actually this year was a blur and i can't remember much from it except from it being the year of my terrible no good bad copywriting jobs... anyway i did manage to continue my courier/ulysses brainrot and make this piece, which i'm still proud of
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2020 → pandemic time. i spent a lot of time asleep at home and i think this was also the year i started doing commissions?? shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned me - thank you so much, i truly appreciate it!!
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2021 → i switched from my old-ass pirated photoshop to clip studio paint and never looked back. also i did a bunch of commissions for my grandmother's surgery, which failed, and i distracted myself from the sadness by drawing my ocs over and over and playing disco elysium
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2022 → by this year, i've got moz down pat and have started vaguely developing other ocs instead. but she's still always at the back of my mind
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2023 → i bought new brushes from true grit texture supply and immediately found new favorites that i started using for everything. i tentatively started incorporating background elements in some pieces!
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2024 → while it's still too early to say where this year will lead me art-wise, i will say that i started experimenting in realistic paint studio (which i bought in 2021, the same time as clip studio paint) a few days ago and i'm liking the results so far. we'll see!
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all in all, these last 10 years have been quite a ride, but i'm glad i stuck around and i'm glad you guys stuck around too!! much much love 💖💖💖
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plainclothesdisaster · 7 months
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Red Knight - Chapter 3
DP x DC | Dead on Main
Jason Todd encounters one Danny Fenton in the streets of Gotham and suddenly he's thrown into a world of ghosts and monsters. Will he embrace this life? Or will it just end up with him dead again?
Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
--
Jason didn’t go home. Instead, he melted into the shadows across the street from the diner and waited. A few minutes later Danny emerged and got on his motorbike. He revved the engine and began to speed away.
Jason would find out who the hell this guy was. (And if he was totally full of shit). He waited a moment before shooting a grapple line and pursuing.
Fifteen minutes later he found himself on a rooftop across the street from a simple apartment on the fourth floor of an old building. Using the binocular zoom on his helmet he watched Danny inside. He looked tired and utterly human as he went though the motions of getting ready for bed. As he took off his shirt Jason winced at the scars all across his body— most noticeably the Lichtenberg figure that cascaded up his arm and over his shoulder. The amount of electricity needed to leave that kind of mark— something like that should have killed him.
Maybe it had.
Minutes later Danny turned out the light and went to sleep. Jason didn’t leave. The pit was quiet. It stayed quiet all night.
In the morning Jason followed as Danny took the train across the city to Gotham University. Jason blended with the other students as he tailed him through the halls until Danny entered what appeared to be an upper level mechanical engineering lecture. Instead of following him in He headed back to Danny’s apartment.
He opted to pick the lock— better not to leave a trace. Inside he found a fairly typical college apartment. Sparse furnishings, a couple faded band posters tacked to the walls, game controllers strewn about. It was homey. Nice.
Jason found nothing out of the ordinary in the kitchen, nor the closets. No laptop or phone— must have taken them with him. Jason rifled through papers on the messy desk- lecture notes, sketched diagrams, grocery lists- and started to think that he really wan’t going to get anything good on this guy. Then he touched something that jolted him with an electric shock.
Jason pulled his hand away with a whispered curse while shuffling off the remaining papers, revealing some kind of metal belt. It had wires sticking out, chips exposed, clearly an unfinished project. What gave Jason pause was the faint strange glow about it, green with the same energy he saw in Danny’s palm and in his eyes.
He reached a hand toward it again. As soon as his fingers got close he felt the buzz of energy start to sharpen. The pit under his heart snarled. He pulled his hand back.
Mysterious gadgetry certainly was a little suspect, but by itself didn’t point to any nefarious intention. He thought about taking the belt to study it further, but doing proper diagnostics would require help from Tim, or worse, Bruce. No, thanks. Too many questions he didn’t want to answer.
He glanced at the papers again. He saw a full name there. Danny Fenton.
Danny Fenton. A powerful not-meta meta. Also, by the looks of it, just some average guy. That didn’t mean Jason would take his guard down. He knew that metas and monsters often hid in plain sight. And the ones that did it well were the most dangerous.
//
Jason went back to his apartment and slept through the rest of the day.
He woke up that night with a gun in his face.
A shadowed smile leered down at him. “So you are the new ghost boy. You’ll make a fine addition to my collection.”
A green blast split his bed down the middle as he leapt out of the way just in time. Who the fuck?
Jason grabbed the bat he kept next to his nightstand and took a wild swing at his assailant. As the sleep cleared from his eyes a seven foot tall robotic guy with a flaming green mohawk came into focus. His attacker stopped the bat in his hand with surprising strength.
“Ah good, you do have some fight in you.”
The robot guy punched Jason in the gut, launching him across the room. That hurt, way more than a hit from a common goon. What the hell was this guy made of?
Jason pulled himself up and grabbed a gun off the kitchen counter. He leveled it with easy precision. He planted one shot in the robot guy’s chest, the other between his eyes.
His aim was perfect.
