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#well. he wants to live and hes holding onto this thought to drive away the thoughts of despair and being abandoned
mihai-florescu · 4 months
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sooniebby · 5 months
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Pleek danny i am begging for dilf nanamin who cant so much as make small talk with Ijichi's son reader without wanting to grab the reader and bend him over the nearest object,,,, huuhdhjdjsh for kinks,,,,,, sir kink, impact play, brat taming,,,, also ftm reader bcs yk <3
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ఌ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
꧁ 𝙆𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
w.c. › 7.1k
Warnings › reader is kinda ditzy. But also unintentionally bratty and kinda crazy. Age difference, obvs. Plot… again—Femboy-ish reader in the fact some of his clothes are more feminine. Slight transphobia but nothing terrible, just two people who suck ass. Slow-ish slow burn like the Toji fic… also just start fucking randomly
Kinks › use of pussy/cunt/feminine terms, sir kink, impact play, brat taming. Reader is called good boy.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
“Excuse my son, I need to drive him to his performance.”
“Hiii~!”
You wave at the man who gets into your dad’s car. You didn’t know what type of job he did actually. He told you, ‘driver’ and that was it. So you never thought to actually question it. Though, seeing the people he usually drives… you’re starting to think he’s a mafia’s getaway driver.
This guy looked to be a bit younger than your dad, though certainly older than you. Blonde hair that was previously slicked back and now a bit messy. He sat in the passenger seat and was looking at his phone, texting someone.
When he was walking up to the car earlier, you were pretty sure he was holding a butcher knife.. but it was dark so you decided to think you were over thinking it.
You sat in the back seat, watching the street lights fade past as your dad practically speeds down to the place you were performing today.
You played the piano. Not as a job, just as something for extra cash as a college student. It helped a lot—but it was hard to find jobs in the area, most were so far that you had to have Ijichi drive you.
The car came to a halt once Ijichi reached the house you were playing at. Some rich function happening. It didn’t matter, as long as it payed well.
“Thanks, Dad. Bye, Blondie.” You said, not waiting for any type of response as you stepped out. But much to your confusion, your dad and blondie got out of the car. Though they didn’t seem to be going towards the house you were. Just looking at the abandoned building a few blocks down.
Huh… maybe your dad really is in the yakuza business.
Shit, why didn’t that pay well?
You pushed back any curiosity to see what they were up to and walk inside the house. The performance, like always, was easy. You chose the fanciest but easiest pieces to play on the piano. It was hard doing it for hours straight with only ten minutes breaks between.
It was around two hours at the party, that your phone started ringing. You tried to ignore it, wanting to finish the piece you were playing. It was going well until the sound of something collapsing outside caught the guests attention. You heard screaming and yelling as everyone was moving around in a frenzy.
But you stayed put, knowing that if you stood up, you’d get trampled. Everyone was acting too frantic for your liking. Once there was a few people left, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the home, staring right at what looked to be a building collapsed onto itself.
It was the building Blondie and your dad was looking at. It confused you as there was a crowd of people running to their fancy cars and speeding away for safety. No one called the police —all too focused on their own lives. You stepped forward, towards the street to the now collapsed building. It was old.. but how did it just break down like that? That’s not normal. Did something push into it?
“Ijichi.”
A hand grabbed your shoulder. You shrieked and began to flail your arms around.
“Unhand me, troglodyte!!! I took taekwondo four years ago! I.. remember something!!”
“Calm down. Your father is just looking for you.”
You flinched when the hand moved to grab one of your arms, effortlessly stopping your failed attempt of taekwondo. You glanced up to see Blondie, his eyebrows furrowed while there was a small little cut on his cheek. Huh, was that always there? His clothes looked dusty, as if he was rolling around in dirt.
Was he in the building before it collapsed?
“Oh, Blondie—!”
“—Nanami.”
“That’s what I said. What happened to that building? It just fell.”
Blondie—Nanami hummed. “Old buildings can fall apart after a few years of being unkept.”
“Uh… okay.” You muttered, weirded out by his answer but decided that would be enough. “Where’s Dad?”
“The car.” Nanami nodded towards your father’s car that was parked farther away from everything. You saw your father leaning against the car, his arm looking a bit.. mangled to say the least. Feeling a sense of panic, you sprinted over there and came to stop once you got a clear picture of what happened to him.
His arm looked as if it was purposely twisted into an uncomfortable position. Ijichi gave you a tight smile, obviously taken from the pain. He used his free hand to lightly pat your head.
“What… happened?” You whispered, glancing over at Nanami as he walked over. You felt an odd sensation of protection as you quickly stood between him and your father, glaring at Nanami with a tint of suspicion.
Nanami raised an eyebrow, obviously confused on why he was being suspected as a the culprit. It was odd because he was obviously hurt as well—though to a lesser extent. The cut on his cheek wasn’t the only one as there was on his forearm that was actually still bleeding through the light bandage that was used from his sleeve.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Ijichi muttered. “Did you get paid?”
“Oh.. no. I forgot to ask for money—don’t know if she’ll pay me now though.”
“Well—as you can see, (Name), I’m badly hurt. I’ll need to go get this checked out.”
“Yeah, of course,” you smiled. “I’ll drive you. I’ve been getting better.”
“No—I need you to do me a favor.” Ijichi glanced over at Nanami before leaning in close to you. “I’m sure you know I’m not just a driver at this point—but for your safety I can’t say too much.”
You gasped, dramatically putting a hand over your lips. “No…. You’re a Yakuza member?!”
Ijichi stared at you as if you were crazy. “What—? Anyway, I’ll need you to stay at Nanami’s for a few weeks. Just so I can get better at the hospital.”
“Blondie?”
“Nanami.” Nanami cut in.
“That’s what I said,” you rolled your eyes. “Why? I can stay at the house alone.”
“It’s not safe. Someone…” Ijichi paused, as if he was wondering how much he should actually tell you. “It’s just not safe. We don’t know if he’d go after you. It’s safer to stay with a sorcerer—uh.”
You blinked. “Sorcerer? Right…” You grinned, thinking your dad was just trying to be subtle about his connection to the Yakuza. “Of course. Dangerous… gang leaders and all the like.”
Ijichi simply sighed. “Yes, sure. It will only be three to four weeks maximum. I’ll be healed by then. Nanami will drive me to the hospital and then he’ll take you home so you can pack a bag, okay?”
“Fine. Doesn’t seem like I have a choice,” you whined, pouting.
“Yes, you didn’t.” Ijichi said. He used his free hand and opened the door to passenger side of the car. You sat in the back once more while Nanami went to the driver side. As he drove, you couldn’t help but glance back at the collapsed building. While Yakuza were dangerous—you haven’t seen them collapse a building before. That’d just draw too much attention to them.
At the very least, you hoped Nanami lived close to your university. It was tiring having to rely on your dad’s car to get places since you lived on the outskirts of the city. But there was an aching feeling in your stomach. How.. did your dad’s arm twist like that? Will it actually be able to be fixed?
Right before you tore your eyes away from the building, you saw the flicker of red eyes.
𖥸
Blondie’s place was actually pretty nice. It was a nice little apartment—decorated decently. Though it was obviously done by an older man. You felt odd being in a stranger’s place but you trusted your father’s judgement so you didn’t complain a lot. At least verbally.
The apartment was on the sixth floor, with nice glass windows in the living room giving you a nice gaze into the city. The building lights kept the room bright even before Blondie turned on the lights. You checked the bag you were carrying, making sure you had your shots. Blondie was carrying the heavier bags—you had practically forced him to.
Just a couple of pouts and blinks with your long eyelashes got him carrying them.
“I have a spare bedroom that you’ll stay in. There’s no attached bathroom.” He said. He walked over to a hallway that had three doors. The left was the bathroom. The right was your new bedroom and the center is obviously Nanami’s room.
As he opened the door, the room was less decorated than the rest. But that made sense—no one would be in this room often. The room didn’t look too small—a queen size bed in the middle and a singular night stand to accompany it.
A small dresser in front of the wall facing the bed—and…
A tv that had a crack on the right side of it. Blondie noticed your shocked face as he placed your bags on the bed. “The movers dropped it.” He simply said.
“Eh. Does it still work?” You muttered, grabbing the remote that rested on the nightstand. You turned it on and what played was cartoons—but in English.
“Somehow it’s stuck on Australian cartoons. I can’t change it, it was bought second hand.” He said. He grabbed the remote and seemed to try again and see what was wrong with the settings. You wondered how he could understand the English but didn’t ask. He must’ve studied English or something.
Nanami hummed as he gave you back the remote. “You can still at least flip through the channels. A few have Japanese subtitles.” Was all he said as he left the room. You glanced over at him as he closed the door behind himself.
Huh. That was abrupt.
You placed your bag on the floor and decided to just unpack everything into the small closet. It was weird to be staying at a man’s place you literally met today but if your dad trusted him, you’d “trust” him too. But at the thought of your dad, you kept thinking of his arm. The mangled arm that couldn’t possibly be fixed. But he seemed so sure.