Neither shot connected.
The bullets passed right through him. Jason’s mouth went dry.
“Hah, those puny weapons won’t work on me. Now this-“ what could only be described as a rocket launcher emerged from the robotics on the robot guy’s shoulder- “this is a real gun.”
The rockets fired, fueled again by that green energy. Jason bolted for the window and crashed out onto the fire escape, taking a hit to the side as he did. The blast burned but thankfully didn’t break the skin. Still hurt like a bitch though. The pit screamed, but the rage felt more focused now than it had before. Methodically he swung his way down to the street, landing bare-footed and in his sweats, unmasked and unarmed except for the useless gun in his hand. His attacker pursued, emerging through the wall and flying after him.
Jason gritted his teeth. The green energy, the familiar powers— it was too much to be just a coincidence. Ghost, he named his attacker in his head. Like Danny.
He ran.
The ghost caught up with him before he’d made it two buildings down. “Is that all you can do? Scurry around down there like a scared little mouse?”
More blasts assailed him from more varieties of guns. Jason dodged, but just barely. If he could just make it to his safehouse then— then what? He could shoot this guy with more guns that didn’t work? Hide behind walls that the ghost could walk right through?
He heard the next shot too late. A glowing rope wrapped itself around his ankles, sending him stumbling to the asphalt face first. Weak, he thought as he spit out gravel. He’d never felt so weak, not since coming back. For the first time since he emerged from the pit he no longer felt invincible.
His attacker landed with a metallic clank. Jason glowered as the ghost cracked a jagged smile. “That’s it? Your combat is weak. Your banter is lacking. Your head is hardly worth mounting above my mantle.”
Anger smoldered beneath Jason’s heart, pulling in on itself versus the usual explosion. His legs were bound but his hands were still free. He tightened his grip on his pistol.
With a roaring yell he heaved himself half up and swung the gun on the ghost again. He focused his anger, focused that pointed energy, and pulled the trigger.
A bullet shrouded in green flame exploded from the barrel. It connected with the ghost’s stomach, sending a shower of sparks spraying as it tore through the robotics.
The ghost looked down in shock.
Jason smiled in triumph. “How’s that for a real gun.”
Then Jason unloaded, pulling the trigger as fast as he could make it go. He kept shooting even when he should have run out of ammo, each shot a flaming green spark that took a chunk out of the robot ghost with every hit.
“What is this? Impossible!” The ghost took off yelling, retreating back down the street. Jason ripped the rope from his ankles and got on his feet to chase.
Ghost or not, this part Jason knew. Bad guy on the run, him in pursuit. He let his shaken nerves melt into a familiar resolve. The ghost shot back at him but Jason’s focus was unshakeable. His phantom bullets took the guns clean off the robot suit till it was covered in shredded metal.
Finally the ghost flew up, desperate to get out of range, defeated. “I underestimated you whelp. Until next time.”
With that the ghost activated his jet pack and flew away into the night. Jason kept shooting till he vanished over the rooftops.
//
That was not the last attack. They came nightly after that, some new kind of ghost would appear and stir up trouble. He’d notice them on patrol now- glowing vultures on the roofs or a green lion stalking in the park or translucent octopi floating down the streets. Had they always been there and he just hadn’t noticed? Or had they just showed up? The more he watched the more it seemed that other people didn’t see them.
Or maybe they just didn’t care. Just another one of those Gotham things.
Most ignored him entirely but caused trouble in different ways— lurking in sewers and tugging at people’s hems or floating through stores causing electronics to malfunction. Harmless mostly. But ever present. Those ones eventually noticed Jason watching and they’d always look back at him with surprise or curiosity or a sick kind of delight.
Sometimes Jason would pick the fight. He punched a ghost creep following a lady too closely as she walked down the street. Chased off a demonic possum that was oozing some kind of goo into the river. Other times the fight would pick him. He stared too long at a vulture and it swooped down on him, brandishing impossible teeth. A headless guy jumped him outside his safe house. He looked awfully similar to one of Gothams former gang bosses.
He was getting bette at harnessing that green energy and he could reliably shoot energy bullets from any of his guns. He also found that an old fashioned punch would also do the trick.
Once he saw an oily black creature at the edges of his vision, larger and more sinister than any of the other ghosts he’d encountered. A brawl in the street broke out a moment later so he didn’t get to investigate but somehow that one made him feel more unnerved than all the rest.
He didn’t understand where they were coming from or why they were here. He knew someone who probably would.
During daylight hours he gathered intel on Danny Fenton- or at least he attempted to. It was like the kid didn’t exist before he showed up as a student at Gotham University. The internet was shockingly clean of any records or photos.
Jason was beginning to think Danny Fenton was just a pseudonym until finally he got a relevant hit. He found an article published in a now-discredited scientific journal by Dr.s Jack and Madeline Fenton, detailing their paranormal research. The paper theorized about a separate dimension of post-concious beings. Suggested ways to make a portal there. It was too similar to what Danny described to be coincidence. Those were his parents, that was the portal that killed him. Maybe it was all true.
But Jason didn’t find any evidence that they had successfully created the portal. The paper talked about it in theory, not practice. The only evidence of them making it real was Danny himself. If he even believed Danny’s story.
Using a trick he stole from Tim he searched the housing records database and found a property under their names in Amity Park, Illinois. Satellite imaging showed a house that looked like a ufo had crashed landed on top of it. He chuckled to himself. That must be the place.
He was out grabbing a bite of dinner and considering a little field trip to Illinois to investigate further when the next ghost attack happened.
One second he was biting into his sandwich, the next three giant glowing green rats, just like the nasty ones that roamed Gotham’s sewers except 10 times bigger, burst out of the kitchen of the restaurant and out into the street.
Jason abandoned the sandwich and chased them out the door, pulling out his gun as they ran down an alley.
“Quit causing trouble on my turf,” Jason growled as he loosed a few blasts in their direction.
The rats stopped and turned back toward him halfway down the alley. The biggest one sat up and looked at him with sharp eyes. “Your turf? You got it twisted buddy. This here is our turf.”
Out of nowhere a fourth rat tackled him from behind. It’s boxy teeth clamped down on his shoulder with a sickening crunch. Jason yelled as he was thrown to the ground and suddenly all of them were on him, clawing and biting.
Jason clawed and bit back. He carried a gun even in his civvies (obviously) but couldn’t reach it in the thick of it.
He was truly starting to get pissed when suddenly the temperature dropped ten degrees. A voice came from down the alley.
“Hey.”
The rats froze. As a group they all looked toward the voice. At the mouth of the alley, plastic bodega bag in hand, face stern, stood Danny.
“What the hell is this?”
The head rat spoke up. “This is our turf. Tell the new guy he needs to buzz off before we make him.”
Danny folded his arms. His face was stoic but his voice had an icy edge. “I think you should be a bit more friendly to your neighbor.”
The rats reacted immediately, untangling themselves from Jason. “Jeez your majesty we were only joking. Mi casa es su casa and all that.”
“Good. Now scram.”
They scrambled away down the alley with a skittering of claws, running like they had hellfire under their asses.
Jason let out a long breath. Danny looked at him with complete recognition even though he was bare faced and in street clothes. Of course he could clock him out of costume. Why didn’t that surprise him?
Jason propped himself up on one arm. “Your majesty?”
“They don’t mean it as a compliment.” Danny huffed as he knelt down next to Jason, reaching out a gentle hand to inspect his wounds.
Danny’s jaw tightened as he ran a thumb over a gash in Jason’s arm. Jason pulled back.
“I’m fine.”
Danny reluctantly sat back. “There has been more ghost activity lately. Sorry I didn’t catch these guys quicker.”
“It’s okay. I dealt with the rest just fine.”
Danny tensed. “The rest?”
“I’ve been dealing with them since we got coffee. Nearly every night.“
Real anger flashed in Danny’s eyes for just a moment. It surprised Jason, and reminded him how much Danny wasn’t telling him.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Danny looked at Jason with such bare concern it made his heart feel sticky.
Jason grumbled. “I had it handled.”
“How??” Danny whined.
Jason pulled out his gun, pointed upward. Danny frowned, skeptical, until Jason pulled the trigger. A green blast shot into the sky. He shouldn’t have gotten so much satisfaction from surprise on Danny’s face.
“Oh,” Danny said. “Neat trick. That’s new?”
Jason nodded.
Danny sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Despite that, there’s no way I’m letting you deal with these ghosts on your own.”
“Let me?” Jason scoffed. “I don’t need your help.”
Danny raised an eyebrow. “So you were planning on being rat food just now?”
“I almost had them.”
Danny chuckled. Jason didn’t waver. Then Danny got that glint in his eye.
“Okay. Then prove it.”
“What?”
“Show me you can actually handle a ghost attack and I’ll leave you alone.”
Jason wanted that, right? To not have to think about Danny Fenton popping up randomly in his life again? He ignored the twist of confusion in his gut.
“How? There’s no ghosts.”
Danny stood up and gestured to himself with a smirk.
“You’re joking.” Jason deadpanned.
“Try me.”
Guess that was always how this was gonna shake out. Sure, why not. Stone-faced and without hesitation Jason pulled a second pistol out of his belt and shot a green blast directly at Danny with a sizzling crack. Danny took the hit on the shoulder with barely a flinch. He glanced down at the burn hole on his shirt. The skin beneath was unbroken.
Danny’s smile widened, and there were those fangs again. “That it?”
Jason clenched his teeth and sprang into action. He launched to his feet as he brandished both guns in front of himself, shooting rapid fire.
Danny moved like a practiced fighter, ducking and weaving around the shots. A handful hit him but they didn’t break his focus or his stride. Jason stepped back to keep distance but Danny was quicker. Suddenly he was close enough that Jason felt the coolness of his breath.