You knew your dad treated you a bit childish compared to adults your age with their parents. It was okay when you were a kid but ever since you started transitioning it has gotten worse. But you knew why. He just wanted to protect you… It was evident in him not trusting to allow you stay home alone.
The light clink of syringes caught your attention when you accidentally jostled your bag. You took out one syringe and one of the small bottle. It took forever for you to even get the option to take testosterone. As you prepped yourself for your shot, you thought back to the red eyes. Did you imagine that?
Did you actually see that…? Or was your eyes playing tricks on you?
As you packaged the dirty syringe into a plastic bag, ready to be disposed of, there was a knock on the door. The door opened and Blondie was holding a bowl of noodles. He placed them on the nightstand.
“I would’ve made you a proper meal.” He said, vaguely pointing to his properly bandaged arm. “But I need to be careful. When you’re finished, put the bowl in the sink. Good night.”
Then he left. Again.
Gosh, why was he so abrupt when it came to his goodbyes?
The ramen was okay. It’s as good as gas station ramen is gonna be. As you placed the bowl in the sink, you walked past the living room to reach your room when you passed by a photo. The photo was inside a glass cabinet—connected to the small piece framing around the tv. You leaned in close, wanting to see who it was.
It looked to be a much younger Nanami.
Oh wow—was he emo? You laughed to yourself at his haircut. Next to him was a girl, a guy with white hair—strange, and a guy with black hair.
Wow, another emo.
You noticed someone next to Nanami, on his left.
A guy with brown hair. He looked cute—he had a wide smile. Cute.
You hummed. Their uniform looked kinda weird. Nothing close to what you wore in high school. Hm, were they also about in the Yakuza?
Do the Yakuza hire young people?
As you thought deeply on your “profound” question, you pulled away from the cabinet. Well, it wasn’t much of your concern. If you were lucky, Blondie didn’t work for the Yakuza anymore. With a huff, you walked back to your room and went to sleep for the night.
𖥸
“Blondie?”
He wasn’t there. You checked around the apartment the next morning, wanting to simply talk—mainly ask him to make you some breakfast—but he wasn’t there. Or anywhere for that matter. You plopped down into the couch and checked your phone, pouting to yourself as your thumb hovered over your father’s contact.
“She’s always in your shadow! Why did you raise her like that?!”
“Don’t speak about my son like that! You were the one who decided to not raise him, it’s not (Name)’s fault he doesn’t want to go to you.”
“Him, him, him! It’s time you stop allowing this nonsense to continue, Ijichi.”
“Whose last name does he have? Ijichi (Name)! I’ll be the one to raise my son how I see fit.”
“Fine! Continue letting ‘him’ play dress up! When that child of yours is still living in your home while giving you no grandchildren, don’t cry about how you wished you had a normal daughter!”
“Ijichi.”
You gasped, looking up as you saw Blondie staring down at you. Your eyes felt blurry—you couldn’t really see him. Blondie kneeled down, removing your glasses as he handed you a handkerchief. It was soft in your hand, as you lightly dabbed it under your eyes before full on using it to stop your tears. You didn’t even know what happened.
You didn’t want to think about her.
That woman who carried you for nine months.
Gosh, you hated her.
But she still brought you to tears so easily.
“Th…anks… Blondie.” You whispered.
“Nanami.”
“That’s what I said.”
Blondie didn’t seem to care about why you were crying. Or at the very least, was being respectful in not asking. He was still a stranger. You continued to wipe away your tears, silently grateful he was back from wherever he left off to.
“Where’d… You go?”
“Store. I was missing a few things to make breakfast.”
You glanced over to the kitchen and indeed saw him preparing something. When did he even get back? Were you that deep into your trauma flashback that you didn’t hear him? You felt your cheeks flush hot. Fuck, that’s so embarrassing. As you began rubbing a bit harder to try and lessen your puffy red eyes—your phone began to ring.
With speed you’d question back at, you checked to see who was calling.
It wasn’t your father.
Shit, it was just some guy you had in your class. The damn leech when it came to your recent project you were doing for history.
He didn’t want to do anything and embarrassingly enough, you were doing everything at this point.
You tossed your phone onto the coffee table and sighed, draping the handkerchief over your eyes as you leaned back onto the couch. You’d speak to him tomorrow. The sound of chopping and sizzling filled the room as you slowly drifted off to a comfortable nap.
It always felt good to sleep after a cry.
When you woke up, it was dark out. Shit. You glanced around the living room—noticing you had a blanket on you. As you folded the blanket back and rested it on the couch, you walked to the kitchen. You opened the fridge and saw the food Blonde was probably making. It looked to just be an omelette.
Good enough.
After microwaving and sitting down back at the couch to eat you briefly wondered where Nanami could’ve went.
Ah.
Yakuza, probably.
𖥸
“Ijichi, why didn’t you answer my phone call?”
You sighed as you were roughly grabbed by your infamous slacker. You stared at him with no intention to really speak to him—just let him rant about how “you’re not listening to him” or “why do you hate him?” Whatever bullshit he comes up with.
“I’m trying to help with this project, really,” he begins and then just blabbers on.
You don’t pay attention. It goes on for maybe a few minutes until you see a crowd of people leaving their classroom. Perfect. You pushed slacker’s hands off of you and seamlessly phased into the group of people walking away.
It’s only been about two days but it felt like years since you’ve seen your dad.
Huh.
Maybe she was right about—
You shake your head. Fuck that lady! She’s burnt flesh now anyway.
As you walk away from your university, you came face to face with a dilemma. You don’t know where Nanami’s apartment is—you kinda just left on auto pilot to not miss class. And shocker, you never got his number to call him.
Well shit.
You aimlessly walked around the city for a bit, just enjoying the nice day. The sunlight shined down onto you as you giggled a bit. Hm, the sun is nice. You decided to just text your dad for Nanami’s phone number. So while you waited for him to answer your text—you stopped by a nearby cafe for some coffee.
Right when you left the cafe, you noticed something weird.
Red eyes just staring at you—right from across the street. Inside a building that looked to be abandoned. Wow, when did Japan have so many abandoned buildings. You instinctively stepped forward, trying to see if this was just something you were seeing by chance.
You used the cross walk to go across the street, getting face to face with the building. But the eyes were gone. You hummed, starting to believe maybe you were going through it. This is perhaps the longest you’ve gone no contact with your dad—you’re probably just worried. Especially with the injury you saw him with.
A mangled arm.
Anyone would be reeked with worry.
As you pulled out your phone to check if your dad answered you yet, you felt yourself freeze. There was someone watching you. No… something.
You glanced up, looking into one of the building’s window and gasped in shock at the sight of what you were seeing. It wasn’t human. And it looked like a huge centipede, staring at you as if you were a piece of meat. You booked it, immediately.
Your legs burn from running but you didn’t stop. You kept going and going until you felt a bit safe in a public area. Just… what the hell was that? When did centipedes get so big? And it was looking at you so hungrily?! What the hell?! With your thoughts focused solely on your new discovery of big centipedes, you felt a tap on your shoulder.
You shrieked, ready to fight but sighed seeing it was just the slacker.
“Ijichi, man, the fuck are you avoiding me for? I’m seriously trying to get a good grade here! If I fail…”
You tune him out again. Wondering how the fuck he was able to find you. His grip was tight around your arm before it slowly slid to your back. You slightly paid attention to what the hell he think he was doing touching you so much until you felt his hand slightly slide down your waist.
“What in—”
“—look, if the reason you’re just ignoring me because you’re scared about what you really are, most people practically know and don’t care. I don’t care about that queer stuff!”
You blinked at him, wondering how he went from zero to a hundred. You didn’t care that people could probably tell you were trans so long as they didn’t bother you. But now you were about pissed off this guy was making you do more work for this damn project and now making it seem like it was your fault—not his inability to work.
“Listen here, Slacker—”
But you didn’t have to say much when he was pulled off of you. You grinned. “Oh! Great.” Slacker fell to the ground and looked up—you did the same, looking to see who was your savior of the day.
Oh.
Just Blondie.
“Oh, Blondie. I was looking for your apartment, I also need your phone number.” You said, smiling softly, forgetting all about the slacker on the floor. Blondie simply hummed as he grabbed your arm and began guiding you to his place, leaving slacker on the floor yelling after you.
Which was… two blocks from where you were standing.
Oh wow. Definitely made sense in why you got to your university so quick. Blondie’s apartment was just ten minutes away. Ahah… embarrassing.
Once inside the apartment, Blondie seemed set on ignoring you again. Which seemed to be all he was doing these few days you stayed here. But you didn’t know why. You huffed to yourself, pouting as you dropped your bag on the floor and plopped down onto the couch, ready to watch some tv.
“Blondie~!” You sang, grinning lightly. “You’re in the kitchen still, right? Can you get me something to eat? Please~?”
You didn’t get a reply back. You briefly wondered if he wasn’t going to do it so you moved to sit up but was proven wrong when Blondie gave you a turkey sandwich. You quickly took the plate and began eating, humming after having not eaten lunch. But Blondie was still staring down at you, his eyebrow slightly raised as if he was waiting for you to say something.
Your lips pursed as you thought what he needed to hear until you gasped. “Oh, thanks, Blondie.” You muttered with your mouth still full as you began eating again.
You only got a huff in response as he walked away to do whatever he usually does. As you ate, you thought back to that centipede. Was that really real? There’s no such thing as monsters, anyway. You wondered if you should tell Blondie—but what could he do realistically?
Well, he’s in the Yakuza, maybe he could find a way.
𖥸
It’s been about two weeks now. Your dad still hasn’t returned much of your texts but you had gotten closer to Blondie. As much as you could anyway. He was very cut and dry with his answers to you.
You ask him how his day went, he’d answer with a curt: “okay.”
Ask him about what he does for work: “office job.”
He seemed to have trouble really looking at you when you spoke to him. He’d glance at you and then suddenly look at whatever he was doing with such intensity as you tried asking him questions. Or even just talking to him. Boring!
You were starting to believe he had a problem with the clothes you wore. When you dressed in baggy clothing, he would look at you more. But whenever you wore a tighter top or even shorts that showed a sliver of your ass, it was like looking at you would’ve burned his retinas!
Geez, did he not like guys in tighter clothing?
Damn… you must’ve been pretty ugly to him.
As you mentally cried to yourself about being seen as ugly on the couch, you glanced at your phone. You haven’t seen that slacker after you sent in the project. Of course you told the professor you did most and if not all of the work. So, you got an A—obviously.
You haven’t seen any human sized centipedes in a while so you were set to just believe you were imagining it. As you tugged down at your shorts that were acting like underwear at this point, you heard the front door open. Oh, Blondie’s back!
You grinned and went over to him, smiling. “Blondie! You’re early, they let you off?”
Blondie hummed. “I had a half day.” He simply said, walking over to the living room as he sat down with a grunt. He looked a bit tired so you decided to just not say anything else to him. There was always a few days when he just came home with a look of dread and was totally silent.
You were really starting to believe he was a Yakuza member.
As you turned to walk to your room, you bent down for a second to pick up a pillow that had fallen when you previously jumped off the couch. When you stood back you, you turned around to see Blondie staring at you with wide eyes. You simply smiled at him and placed the pillow back on the couch. Weird, why was he staring at you like that.
“I’m going to my room. Call me if you need me.” You said, waving goodbye as you sprinted off to your room, not knowing that Blondie’s gaze didn’t leave you at all.
𖥸
Nanami rubbed the bridge of his nose as he tried not to think about you essentially just flashing him earlier. When you had bent down to grab the pillow, he saw that your shorts, that were too short in his opinion, the crotch area had kinda sort of—clung to one side. So he saw it, at least just one lip—of your cunt.
And he felt angry with himself that his cock actually twitched at the sight. Was he some damn animal? He’d certainly been feeling like that the last two weeks. He couldn’t exactly… speak well with you. You just staring up at him with your cute smile but painfully naughty clothing.
Who just wears a shirt that is practically clinging to your body that it hides nothing to the imagination! And your shorts… who wears such short shorts with no underwear?
He wasn’t sure if he could take another few weeks with you here. Not if he didn’t want to just slam you against the wall and take you there.
But no, he couldn’t do that. You were Ijichi’s son. And he was pretty sure when Ijichi said: “take care of my son.” He didn’t mean fuck his son. Though he kinda wished he did.
It’ll be fine. Just a minimum of two more weeks… then you’d be gone back at home with Ijichi.
𖥸
Nanami wished he had just gone straight to bed. He was sitting on the couch watching tv when you suddenly appeared, dressed in a stupid crop top and short shorts. You plopped down beside him before resting your head right on his lap. When he tried to push you away, you only whined, pouting up at him to let you stay.
Damn brat.
He tried focusing back on the show he was watching as you seemed to only have wanted contact with him. You hummed softly before giggling.
“Nana—Blondie,” you said, looking over at him. “Today’s my mom’s death anniversary.”
He glanced down at you, a bit confused on why you didn’t seem bothered on your mother being dead.
“She died in a car crash. Drunk driving. The hospital said she burned to death in her car… witnesses said they heard her screaming as they tried to open the car door and out the fire.” You sighed, a soft smile on your lips as you recount your mother’s death. “I was 18. It was a good early birthday gift. But Dad said I shouldn’t be so cruel to her even if she was a bitch.”
“It’s not strange,” you said, turning your face to rest on Nanami’s leg as you glanced up at him. Your eyelashes batting as your lips were pulled into a pout. “To not care about a bitch dying, right? I’m sure there’s someone everyone has that they just can’t wait to die.”
Nanami wasn’t sure what brought this out. He was actually a bit worried honestly that you were so nonchalant about death. Though he could tell that despite this act you were pulling, her death did affect you… but perhaps it truly did bring a sense of peace. Especially if her death was truly that horrible.
“I can’t speak on that.” Was all he said, deciding it was best to let the conversation die out. He’d tell Ijichi to schedule you a therapist once he’s better.
“Hm, yeah, I did bring it out of nowhere. Anyway, my birthday is in four days! Getting me anything?” You giggled.
“No. I didn’t know it was your birthday.”
“What? Blondie~! Whaddya mean? I’m practically your roommate by now, and roommates give each other gifts.”
“Are you truly my roommate when I do everything?”
Which was true. You were more like a freeloader. Nanami did the chores, cleaned up mostly after you, and paid for literally everything. You were silently forbidden on doing your piano jobs so you were kinda shit out of luck, relying on Nanami at this point.
You simply huffed. “Meanie.” As you moved your head to face Nanami’s stomach. Nanami couldn’t help but flinch as he felt your nose accidentally brush against his crotch area. His grip on the remote tightened as he so desperately wished he was rude enough to push you off of him.
It was quiet for bit, just the tv going on with the show Nanami was watching. And subconsciously, Nanami began to calm down a bit and just allowed you to stay there. Maybe you really did just want some comfort.
There was something pressing against his crotch. He glanced down to see you, purposefully, rubbing your nose against his crotch before pulling away. You yawned, acting as if you were just essentially teasing him and grinned.
“I’m going to bed, Blondie. Think about what you’re getting me for my birthday!” You winked, standing up as you walked back to your room. He was so sure you were intentionally swaying your hips. What the hell was that?
And why the hell was he horny from a freaking nose rub?!
𖥸
Blondie, Blondie, Blondie
That’s all you called him. Occasionally, you’d say, “Nana—” but then quickly switch back to Blondie. It was as if you were intentionally trying to get him upset. Nanami didn’t know how a calm man like Ijichi could have a son like you.
The only similarity you two had was the glasses you both wore. It actually was the same brand and shape—weird.
You seemed to have two pairs of glasses though. You were the ones similar to Ijichi’s often and this pair of red ones whenever you were feeling “annoying.” Nanami had come to expect the red cat eye glasses whenever you wanted to be a little brat.
And look at that, you were wearing them right now.
Nanami was sitting on the couch, checking something in his phone when you suddenly appeared behind him. He didn’t look up, waiting for you say something until he felt your arms wrap around his neck. His body stiffened as you leaned close, pressing your lips against the tip of his ear.
“Guess what’s tomorrow?” You whispered. “B-i-r-t-h-d-a-y.” You intentionally made each letter sound breathy, pausing just a split second to let them sit heavy in the air.
You pulled away and giggled. “Got my present? You gotta make up for Dad,” you went to sit on the couch and glanced over at Nanami who looked as if he would keel over if a gust of wind blew past him. His grip was tight on his phone, you were a bit worried it’d crack.
“What was that?” Nanami suddenly said, still looking straight.
“Was what? It was for dramatic effect!” You said honestly, not knowing how sexual you had just sounded in his ear. Nanami turned over to face you with a look of pure disbelief while you simply grinned.
“Aw~ poor Blondie, don’t take it so seriously!” You playfully pat his leg before grabbing the tv remote and turning it on. You were engulfed into the random Japanese drama playing while Nanami could only just stare at you in awe.
Wow. You really were a damn brat.
It was fine though. He had the perfect birthday present now.
𖥸
It was your birthday!!
Which meant no school. Why would you willingly go to school on your day? Only losers do that! You sighed comfortably on the couch as you turned on the tv to play random Korean dramas for most of the day. And that’s how you spent most of the day.
It was around noon when your phone buzzed. You expected it to be one of your very few friends that you have but much to your shock with was your dad! You squealed happily and quickly opened the text he sent.
‘Happy Birthday, 🐹, I’ve been feeling better, don’t worry about me. I’ll be able to call you soon. I hope you aren’t giving Nanami too much trouble.’