His fist came quick. Jason threw up his arm to block. He barely managed to keep his feet under him. The next punch connected with his gut and sent him shuffling backwards, but still upright. He used the space to pull up his guns again and fired.
Danny jumped and suddenly he was lighter than air, floating and flipping over Jason’s head. Jason tracked him with the guns and spun as Danny landed, again too close.
Jason holstered the guns and opted to grab Danny by the front of his shirt with both hands. He turned and slammed Danny into the alley wall.
“You are strong I’ll give you that,” Danny said, the amused grin on his lips mere inches from Jason’s, “But ghosts have tricks.”
Suddenly Jason was holding nothing but air. His fingers clenched into fists.
Barely a breath later Jason felt a cheek next to his, behind him.
“Boo.” Danny said directly in Jason’s ear. Jason elbowed backward reflexively, connecting with Danny’s gut. Danny let out a satisfying oof before slipping out of reach.
It fell into the rhythm of a brawl then as they traded blows. But even with the bits of ghostly flair Danny threw in, it felt off. Danny wasn’t fighting like the other ghosts he’d faced. He was fighting like a human. He was holding back.
Jason ground his teeth together as his anger bubbled to a boil. Stepping back to steal enough distance, he pulled out his pistols. He let the anger swirl and coalesce under his heart. He focused and pulled both triggers at once.
A massive green fireball exploded from the combined gun barrels, hurtling toward Danny.
There was no time for Danny to dodge. Jason relished the surprise on his face. But right before the fireball collided, Danny extended a palm and a translucent green shield appeared, covering him. The fireball dissipated on impact.
Jason groaned in frustration. Another power he didn’t know about? How was that fair?
“Why are you holding back?” he demanded.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Danny’s shield disappeared. “But I could ask you the same question.”
“What?” Jason was barely keeping up as is.
“I think you can do better than this.” Danny challenged.
Jason tightened his grip on his guns. Danny relaxed his fighting stance. “Can’t you go toe to toe with Batman? Even my sister would at least be making me sweat.”
Again that roiling focused anger under his heart, swirling like a supernova. Danny just looked at him with that shit-eating grin. He let the fire of anger burn hotter to cover the rising of something else underneath.
“Be serious.” Jason growled.
“Make me.”
With a roar Jason blasted another huge fireball and the fight was back on.
Jason actually wanted to hurt Danny now. He wanted to prove to himself that he could. He moved faster, punched harder, let out more of that fire with each shot.
The next time Danny got up close and Jason swapped to his fists, Jason noticed a green fiery glow had formed around his hands. Danny did too, when he winced for the first time after a punch connected. The pit under his heart hummed in triumph.
After that it was less easy for Danny to slip away into intangibility, more easy for Jason to press the offensive. Finally Jason swept Danny’s legs from under him and pinned him to the ground, a mirror of the first night they met.
Jason’s breath came in pants. He gripped Danny’s shirt tight in his fist.
“Not bad.” Danny flashed his fangs.
Jason lifted a fist to punch that stupid smile off his jaw but Danny threw up a hand and caught his fist, inches before it hit, stopping it with unshakeable strength.
“Believe me now when I say I’ve got it handled myself?” Jason kept his tone even.
Danny eyed Jason’s still-glowing fist. “More now than before, yeah. But-“ Danny pushed Jason’s fist aside with infuriating ease. He pulled his legs out from underneath Jason with intangibility and floated smoothly to his feet.
“I’m still going to help you.”
“That wasn’t the deal. You said if I-“
A blast of green energy to his stomach cut him off, stronger and faster than any of the punches they’d traded. Danny grabbed Jason by the jacket and they flew, up to the top of the twelve story building. Danny looked at him with empty eyes. And dropped him.
Jason didn’t scream. He scrambled for his grapple gun. He was falling too fast. He got a hand on it, too late- but it didn’t matter. Danny swooped down and pushed him intangibly through the ground at the moment of impact. He felt himself being dragged up through darkness until-
He was stuck in the alley pavement up to his waist. Danny crouched next to him.
“I promise this is a warning not a threat. I didn’t realize that patching up your core would put you over the threshold to get ghostly attention. They won’t stop bothering you. And they won’t all be small fry. If you won’t let me take care of them for you, at least let me give you a fighting chance.”
Jason glowered up at him. “You’re not going to let me out of here unless I say yes.”
Danny smiled, the most brilliant thing in the dark street. “Bingo.”