You pouted but quickly texted him back, stating that you and Blondie were practically pals at this point. It brought a smile to your lips to see the hamster emoji though. You had quite chubby cheeks even has an adult that your dad loving pinching. It always looked bigger when you ate.
It was commented more when you were a kid but there was still some people who would—lovingly—call you a hamster in disguise.
Finally having confirmation that your dad was at least alright, you felt a heavy weight lift off your shoulders. You yawned and stretched out, turning your attention back to the tv as you spent the rest of the day lounging around.
It was dark out when Nanami finally came back home. You waved from the couch, not bothering to get up. You were always lazy on your birthday. Definitely from being a bit too spoiled on these days. But hey, at least you didn’t act like this everyday.
You could see Nanami did have a small box in his hand as he moved to the kitchen. You silently hoped it was a cake as you finally sat up a bit and moved to join Nanami in the kitchen.
“So now you’re greeting me,” Nanami said, placing the box in the fridge. You pursed your lips, wondering why he seemed a bit upset. It wasn’t like you greeted him all the time when he walked through the door.
“You like that stuff? Aw~,” you walk over to him, resting your hand on his shoulder. “You like those couple stuff? So cute, Blondie!”
You hummed when you felt his hand grab yours, slowly pulling it away from his shoulder. You glanced up, wondering if you perhaps went a bit too far but Nanami didn’t seem angry. On the contrary, he seemed like his usual self. He used his free hand to fix his glasses as his grip on yours tighten.
“I’ve allowed you to continually act like a brat throughout your stay here—I know what you truly need as a birthday present.”
With sudden strength, you found yourself pinned against the wall, his body pressed up against yours. You were wearing a long shirt but your usual short shorts.
“Blon—”
“—Sir. Since Nanami is a problem for you to say, that should be easy for you.”
You blushed slightly, having never really called someone that before. But somehow, you didn’t find it in you to disobey. Nanami hitched up your shirt, grabbing the front end and pressing it against your lips. It took you a second but you bit down on it.
“Good boy.”
Oh no.
Y’know, you did find Nanami attractive, but you were always the type of person to want to stick to your age range. But this…
“You kept whining about wanting a birthday present,” his hands gripped your shorts, “do you want this?” He whispered against your ear, practically giving you an out.
You gripped the wall in front of you but felt yourself nodding, blushing in embarrassment.
“I need words, (Name).” He said. You felt your legs tremble. You wanted him to say your name again.
“Yes… keep going.” You whispered.
Nanami hummed in approval as he pulled down your shorts, making you left up your legs so they can be fully taken off. Now you were standing in the kitchen, pressed against the wall with just a shirt. Nanami’s hand traced your upper thigh, his hand ghosting your cunt but he never brought it close enough.
You whined slightly, looking back at him with pleading eyes. He gave you small smirk.
“Despite it being your birthday, you acted bad today, Baby.”
“H..huh? How..?” You muffled out through your t-shirt, a look of surprise in your eyes.
“You don’t really remember?” Nanami gripped your hips tightly as he forced you to pull away from the wall. Your hands pressed tightly against the wall as your back arched. His hands slid down your hips to your butt as he harshly gripped them, spreading them apart teasingly as you whimpered.
“You can’t have short term memory loss, (Name). Think.”
You thought for a second before humming. “Greet… didn’t greet you..” you muffled.
“Good boy. So you know you’ll have to be punished for not properly greeting me? It’s what’s brats get for misbehaving.”
“m… not a brat.”
Smack!
“I don’t like liars.” Was all he said before you felt another slap against your ass. You whimpered, your body shaking at each spanking. He wasn’t gentle in the slightest, not leaving room for a break. It was continuous spankings against each cheek, earning deep screams from you.
The spankings filled the silent apartment, swirling in symphony with your high pitched screams. You didn’t think this was really a good birthday present but you couldn’t deny that it was actually feeling a bit good in a weird way.
After a few more slaps, Nanami began rubbing your sore butt cheeks, pressing a wet kiss into your shoulder.
“Good boy. You handled that perfectly.” He said, leaning close as he grabbed your left leg and lifted it up. Your back was now pressed against his chest as you tried to keep a steady balance with now just one foot.
“Th…ank…you.. Sir.” You muttered out, tears staining your cheeks as you looked up at him. Nanami cooed, wiping away a few of your tears with his free hand.
“Now, do you think you deserve your present?”
You nodded, “yes.. yes! Please..”
Nanami seemed to take a bit of pity on you as he simply nodded. He wanted to tease you a bit more but he decided that since it was your first time and birthday, he’d be nicer. Though next time he’d be much more cruel.
You whimpered as you felt his hand graze your cunt, teasing one finger against your wet folds. It had been a minute since you even touched yourself down there. You were always too anxious that Nanami would be able to hear you or he might come home earlier than expected.
Just feeling his finger teasing you could bring you to an orgasm, but Nanami had different plans. He slipped in two fingers, earning a soft mewl from you. His fingers were large, easily stretching you out as he got you ready for his cock.
It wasn’t until you felt yourself close to an orgasm was when Nanami finally pulled out. Damn tease.
The feeling of a cock rubbing between your folds caused you to flinch as you gripped at the wall as some type of support. This position wasn’t the most comfortable but you were way too horny to walk to the bedroom or couch. You wanted him now.
Nanami was slow as he thrusted his cock inside your tight cunt. He grunted as you gasped, trying to get used to the large stretch. His fingers didn’t compare to it! Even though you were prepared, it took some effort for him to fully be inside of you.
You shivered, suddenly thinking that you were essentially fucking your dad’s ‘coworker.’ Fuck, well, maybe a few pouts and batting of the eyelashes will get you off with minimal punishment.
“Fuck… I’m sorry,” Nanami suddenly whispered.
“Mhm?”
With great force, your whole body was suddenly shoved against the wall once more as Nanami’s hands were on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. You felt him almost pull out fully until he slammed right back inside of you, causing you to cry out in shock.
You helplessly gripped at the wall for some sort of purchase as Nanami fucked into you like an animal. His hands gripped your hips tightly, moving you as if you were a fleshlight on his cock. The only sounds coming from his was animalistic grunts.
Your cunt clamped tightly around Nanami’s cock, as you tried to babble something but only moans left your lips. Nanami seemed so heavily into chasing his own orgasm at this point.
“Si…Sir… ‘m com..!” You tried to say but could only cry out as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a waterfall. Your fingers dug ineffectually into the wall as a way of purchasing yourself against Nanami’s harsh thrusts.
He continued going even after you came, his hips slapping against your sore ass. As his grip on your hips tightened to were it felt as if his fingers was digging into the skin, he slammed his hips one last time. His cock was deep inside when he finally cummed, coating your insides.
You shrieked, shocked that he came inside. The warm cum slowly seeped down your thighs as you felt your knees collapse but Nanami was quick to hold you up.
Nanami leaned against your back, breathing heavily. “Sorry… I didn’t mean for that happen..” he muttered. “Just lost control.”
You hummed, gently wiggling your butt. “Maybe I’m just that pretty.” You teased, looking back at Nanami. You giggled slightly, enjoying his unimpressed face.
A moan left your lips as you felt his cock slowly slide out before pushing back it. You stared at Nanami in shock, surprised an older man seemed to have a quick reload. He simply grinned.
You were screwed.
𖥸
You hummed softly as Nanami rubbed your sore butt cheeks, rubbing some cream on it to stop the pain. It had been just a few days after your birthday and now this “spanking” thing was constant.
And fucking. Very often.
Nanami was always cool and collected during your punishments but whenever he got his dick inside your pussy, he could never control himself properly. It was honestly funny. And a bit scary that he could do more than one round so quickly.
The most you two have done so far was three.
And that was just a few minutes ago.
“Hm, Blondie,” you still called him that outside of sex, “did I tell you about this huge centipede I saw in this abandoned building? It had red eyes and everything, it was like… human sized!”
Nanami’s calming massage suddenly stopped. You looked back and raised an eyebrow, wondering what was wrong. He was looking at you with wide eyes—which was shocking, Nanami never looked at you like that before.
Maybe being a Yakuza member didn’t mean he could handle it.
Well, shoot.
But you couldn’t help but think Nanami wasn’t shocked about the centipede.
More about that you saw it.
Huh. Yakuza members are weird.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
I think I made reader a bit weird lolol. Way longer than I thought it was going to be. I hope I did nanami justice, I have trouble writing him for some reason
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @remdayz @flurrina @iwishtobeacrow @smellwell @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @tomoeroi @mello-life69 @rhetorical-conscience @tehyunnie @ofclyde
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
Text
im ngl i've been driving myself insane with the thought of harboring Ghost in your home. Like in the 09 mission The Hornet's Nest where Roach falls off the one roof?
Yeah, make that Ghost and there's no other choice but for the guys to leave him behind. The LZ is too hot, the enemies are swarming like moths to a flame.
The floor comes to him.