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pursuedbyamemoryy · 11 months
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Hello! How about something like Javier catching Reader (GN) sketching him? Reader has an interest in him but hasn’t really been the most obvious about it, showing it in more subtle ways
☆ i apologize for taking so long to answer your request, but thank you for being patient! i'm not sure how i feel about this piece, i went back and forth with it for a while. either way thank you for requesting, and i hope you enjoy reading <3 !!
w/c : 1.5k
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it was a warm, sunny day in clemens point. you sat under a tree with your journal, quietly admiring and sketching javier from across camp. your journal was full of drawings of javier at this point, you’ve had a crush on him for a while but were never sure how to express how you felt outwardly. you’d sit with him by the campfire more often, compliment his singing more than usual, and even let your gaze linger on him for just a few seconds longer, but other than that you hadn’t done much to show your feelings for him.
he was currently sitting at one of the campfires, softly playing his guitar. his hair was fluttering in the gentle breeze, pulled back in his usual ponytail. his fingers gently plucked at the strings, a small smile on his face as he played a familiar song. you kept glancing up at him, trying to capture as many details as possible in your drawing of him. you had gotten so immersed in sketching him that you didn’t notice that he was looking right at you, his smile growing wider when your eyes met his. he glanced between you and your journal, raising an eyebrow, as if he was questioning what you were so focused on.
you felt your face grow warm, quickly averting your gaze. suddenly the blades of grass by your feet were very interesting. you were trying to avoid his gaze, slightly embarrassed. after a minute you glanced back at him as he shook his head and smiled, returning to his guitar and playing another familiar tune.
once your embarrassment faded, you returned to your work, adding some smaller details and shading. after a while you held your journal farther away, looking at your sketch from a different angle, and deciding you were happy with it.
you closed your journal and got up from your shady spot under the tree, making your way to your tent, tucking your journal into your trunk that sat beside your bedroll. you had already finished all your chores for the day, and decided to wander idly around camp, saying quick hellos to other camp members. you made your way over to the shore at the edge of camp, and sat down on the soft dirt. the sun was starting to sink below the trees, the sky changing from bright blue to a mix of pinks and oranges.
as always your mind drifted to javier. you could never get your mind off of him. he was so pretty, and not to mention cleaner and more well behaved than practically all the other men in camp. you loved the way he dressed, the way he tied his hair back. his hair looked so soft, you longed to run your fingers through it and play with it, maybe even braid it or put it up in silly styles. you loved the way his hands strummed his guitar and played the chords effortlessly. the way he fiddled with his knife, spinning it around when he was thinking or bored. you loved his slim waist and the way his hips moved when he walked.
you stayed there for a while, until the sun had fully set and the stars were starting to shine overhead. dragging yourself out of your thoughts you made your way over to one of the campfires, where a bunch of camp members were settled. they were listening to javier playing his guitar as usual, some even singing along, stumbling over the lyrics.
---
a couple days later you found yourself in a similar spot, underneath a tree in the shade, sketching javier. you didn’t know where he was as you hadn’t seen him in camp that morning, and you just assumed he was out on a job somewhere. you were working on an old sketch that you hadn’t quite finished, adding details and shading.
you heard the steady drum of hoofbeats coming up the trail and into camp, not bothering to check who it was, as you were focused on finishing this drawing. you wanted to give it to javier, and you wanted it to look good. you weren’t great with words, but you figured he’d understand how you felt once you showed him a drawing you did of him. every line was like a love confession, the way you were able to capture the small details that made him, him is not something someone who didn’t care about him would be able to do. you noticed every wrinkle, scar, blemish, and you loved them all, and drew them in a way that expressed that perfectly.
“you always have your nose in that journal of yours, don’t you, cariño?” you froze when you heard his voice, slowly turning to see javier slowing boaz to a stop next to you. he leaned down slightly, trying to get a better look at your journal. “i didn’t know you draw, looks good.” you saw his cheeks flush slightly as he realizes that you weren’t just drawing anything or anyone, you were drawing him.
“yeah, i’ve been drawing for a while. and thank you.” you say nervously, looking between him and your journal. did he like it? did he think you were weird or creepy for drawing him or was he flattered?
“what made you draw me, out of everyone in camp?” javier dismounted and sat next to you on the grass, your shoulders touching slightly and his thigh resting beside yours. he gently grabbed the corner of your journal, slightly turning it towards him in order to get a better look. he was so close, and he looked as good as ever. you felt even more nervous, your cheeks flushing an even brighter shade of pink.
“you’re just nice to look at, i guess.” you say quietly. you turned to look at him, and saw him smiling. he was looking so intensely at the drawing, as if he was soaking up every line you drew, committing it to memory.
“you draw really well, it really does look like me.” he paused. “is this why i always catch you staring at me?” he said turning to look at you, his smile turning into a teasing one.
you shrug, “i did say you were nice to look at, didn’t i?” you start to smile back, your anxiety fading away and your confidence growing. “i’ve drawn you other times too” you flip through your journal, showing him various other drawings and sketches of him.
he stared in awe at each and every one, not saying a word and just admiring your artwork. “these are great, you’re quite talented, cariño, why didn’t you show me these sooner?” he turned to look at you again, his cheeks slightly flushed.
“i guess i was just nervous. these drawings say a lot about how i feel about you, don’t you think?” you gently ran your thumb over one of your sketches, glancing up at him.
“they do, and that’s why i wish you showed me them sooner. maybe i wouldn't have been as scared to confess if i knew you felt the same.” he shook his head and chuckled. “i like you too.” he said softly, looking between your eyes and your lips.
you smiled, unable to hold back your excitement. “really?” he feels the same. he likes my drawings, and even more than that, he likes me.
“of course, mi amor, i wouldn’t lie to you.” he brought his hand up to cup your cheek gently, and you leaned into his touch. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice gentle.
you nodded and leaned in, his soft lips meeting your slightly chapped ones. it was a sweet kiss, soft and chaste, his lips moving delicately against yours.
after a moment you pulled away, resting your forehead against his and looking into his soft brown eyes. “i’ve been wanting to do that for a while” he said, smiling softly, his hand still resting on your cheek.
“me too javier, you have no idea.” you laughed, smiling warmly at him.
---
javier woke up the next morning, his eyelids fluttering as the rising sun hit his face. he groaned, rolling over in his bedroll, his hand hitting a piece of paper. he sat up slightly, rubbing his eyes. once his vision adjusted to the morning light he looked down at the piece of paper that had been gently placed by his pillow, a small flower placed right on top of it. it was a drawing of him, more specifically the one he caught you drawing yesterday. he smiled to himself and brought the flower up to his nose to smell it, humming happily. he looked around camp, his eyes catching yours as you took a sip of what he assumed was coffee. he gave you a warm smile, which you returned. he took the drawing and folded it gently, kissing it and placing it carefully in his trunk that laid beside his bedroll. he would continue to save every drawing you gave him, cherishing each and every one.
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diientedegato · 3 months
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I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what Ben Paul would look like if he was alive years after S1 of TWDG :> I honestly prefer to imagine both him & Kenny going off on their own adventures after S1, because Idk if I'd've had Kenny as part of S2, it felt like when he returned it became less Clem's story & more his. That might be controversial among fans but it's how I feel :s I like to imagine Ben, Kenny & Sarita forming their own little family in fact <3 I'd expect Ben would end up with shaggier hair after a while but I wouldn't mind knowing what he'd look like with short, spiked up hair ;>
IM SORRY BOTH THE ASK AND DRAWING ARE OLD- but I came across the sketch I had eugeugeh. I do not have many headcanons but behind the cut is just a rant about. Kenny mostly. Too much should I warn? But yah I'm sorry it took me like 5 months lol
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The only headcanon (regarding Ben's appearance) is that he'd keep his school jacket for as long as possible. Until it thorns apart. Or until he dies.
I'm big fan of Ben lives possibility btw I've gotta draw sum about that sometime (I say, about every twdg character i like,)
And dude, do I agree about Kenny. Man doesn't belong in season 2. The character they made him to be in the second season is not Kenny, it's just a nostalgia element. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, I'm biased as hell, I break that hug choice every time. But it made the character development in the first season just.... pointless. "For some reason, I saved that piece of shit Ben", man, that quote just disappoints me. Kenny lost everything. Father and husband of none no more, which was pretty much the arc of Kenny on the first season?? I think? . Everything he loved and he had he lost, and he killed the person responsible for it. But not as revenge, he killed a kid out of mercy. He saved the boy from suffering a painful death, and that was forgiveness, to the reason he hadn't any. He took a decision he would be fully responsible of, when it was time for him to go. And he was perfect.
Hell, if he had appeared during season 2, I do prefer the Kenny as Carver idea. Clementine wasn't even that close to Kenny in the past, the player was, so even then it feels... off, off to be forced to care about a man that says so much he wants to protect you. (They're not really family, but is as if Kenny tries to protect and have Clem on his side, to have Clem's loyalty through and through. Though he does let her go and is proud of her on her individuality... hm.) But still, I mean, second season Kenny is not first season Kenny, and it isn't even a change that made sense. If he had been antagonist (which pretty much feels like it in the Canon story already), he should have had some other background story, no Sarita or company. Maybe then the cynical view he has would have mattered. The violence and anger and whatever else. For him to change that way was a consequence of him losing what he represented, protection of family? Wasn't failure and grief and acceptance meant to be important after all?
But otherwise yea I think it would've been pretty cool if Ben survived :3 I am a sucker for tales of redemption, forgiveness, and found family. And I hadn't thought about Kenny, Ben, and Sarita, but hell yeah. Man, even if they appeared in the second season, it would've been interesting if the choice wasn't between two individuals, but between two families. Ben already had a relationship with Clem! He appreciated her and calls her his only friend during season 1, he did leave her behind during that scene, -but the point of Ben was that- He was a coward all the season, until when he wasn't. He wanted to help Lee help Clem. They would've had an interesting sibling relationship-? also Ben had a young sister before the apocalypse so ooooh projection and parallels and shi. And if Ben had lived, he would've completed his development to something close to bravery-?
Well, I don't know, at least I think that'd be one interesting way to bring back old characters. Otherwise, Kenny should only be mentioned on dialogue maximum. The way I see it.