He grits his teeth at the agony, choking back a scream. Ghost just fell off a height that should've broken at least a couple ribs; maybe they did, he doesn't know, there's too much adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He's seeing duplicates, the buildings in front of him blurred. There's buzzing in his head, loud like bees. His chest aches, it burns with the lack of oxygen. His throat feels swollen as he wheezes; each breath feels like shards of glass in his lungs.
The white noise dissipates slowly. His vision realigns, lines and details sharpening. The unseen force that squeezed his throat finally lets go, setting him free from its deadly hold., his chest expanding to the point of discomfort— deep inhale, loud exhale.
Breathe. Focus.
There's radio chatter in his ear— Price snarling at Nikolai to fucking wait, that they can't leave him there in the hornet's nest but even with his vision blurred, Ghost can see that they're getting lit up, and he's not gonna have the entire team blow to bits in the helo over him.
He's just one man, and there's a whole world to save.
There's a searing pain in his arm when he shifts, he can't remember the last time his eyes welled up with tears, but fuckin' hell does it hurt.
His hand trembles violently, and it takes him a couple of tries to finally get his thumb to firmly press down on the button of the radio in the front of his tac vest.
"Leave me! Just go!" he roars.
Price argues back that no man is to be left behind, but Ghost can hear far too many voices in a different language get louder. They'll be killed hovering in the air like that.
"Price! Go!"
The voices in his ear are deafening. He rips off his headset, letting it sit around his neck.
The helicopter above him disappears.
Good.
The avalanche of footsteps gets closer and with a strangled noise that scrapes the back of his throat, he moves. Move to safety, get away from them, hide.
Ghost pushes forward until he stumbles, falling onto one knee— using his injured arm to stabilize. White hot pain licks from the wrist up, flames threatening to consume him whole.
A few stray tears escape the corners of his eyes.
He's too blinded by the throbbing in his body to realize that someone is grabbing his other arm.
"Can you hear me?"
Ghost thinks he might be hallucinating your voice. His agony is transcendent.
"Hey! We don't have much time!"
He turns his head to his left, and there you are. A civilian, by the looks of it. And you're trying to lead him away. Where? Are you leading him to a trap?
"Quickly! They're almost here! I can hide you, but you need to get on your feet!" you piped.
Ghost gets up without a fight, decision-making dulled by everything he's feeling.
"Come on, this way!" Your hand grabs his forearm tightly as you drag him away. He trudges behind you, breathing ragged.
Clarity comes and goes, but then he feels your small palms push him forward, into your tiny home.
His eyes drag as he takes in his surroundings. A tiny television in the living room to his left, and an ugly brown couch placed in front of it. To this right is your kitchen, food still steaming on the stove, and a scratched teak dinner table with just two chairs sits by a dirty window.
Quaint.
"Okay, okay. They shouldn't come in here, but if they do, I want you to go to the bathroom and sit in the tub with the curtain closed. Understand?"
His chin tips forward unbidden.
"Good. Uhm, I saw that your right arm is injured. A makeshift splint will have to do, alright?" You briskly walk away, opening the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink.
Ghost stiffens, swallowing thickly. If you pull anything underhanded, he's going to have to kill you.
The tension melts from his shoulders when he sees that you're simply pulling out a first aid kit, and some other stuff to wrap his most likely broken arm up.
You pull out a chair before opening the kit. "Sit. I'm not standing while I do this."
He huffs but complies. "Yes, ma'am." Unafraid to order a stranger around. How peculiar.
The minutes drag on, each one more agonizing than the last. It's a relentless cycle of pain... until it finally stops. The residual pain makes him dry heave.
"Whoa there, please don't puke."
Ghost gives a pained chuckle. "I'll try."
Your fingers tighten the knot in the fabric. "Can't say it's pristine, but it's better than having your arm dangle uselessly, I think." You stare at your handiwork for a second longer, before rising from your seat.
"I'm not sure who you are, but you look like actual military and not a thug with a gun. Did you have a team?" you quietly ask as you put away the medical supplies.
He cuts his eyes to you and doesn't answer.
"Yeah, I suppose it wouldn't be smart of you to blindly give information I don't need to know."
He shakes his head imperceptibly.
"Right. Well, I'm sure you know that we need to lay low, so unfortunately, that means no tv. Sorry." How cheeky.
Ghost simply hums in response.
He looks down at his injured arm. It's wrapped tightly, enough to keep it from moving but not enough to cut off his blood flow.
Not the work of a regular civilian.
You must've noticed him scrutinizing your work because you speak up. "I've worked in the medical field before. Nothing spectacular, but I can deal with a broken bone or two."
He closes his eyes, feeling the exhaustion of the day creep up on him.
So bloody tired.
Ghost takes a breath and opens his eyes. No rest for the wicked, he thinks.
He puts his headset back on, as well as he can with his one arm.
There's a crackling sound in his ear.
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ghouljams · 11 months
Text
Cowboy time.
Ghost doesn't let you call him his name. It's his last line of defense against you and your intolerable ability to get under his skin. It drives you crazy. He introduces himself to everyone in town as Simon and yet you are forced to keep him at arms length. Even though he had you screaming his name when you first met him, if you so much as attempt to call him "Simon" he shuts it down immediately. You think he knows it bothers you too, but you're both too stubborn to bring it up.
Well that's just fine with you, you don't want to call him Simon anyway.
He really lives up to his call sign following you around town while you run errands. You didn't want to invite him but your dad insisted you needed an escort. Which Ghost thinks was a smart idea watching the way you lean over the counter and flirt with the shop keeper at every stop to try and get discounts. It takes everything in him to not throw you over his shoulder and haul you away from the lecherous stares those men fix you with.
It takes two stores for him to crack, and it's the puppy eyes you fix him with when you see the newly hatched chicks at the supply store. "Be good," he tells you, checking the neat little list you fixed for him against bags of feed.
"But look how cute they are," you pout, scooping up a chicken to show him. He glances at you, unamused.
"I've seen cuter," he hauls a bag of feed over his shoulder like it weighs nothing, "Be good and I'll give you a reward when we're done."
You roll your eyes and settle the chick back under the heat lamp, feeling Ghost close behind as you make your way to the counter to negotiate price. As soon as you start to flirt you feel Ghost's glare, hear his warning growl. You sigh and try to rely on whatever good will you have in town. It doesn't work as well. You'll have to redo you budgets if this keeps up, but you're good if only so you can see what Ghost has thought up as a reward.
When you finally finish all your shopping Ghost loads the truck, glaring at every other guy who offers a hand. You tug the cab door open and he reaches past you to shut it, leaning close.
"So you're just being a full on dick now?" You ask, turning to lean against the truck, trying to act like having him so close doesn't make your heart start to beat out of your chest.
"You want your reward or not? " He asks, tipping his head to one side, a brow raised like you're the one being difficult. You narrow your eyes at him, almost wishing you'd gotten the deals you wanted now.
"Depends on what it is"
"Eyes closed," you sigh and close your eyes, "open your mouth."
"You want me to get on my knees too?" You can't help the sarcastic comment, but Ghost is close enough you can almost feel his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.
"Just open it."
You huff, and open your mouth, sticking out your tongue for good measure. Just to tease him. You feel him move, hear the rustle of fabric and then... and then.
His fingers press up against your jaw, holding you in place with a rough hand around your throat as his tongue slides against yours, licking once to edge it into his mouth, lips closing around the wet muscle before his tongue darts out again to lick into your mouth. Hot and insistent as he kisses you filthy, all tongue and teeth. He makes your head spin, your fingers twist into his shirt for something to hold onto. Ghost pulls away too soon, his tongue replaced by something hard and honeyed.
He's already walking away when you open your eyes, mask fixed back in place as he circles the truck to open the passenger door and climb in. You wonder which was the reward, the kiss or the sucker. You're still mad at him as you climb in and start up the truck.
"So... Si-"
"Nope."
You pout the rest of the way home.
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moog-rt · 3 months
Text
GO TO HELL [ch. 1]
Tumblr media
[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]
Previous: Prologue
➨ Chapter One
Next: Chapter Two
Premise:
You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.
Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.
Warning(s): blood, gore, cannon-typical violence
If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:
Otherwise, enjoy!
♡ ♡ ♡
CHAPTER ONE
Your head throbbed, and cradling it with your hand only turned it into a piercing pain rather than dulling it.
You were careful as you worked to stand up. It was hard to grab hold of anything sturdy enough to support your weight, and upon closer inspection, it turned out you were taking a power nap in a pile of garbage. And, boy, was that shit rank.
You stumbled your way onto solid ground whilst picking gunk-covered plastic from your shirt and hair.
The surroundings that greeted you were unlike anything you could imagine. The sky appeared polluted with red smog so thick you couldn’t see the sun, though it didn’t smell like the kind of pollution you were used to. Rather than chemical, it stank of smoke and decay.
Every breath you took of this new atmosphere felt thick and raspy. You weren’t sure you could really even consider it breathable. You were probably inhaling a handful of carcinogens by the second.