(I repeat the same thing over and over when I talk about something I'm sorry
(I've developed no language skills whatsoever in my life
(Yippee
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gorgonwrites · 10 months
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bound to you (part 2)
diluc x fem!reader
wc: 2, 205
authors note: okay i know i said i like jumping into the thick of things but i am such a SLUT for characters slowly falling in love and the tension of dancing around one another before they get together UGH! here is a part 2 for my first fic. :) also! this is a side blog and i realized im not really able to interact much with other accounts here. i might eventually move things over to my main blog bc i dont do much over there anyways. dont be alarmed if "witchcraftandwhisky" replies or likes something lololol. thank you for the love <333
CW: 18+, fem! reader, reader is an artist! slight voyeurism, diluc accidentally catches reader masterbating, MDNI!!!, diluc AND reader are still dancing around each other rn ugh just fuck already damn
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It’s been days since you briefly spoke with your husband, Diluc. He’s kept himself busy with the remainder of the harvest season, and you’ve felt uncharacteristically shy in his presence after his impromptu visit to your chambers. You have the perfect view of the vineyard from your window and you couldn’t help but greedily watch him, shirtless and hair tied up to stay off of his neck. He’s tanned quite a bit since he’s been home and you were pleasantly surprised to see the explosions of freckles that have erupted on his skin. Cute, you thought. There was some jealousy though, and you cursed the sun for being able to caress his skin so easily. You clapped your hands to either side of your face to rid yourself of the thought, and decided to be productive rather than wasting your afternoon in your window. 
Your eyes drifted to the corner of your room and after further inspection, you found your paints and canvases that had been long forgotten. I’ve hardly painted since I’ve been here… maybe some sketching will do my mind some good. You rummaged through the pile of art supplies to find an old sketchbook and some pencils and decided to find a shady tree outside. Adelinde greets you at the door of the manor, umbrella in hand to shield you from the hot summer sun. You both find a large tree with a lovely view of the vineyard and the manor, and you begin to sketch while chatting away with the head maid. 
After what felt like hours, a large shadow was cast over your sketch, and you were forced to look up and squint into the sun. Your husband loomed over you, glistening with sweat and looking curiously at your sketchbook. You quickly clutched it to your chest, startled by his sudden appearance. 
“Good afternoon, Master Diluc.” you couldn’t bring yourself to address him so casually yet, and his slight change in expression at your insisted formality was not lost on you. You began to fidget where you sat, and broke eye contact with Diluc to glance out at the vineyard where the rest of the men worked. 
“Oh, I think one of the boys needs me. Excuse me my Lady, Master Diluc.” Adelinde quickly said, winking at you before she gathered herself and quickly walked away. Up to no good. You tried to smile, but it came out looking like a grimace at your husband. 
“Y/n, good afternoon. I didn’t know you were an artist. May I see?” Diluc sounded as gentle as always, and you couldn’t help but hand your sketchbook over to him.
“I think saying I’m an artist is a stretch,” you sputtered, “it’s just something I do to pass the time. It calms my mind.” You didn’t know why him referring to you as an artist felt so embarrassing. You watched him closely while he flipped through the pages, noticing how his brows pinch together while he concentrates. He stopped suddenly, and chuckled. 
“Who, might I ask, is this?” He turned the sketchbook around only to show you a sketch you had done of his portrait that hung in the grand room of the manor. You gasped and snatched it from his hands instantly, curling in on yourself. You had drawn that not long after your arrival to the Dawn Winery, when you were still slightly optimistic about how your marriage to your husband would turn out. Diluc let out a roaring laugh, having to lean over you and brace himself on the tree so he didn’t fall over. You looked up at him and realized this was the closest you had ever been to him. You hadn't noticed just how many freckles had appeared on his skin. You noticed how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and you saw fine red hair peppered across his chest. You also noticed faint scarring on his arms and stomach, and you mindlessly reached out to touch them. Diluc hissed at the sudden contact and quickly retreated out of reach, his own hands covering where your fingers had brushed. 
“I’m sorry!” you squeaked. You knew your husband couldn’t stand the cold, and you had been sparingly using your vision to keep yourself cool while you sketched. You knew your touch felt unpleasant. 
“I know you don’t like the cold, that was thoughtless of me.” you quickly apologized, feeling sorry and even more embarrassed than you already were. You made eye contact with him and Diluc held your gaze, looking confused. 
“How did you know that?” he tilted his head, letting go of his side and crossing his arms.
“Oh I, ah- you don’t like the cold so I’ve heard.” Adelinde had discussed Diluc’s aversion to the cold with you before, but you didn’t have many details as to why.
“I try not to use my vision while you’re home, but it’s exceedingly hot today.” you mumbled, bringing your sketchbook up to hide your face as you finally looked away from your husband. 
“I see. You,” he cleared his throat, “don’t have to do that you know.” You looked up at him again, noticing how red his face and ears were. Was it from the sun, or was he blushing? You couldn’t be sure. 