From what you could see through the gap of the two buildings that made up the alley you were in, there was a city. It was as if the materials of the buildings were selected to complement the sky. Everything was a different shade of red or burgundy. The plumes of smoke that tunneled up in the distance were mildly concerning, though they didn’t seem to be an immediate threat.
It was all enough to drive a clear sense of dread through your gut. No way in Hell were you supposed to be here. You should be on your way to Devon’s place- No, you were at Devon’s place, in their living room.
And now you were…well, you didn’t really know. That was kind of the problem.
The panic only truly set in after you tripped, scraping your knees on the filthy cement. You didn’t want to know what caused that dark brown, slightly chunky stain. Turning to face the lump that caused your stumble, your stomach plummeted. Face paled.
That was a corpse. A whole not-so-human corpse. Mangled and lying motionless in a pool of blood that was beginning to dry.
In an instant, you threw yourself off of the ground, backpedaling away from the body. What on Earth could have caused their limbs to bend in so many directions? On second thought, you hoped it would stay a mystery.
You couldn’t ruminate on it for long before you felt something large grab your shoulder, hoisting you around so your back was facing the alley. You winced as the grip grew tighter and looked up to see a green-skinned man with jagged teeth protruding from his mouth. 
In that instant, it felt as if your heart had been launched a thousand feet in the air.
His pitch-black eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to your face, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move or utter a single word. His grip moved to your neck, turning your head around so he could see you from every angle. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, he brought his nose to your cheek and inhaled deeply.
“A human,” he said in a grumbly voice. You could see a corner of his lips curl into a wicked smile. “That’s a first. It’d be a shame to let you go to waste.”
Go. You had to go.
To have a freeze-response in a situation like this was a death sentence. You hadn’t the slightest clue what this man’s–this thing’s–intentions were with you, but you had an inkling that it wouldn’t be pleasant.
You had to move. Even if it was just an inch, just enough to convince yourself that you still could. You would take either fight or flight over this.
“Is that soul still living?”
Your eyes flicked over to the source of the new voice. A tall, reptilian-looking creature with eyes that seemed to be bugging out of its head. They were no more comforting than the man who was only a few inches away from strangling you.
“Fuck off! I found ‘er. She’s mine!” Apparently, the lizard-man was enough to draw your assailant’s attention away from you.
Lizard-man did not in fact fuck off. That response was the confirmation that only further drew him in. Looking around, you noticed other inhuman creatures turning their attention toward the three of you.
The lizard-man made a sudden lunge for you, digging claws into the green man’s arms. He hollered out in pain with an endless string of curses.
In that moment, you felt his grip on you loosen, and you dropped to the ground like dead weight. This was your chance. Likely your only chance before both of them pounced on you at once. Maybe more by the looks of the other creatures closing in, as well.
Relief washed over you as you slowly moved your arm to push you up. The mental confines over your body had been released, and just in time. You were able to clumsily roll out of the way as the men threw each other to the ground, and with wobbly legs, you promptly hauled ass out of there.
You could hear screams of rage and surprise as you shoved through the people on the street, apologizing occasionally. You could feel dozens of pairs of eyes burning into the back of your head, and you were almost certain that some had given chase.
The odd buildings blurred past you. You may have caught a glimpse of a shop with televisions on display and another that looked as though human limbs were hanging on meat hooks, but this was no time for window shopping. All of it caused your head to spin from both physical and emotional whiplash.
The first corner you turned revealed a massive light-up sign that towered above everything else with text saying, “Welcome to Hell.”
What kind of twisted joke was this?
You ducked into another alleyway. Nobody was around, but you could still hear yelling close behind you. Your heart felt as though it stopped for a second as you took notice of a massive barricade blocking off the only exit. The first sliver of your luck finally showed itself to you in the form of a small gap that could be just big enough for you to fit.
You were forced to slow down in order to wiggle your way through it, allowing your pursuers to catch up. Just when you thought you had cleared the blockade, that big green hand wrapped around your ankle, yanking you back.
You cried out and pulled as much as you could until your foot slid out of your sock, successfully freeing you. Padding barefoot through this wretched city wouldn’t be pleasant, but you were sure it was better than whatever those things had planned for you.
As you pushed back into a sprint, you heard the green man’s voice screaming at the others about how he wouldn’t let them through before him. That was fine by you. He was much too big to fit through that hole, and you doubted he could scale the wall completely. If he was dead set on not letting anyone pass before him, then you probably had all the time in the world. Even so, you wouldn’t feel safe until you could get as far as your legs could carry you. 
So, ignoring your burning lungs and pounding heart, you pushed forward. Through the streets that grew more and more disheveled, collapsed buildings, cracked and upheaved asphalt roads. The lack of shoes only made it that much worse as your feet were getting sore. You were slowing down, but you refused to stop until you found someplace suitable to take refuge.
After the last main row of the city, there was a hill. And on top of that hill, there was a hotel.
Or so the sign on it said. Happy Hotel.
You could tell it was probably supposed to light up, but it wasn’t on, either because it was daytime (you assumed) or the bulbs were burnt out. Both seemed equally likely. The place was massive but appeared to be a hodgepodge of things all shoved into one, a cruise ship crashed into one side, a train on top of the roof… But despite its general run-down appearance, the stained glass windows remained untouched as if they were brand new.
It would be a gamble on whether this place was inhabited or not, but at least it was out of that shit show of a city. Probably the safest thing you’d come across thus far.
Besides, it was a hotel. Maybe you still had one of your cards in your pocket. If not, there was always Apple Pay, right?
The final push up the hill really did you in, leaving you panting and covered in sweat at the front door. You were dying to sit down and rest, but you wouldn’t feel comfortable doing so until you were inside. 
Seeing the building up close left you even more confused about whether or not the place was still running. The majority of the double front doors were stained glass with an apple shape in the center of each. It was quite beautiful. But at the same time, the edges of the frame appeared chipped and rotted, showing the building’s true age.
You were just thankful when the door creaked open without a fight. You didn’t want to resort to breaking in through one of those wonderful windows. With how loud it would be, you might as well scream out your arrival.
Aside from some of the detailed woodwork and repetitive apple iconography, the inside of the hotel was a bit sad to put it frankly. Little to no furniture. Cobwebs coating everything. The chandelier holding on by a thread (maybe the cobwebs were preventing it from falling). There was a minifridge, though!
You couldn’t imagine you would be lucky enough to find a cold bottle of water in there, but you decided to check to be sure. The cool air alone, wafting out as you opened its door, alleviated some of your discomfort. Unfortunately, there was no water or any beverage, for that matter. Inside were a couple of applesauce(?) cups and a styrofoam take-out container.
The fact that there was anything at all was concerning as it was a bit of confirmation there were already inhabitants. You would need to keep looking for a safe place to stay unless they ended up being the odd few in this town that weren’t out for blood.
On cue, cool metal prodded the back of your neck as you were closing the fridge, and you froze.
“What are you doing here?” asked the person behind you. Their voice was cold and harsh, and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. So much for going unscathed.
“I was just looking for somewhere to rest. I’m sorry for intruding,” you said just above a whisper, raising your hands instinctively. 
“You want to stay here?” a chipper voice cut through the air, echoing a bit in the large, empty foyer. They sounded almost happy you were trespassing. “Vaggie, this could be our first guest!”
“Babe, the hotel isn’t even open yet,” the first voice sighed before the metal was pulled away from your skin. You took that as an invitation to turn around.
Before you stood two young women–you’d guess late teens or early twenties. They were the most human-like people you had the pleasure of coming across since waking up in a hot pile of garbage. The only thing that threw you off was their grey and porcelain white skin tones. It was as if they were pulled out of a black-and-white movie from the ‘50s.
You’d take what you could get at this point. At least they didn’t have scales.
“We’ll just have to move up our grand opening then,” the taller girl sang with a wide, sharp-toothed grin. She bounded over to you, squatting down to meet you at eye level. “Would you be interested in a shot at redemption? It doesn’t matter what you’ve stolen or who you’ve murdered. Everyone deserves a second chance!”
Was this chick for real? What did redemption have to do with a hotel? And why would you need to be redeemed?
Your mouth hung open as your eyes bobbed between the two strangers.
“Wait a second…” The shorter girl–who you realized was the one holding a fucking spear to your neck–suddenly went wide-eyed. “You’re a human. Jesus, she’s a human!”
The blonde stared at her for a moment before turning back to you with knit eyebrows.
“Really? How do you know?” she asked with a tilt of her head as her eyes darted all over you, looking for some tell-tale sign of your humanity.
In what world is it surprising to see a human? You hadn’t been shipped to Mars. That you were certain of. 
Then you came to your own realization. 
Devon must have drugged you! That was the only way this could make any sense. Was it acid? LSD? You’d have to ask them after you sobered up. Or maybe after you wring their scrawny little neck, because the therapy you’d need after this was sure to cost a fortune.
The hand that landed on your shoulder caused you to flinch. The shorter girl–Vaggie–was kneeling in front of you now. Her touch was delicate as if she was worried she’d break you if she put enough pressure. A stark contrast to the way she treated you a minute ago.
“How did you get here?” she asked in a much softer tone than earlier.
You let out a huff of air, a sorry excuse for a laugh. You smiled, shaking your head as your body slumped back against the fridge.
“I don’t even know where here is,” you laughed. “I was in my friend’s apartment one second and being hunted down by a mob of demons the next.”
The two exchanged a look before helping you to your feet. They settled you down on a couch, one of the few pieces of furniture they had, and got you a glass of water to sip on. The scrapes and cuts you had gotten during your chase, or possibly before it, were treated to, as well. The foot that lost its sock was particularly nasty.
They introduced themselves and explained that you were in Hell. You reckon you should have figured that one out from the big-ass sign you saw while running for your life.
In return, you told them the last few things you could remember before ending up here. Helping your friend with a demon-summoning ritual and getting dragged through a glowing hole in the ground as a result.
“Sounds like that backfired a bit,” Vaggie said. You couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Yeah, a bit. That’s what I get for doing my friend a solid, I guess,” you shrugged, leaning back as you gulped down more of the water. 
“Oh, don’t say that. At the end of the day, you helped a friend, and you found us! And we’ll definitely make sure you get home safe and sound,” Charlie grinned as she gently placed a hand on your knee.
You gave a small smile in return. You’re not sure how much you believed in her words, but it was sweet of her to try to reassure you. Her hope was almost infectious, and you could use as much of that as you could get.
“Also, you’re totally welcome to stay here for as long as you need! We’ve got plenty of rooms, and I’m sure we’ll start getting more furniture soon, and if there’s any food you’d like us to get, we can–”
“Baby, slow down,” Vaggie chuckled.
“Sorry…I guess I’m just really excited. You would be our first guest, and I’ve also never seen a human other than my mom before, and even she’s a special case…” Charlie said, looking off to the side as she brushed a blonde strand of hair behind her ear.
“The only humans we technically have are the ones that die and are deemed sinners,” Vaggie explained. “But they take on a new appearance. Usually, it reflects something within their soul.”
Huh.
“That’s…interesting,” you said, eyebrows tightly furrowed together. What does being a lizard man say about that dude’s soul? And what about being green? Maybe it was his favorite color? Or maybe he was green with envy. Haha.
“So what do you say?”
You looked at Charlie to see her holding her hand out to you. If the two of you were making a deal, she wasn’t really getting anything out of it. It was pure charity work…
“Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do for you in return,” you said, taking her hand.
With that, the two young women gave you a brief tour of the hotel. It was still a work in progress, but you could see Charlie’s vision. If they just cleaned it up a bit and filled in the space, it would look livable. You would be more than happy to help with that if you ended up spending enough time there, though you hoped it wouldn’t take that long.
If you weren’t back soon, your place would start getting cobwebs. You also couldn’t miss too many days of work…PTO wasn’t infinite, and you had bills to pay. Your coworkers would also have it out for you if you left them short-staffed.
What if they started putting up missing flyers? Hopefully, they wouldn’t blame the coworker you convinced to go home early. She was the last person you were spotted with in public, after all. No one knew you were going to Devon’s, so it was unlikely they’d take the blame.
Maybe the guy you had been in a situationship with for the last several months would be their suspect. Most of your friends knew all about him (primarily because you’d bitch and whine so much), and it’s not uncommon for people to point fingers at the ‘partner.’
He raised a few red flags here and there, sure, but what man hasn’t? None of them were even close to kidnap-murder level. Mostly just picking his toes in public and swearing on his life that his exes were the crazy ones, not him. Nothing necessarily surprising.
You needed to stop worrying and start embodying Charlie’s confidence in the situation. You would find a way to get back. You would not be stuck in Hell long enough to raise alarm. You just had to manifest it!
Eventually, your hosts showed you to the room you could stay in. It was one of the few furnished ones besides their room at the moment. They also gave you a change of clothes after realizing just how dirty (and smelly) yours were after waking up in a trash heap. Plus, you had two socks again!
You met back up with them in the foyer when you were finished. They wanted to discuss possible ways you could get out of Hell, which you had absolutely no problem with. The two of them brainstormed for a bit while you just sat back and listened in. Vaggie brought up that some upper-class ‘hellborns’ had ways in and out of Hell, but she didn’t have any specifics.
You felt bad not contributing, but what did you know about traveling between the living world and Hell? Jack, that’s what. 
“Do you think your dad would know? He’s probably had to get to Earth for some reason or another, yeah?” Vaggie asked, but she was met with a grumble of a response.
“I don’t know…” Charlie said with a frown, all her hopeful energy zapped away in an instant. “He’s never been super helpful with stuff like this.”
“Come on, babe. If anybody would know, it would be him,” Vaggie pressed. “He’s gotta have something we could use.”
Charlie simply groaned as she threw her upper body over the arm of the sofa and sat like that for a minute or two. It was possible that she wasn’t on very good terms with her father. Or he was just exasperating to deal with.
You sent a worried look at Vaggie, because what were you supposed to do in this situation?
“Okay, yeah. We can swing by my old house tomorrow and poke around,” Charlie said as she stood up.
“Great, but you,” Vaggie jabbed her finger in your direction. “Get ready to wake up bright and early. We’ll have to make you presentable first.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Next Chapter
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nouearth · 4 months
Note
Imagine getting used as a walking fleshlight by Bruce (Bale) and Clark (Corenswet) at the same time. Both high five'ing each other with dark lust filled eyes while Eiffel tower'ing you. Bruce's cock fulls your mouth so well, he then rubs his cock all over your face. Clark's thrusts are the strongest you've ever experienced, his balls slap against you as if they were a force of nature; you're holding onto ass and pulling him deeper inside you while Bruce rams into your throat like it's a fleshlight.
💌 : ugh, anon. my main men! (although i love pattinson just as much, bale just screams... daddy for me.) also, i—for some reason—love it when guys are showcasing douchey behavior when they're fucking, urgh.
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for bruce, his cock had never felt so full and warm down your throat before. you could barely take him, but he was constantly peppering you in toe-curling praises so you tried your best to sheathe more of him inside of your mouth because you didn't want to disappoint him, or even clark for that matter.
the thick of his cock pushed all the saliva out of your mouth, drool dripping from either corners of your stretched lips, and as much as bruce loved seeing how much of a mess you'd become, reducing your identity to merely a flesh-light, he would pull his cock out and slide it over your lips to feed the saliva you'd dribbled back into your cock-addicted mouth.
you'd lap him up like you were a fiend for his cock, and bruce recognized that, exploiting your addiction when he'd pull himself out at times to hear you whine—to see your eyes widen with a plea that would drive him mad because they became so glossy. your brows etched with worry and agony as it seemed like he was stripping you away from a necessity to living.
the simple thought that you lived and breathed for his cock turned him on, fed his ego, and then fed yours because only you could make him feel so good like this. he would rub his cock all over your face, slap it across your cheek and nose occasionally, before jerking himself off to the scene of clark fucking you, his balls heavily rolling over your pretty features in midst. he'd then hold your cheeks, rough hands at the underside of your jaw, before he began fucking gloriously into your mouth because he was close. so fucking close.
for clark, the sounds of your gagging and gargling was enough to send him over the edge. with his heightened senses, he could hear every intricate noise that you'd deliciously graced him with; the small gasps you would inhale to recover your breath, only for you to gag and cough on them when bruce shoved his cock back inside of your mouth; the sloppy and wet squelches from the lube dripping from your hole as clark fucked his large cock madly into you; the nasal pitch of the bed creaking, a noisy proof of the men's absolute destruction on your body as they intend to break you.
sex with you was an exception to clark's habitual gentlemanly spirit as you drove him mad, teased him for being a goody two-shoes, for being too vanilla for your liking, and he wanted to prove you wrong. he wanted to prove to you that he could be both sides of the same coin, and if he went far enough, you'd beg for him to be easier on you next time.
he would pull your arms back and hold your two wrists together in one strong grip, allowing the position to contort your body in a way that emphasized the shape of your body. you felt your muscles flex, throb apprehensively because they've never been stretched like this before—stretched past their limits. and clark would maintain this position because he was addicted to seeing how the sweat collected at the dips of your back muscles, then rolled off the hill of your ass when your body struggled uncomfortably to meet his cock.
he was too big for you, much bigger than you'd taken before, and clark would make you remember that. he would instill a sense of fear within you—that you might completely break if he were to completely shove his large cock inside of you if he wasn't kind enough to control himself—restrain himself from filling you to the brim.