“That was actually why I came over in the first place- everyone wants more of the frozen drinks you made the other day. And I- I thought that may be something to keep you busy for the rest of the afternoon.” He was talking into his hand, still unable to look at you. Oh, how the tables have turned. You felt a wicked feeling bubble up in your chest, and you grinned ear to ear. 
“Oh, Master Diluc, you’d have your little wife work tirelessly to serve drinks to your employees? How indecent of you.” you smirked, resting your chin in the palm of your hand while you wait for his response. He gathered his composure quickly, and leaned over you to whisper in your ear.
“My little wife doesn’t know just how indecent her husband can be, hm?” his voice was low and felt hot in your ear, and he moved away from you all too quickly. You sat astounded, frozen in place. He’d never spoken to you in that tone before. He cleared his throat again, and his regular formal demeanor returned. 
“Besides, we don’t want you to die of boredom, do we?” he wasn’t smiling, but you heard a hint of playfulness in his voice. You shook your head in agreeance, still astounded by his sudden brazen comment. He nodded to you, and then quickly left to return to his work. You could feel the heat rising in your chest, heading straight for your core. You rubbed your thighs together in hopes of quelling your growing arousal, but it had no effect. You silently curse yourself, trying to regain your composure as Adelinde returns to your side, a smile on her face. 
“Shall we head to the kitchen?” she politely asked. You nodded again, not trusting your voice in the slightest. You gathered your things and stood up on wobbly knees to head back inside. You needed a reprieve from the sun, and you jumped at the chance to freely use your vision. Your mind wandered aimlessly as you worked, and you wondered if your husband would ever come to tolerate your touch. Why does he not like the cold? Is this the reason you rarely see him? What does he do when winter arrives? Your thoughts raced, one flowing right into the other. You realized you had long since been done with the frozen drinks, and Adelinde was calling your name frantically.
“Lady y/n! Are you alright?” you blinked in response, and realized it was snowing lightly in your kitchen. You tried to laugh it off, but Adelinde knew better.
“I’m okay, don’t worry. I was getting a bit excited while making everyone their drinks. I’m happy to have something to do!” you smiled, picking up the tray and turning to head back outside. You needed to get to your chambers as quickly as possible before the relentless heat between your thighs became unbearable. 
Diluc couldn’t get out of his head for the rest of the afternoon. His brief loss of control with you earlier was at the forefront of his mind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how you looked at him afterwards. Your eyes turned hazy and a flush had quickly formed on your chest and neck. It was the heat, he told himself. He felt so bold in that moment, but now he wanted nothing more than to leave the manor and not return for a few weeks to let himself rebuild the wall that was quickly crumbling around him. With the final harvests coming to an end rapidly, he was going to be around Dawn Winery much more than usual. He usually welcomes this time of year, when he can spend a little more time to himself and rest. This year, he could feel dread slowly building inside of him. Maybe he couldn’t entertain you and keep himself as composed as he first thought. He greatly underestimated your ability to fluster him, and there was still a part of him that was reluctant to grow close to you. Growing close to someone means there's an opportunity to lose them. He quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind, and decided he’d pay another visit to your chambers.
As he walked across the manor, he thought about if you needed more art supplies. You were quite talented, and he selfishly wondered if you had drawn him more than once. You had given him a happier expression than the one displayed in his portrait, and the thought brought a smile to his face. He decided to find the best supplies money could buy in all of Teyvat as a gift for you. He came to a halt, realizing he was at your room quicker than he expected. He raised his hand to knock softly, and froze in place when he heard your voice from the other side of the door. 
“Diluc, please-” you whined. He was hearing things, he was sure of it. The heat had finally gotten to him and he was becoming delusional. He had to confirm his suspicions, though, and nothing prepared him for the image he met after quietly opening your door. 
You were sprawled out on your bed with your nightdress hiked up to your hips, legs spread impossibly wide. One arm was thrown over your face and covered your eyes while you concentrated and your other hand was at your core, fingers plunging in and out of your pretty pussy. Your breathing was heavy, and Diluc could feel heat climbing up his chest. You were so close. You pulled your fingers out to focus on your puffy clit, wanting to let the feeling last a little longer. You suddenly changed your position, startling your husband. You were completely unaware of your audience as you got onto your knees and shoved your face into your pillows. You continued your ministrations, and your ass was on full display. Diluc’s cock was so hard it was beginning to hurt, and he could tell by your quickened breathing that you were close. With a quiet cry, you came on your fingers. Your juices ran down your hands and shaking thighs as you stilled and sighed. Diluc suddenly turned and quietly bolted out of your room, not bothering to shut your door for fear of the noise alerting you to his presence. He slammed his own door behind him, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his body. He was undeniably aroused, his cock straining against his trousers.
So much for controlling myself, he chided. He wanted to absolutely ravish you. He wanted to touch you, to taste you, and have you crying out his name over and over and over again. He slid down the door, resting his arms over his knees as he sat down. Dragging his palms down his face, he groaned. The image of you touching yourself to the thought of him was burned into his memory, and he wouldn’t forget it anytime soon.
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