and he would also instill a craving within you—one that you'd find yourself thinking about his cock for hours, days, months—because you'll never find someone with a cock, a fuck like him. ramming into you hard yet steady, powerfully yet pacing, large and uncomfortable yet deliciously enthralling as clark would make every stretch soar to your senses, soar to make your throat hollow and dry—at least for the moment before bruce was shoving himself back inside of you. they'd chuckle, sometimes laugh not because you were embarrassing, but because you were so impressive to them that they didn't know how else to react other than with affection and laughter. they'd coo at you, pet at your head, tell you what a good boy you were, and fist bump whenever you deep-throated bruce and/or pushed yourself back into clark until he was balls-deep, until he pressed into a golden spot.
and they'd continue with you for hours, fucking you repeatedly, taking their turns with your mouth and ass, sometimes two cocks in one, and you'd never felt happier than being fucked in this moment. elated when bruce filled your mouth with his own cum; warm and creamy as it sat and spread thick on your tongue—your throat as you swallowed like the good boy you were. then full, when clark came into your ass. he held you close, pressing close to you until you were practically glued to him, and his balls jolted, twitched, and throbbed as he dumped his load in you. you can feel clark's cum seeping deeper into when he doesn't stop fucking into your hole, churning his cum into you until you memorized the shape of his cock, the way his cum spread thick inside of you. then finally leaking when he pulled out to see you push out his thick cum loads on instinct.
hehe, thank you for the imagine, anon! 💗 and now, i'm gonna pretend as if i didn't write all of that and create the illusion that i, in fact, am an innocent man.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months
Note
toxic rafe who makes reader cry
𝒩ℴ𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾 𝓂ℯ𝒶𝓃𝓉
awww ): I obviously do not condone any of this irl, this is purely fiction!!
Warnings- toxic!rafe, name calling (slut), drugs, rafe is on drugs (so shocked aren’t we), mention of blood, overall, I am not responsible for whatever you read, Read at your own risk ⚠️
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When Rafe was on a high- he wasn’t himself. He was usually more angry, doing and saying stupid shit without thinking. Usually, he wasn’t this rude to you.
You were at a party with him, you were just talking with your friends friend. Of course, Rafe had just taken a line of cocaine and stumbled upon you. Your friend was in the bathroom so you were left alone with the guy. Rafe stared from afar.
It was awkward until he made a joke about someone, making you crack a smile and laugh. You were feeling a little tipsy, having trouble balancing. He extended a hand out, asking if you’re okay and helping you balance again by grabbing onto your arm.
Rafes jaw tightened, grinding his teeth together slightly, biting his nails as he watched.
“I’m fine, thank you.” You gave him another smile, Rafe got closer to hear the conversation.
The man gave you a smile and nodded, taking his hand off you gently. You both made friendly conversation, asking him where in the area did he live and stuff like that.
But Rafe saw it as more. The music giving him a pounding headache, he mumbled something to himself and walked over to you.
Without looking at you or addressing you, his fist collided with the man’s face.
“Rafe! What the fuck?!”
Onlookers had watched you desperately attempt to pull him off the man as the two fought, Rafe was winning- his knuckles and face bloodied from the man.
Topper and Barry looked at each other, looking at Rafe and grabbing him by his arms and throwing him outside while you followed.
“Dude, the fuck was that?” Topper asked him, voice raised. He looked into his red, squinted eyes.
“I thought you were getting clean.” You mumbled as you stepped outside, heart shattering for him at hearing it.
“Well, I’m fucking not, okay? You’re not my fucking mom, let go.” He said, pulling his arm away from Toppers grip and walking away.
You followed after him, trying to talk him out of driving, knowing how he drove when he was high, you were likely to get into a crash or something.
“Let me drive,” you tried to say, attempting to grab the keys, your attempts in vain.
“No.” Was all he said, you looked back at Topper and Barry who tried to keep up, but Rafe was walking fast, a little fast for you.
They ran after him when he grabbed your arm roughly, practically dragging you into the car as you protested.
They peeled him off you, there could be sirens heard from afar. He tried to fight off the two holding him, shouting and yelling for them to let him go.
“Rafe. You’re going to make shit worse if you run away.” You told him in a quiet voice, gently grabbing his face and looking into his eyes.
“Shut the fuck up, slut.” He spat out, looking into yours.
Those words hurt, a pang in your chest as you furrowed your eyebrows. Topper and Barry held him back as he talked.
“Don’t look at me confused. You’re fuckin’ parading yourself out for every guy to see, you’re no better than a fuckin’ prostitute. Why do you think I was gonna kill that guy?” He spoke, voice laced with venom.
“What?” Tears began to well in your eyes. You let go of his face.
“You’re. A. No. good. slut.” He said, almost in a teasing tone. “And i want you to fuckin’ go home, pack up all your shit.”
Your lip quivered as you looked at him. You both stood in silence for a little before you slapped him.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
It was then that he felt himself become more normal, as he realized he’d done something wrong. All the adrenaline and the drugs had made him blind.
“Wait, baby, I didn’t mean what I said-“ he quickly spoke as you walked away. Barry and Topper held him until you drove away, he saw you wiping your tears before you left.
He choked out a sob, Barry and Topper letting him go. He fell to his knees on the floor, feeling so vulnerable, he didn’t care that everyone else saw him. He just wanted you.
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kasagia · 11 months
Text
Bruises and scars
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem! tidemaker! reader Summary: Kaz Brekker believed he was too broken and bruised to ever count on you reciprocating his childish crush. You were a powerful Grisha, someone who wouldn't be content to be in a relationship with the human shell that he was. That's why he gives you the cold shoulder, that's why he avoids you like the water you wield so well, that's why he tried to drive you away after the day you confessed your feelings to him. Kaz Brekker couldn't love anyone. It would not be beneficial to either side. But Kaz Rietveld rises from the dead, reminding him of what it's like to feel unconditional, blind love. And he won't give up. Not until he gets his girl back... isn't it too late for that, though? Warning(s): Kaz and his trauma; violence; he's afraid of his feelings but loves the reader; generally Kazzle misses the reader; angst with fluff; I'm a sucker for happy endings, but the boy suffered WITHOUT HIS INVESTMENT; mentions of de@th and bl00d Word count: 7,4k
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Counting days, counting days since my love up and got lost on me
"You're sending Jesper to do your dirty work for you? I didn't know you were afraid to talk to one of your own crows." you stormed into his office without even bothering to knock. Kaz swallowed. He really should have been better prepared for this conversation. After all, he knew you wouldn't give up so easily. "What is this?" you asked, slamming the wad of paper onto his desk.
"I thought you could read. This is your next job." he replied calmly, not looking up from the papers in his hand.
"In some snobbish fucking king's palace? Are you kidding me?"
"Nikolai isn't that bad. You'll see when you get there."
"And what makes you think that I will voluntarily leave Ketterdam, the club, my friends, and the Crows for two bloody years, Kaz?" for the first time since you walked into his office, he looked up from his papers, fixing you with a cool, impassive gaze.
"That I'm your boss, and you have to obey me. You needed a reminder, judging by the tone of voice you use when you speak to me."
"Was it because of what I said to you when I almost..."
"No!" he growled at you, stopping you from finishing your sentence. That day had already joined his nightmares anyway. He didn't have to constantly recall your almost-death. "It has nothing to do with it." he said, hoping that would put an end to your conversation and went back to writing down the numbers.
"Do not lie to me. I know when you do it, Kaz. You got scared because I said I love…"
"You can go and get ready, Y/N." he said without looking up from the paper he was holding. He had never felt her gaze so hot and intense on him before. They always glanced furtively at each other, discreetly indulging in the silly fantasy of loving each other.
Like they could ever afford to live a normal life. As if he could ever love you properly—the way you deserved.
You stared at him intently, trying to find any trace of emotion in him, any evidence that he didn't really want to send you away from Ketterdam, that he was only doing it because Dirtyhands was afraid of the growing feeling between you two.
"I can hold on like this, Kaz." your soft whisper cut through him, making him shiver. He could bear your screams, your anger, your madness, but the tenderness, the vulnerability you showed only around him… was much more dangerous to the cold Barrel Bastard. "I can go and return to you like nothing happened. I can stay near you and pretend I don't feel anything towards you. I can stop myself from wishing for your slightest touch. I can hide my true emotions around you and other people, just like I have done before… but please just prove to me that it's all worth it. That you can slowly take off pieces of your armour and let me see and be with the real you. Not the Brekker's mask you wore every time we were on Ketterdam's street. Not the Dirtyhands' cruel version of yourself that you created to survive in this town. Not the Bastard from the Barrel, who has so much power in his hands to take down his every enemy. Just the real you, Kaz. The genius-mind boss who cares about his people, not only the kruge. The man who loves his friends more than anything on this earth. The man who risked his own life and saved me from death's arms more times than I could count. Please… just give me this little piece of hope." he tried hard not to raise his gaze to meet your captivating, imploring irises that could touch Brekker's heart.
He knew that the moment he looked at your face, he would doom you both by giving in to this burning desire to be with you.
But he couldn't.
He had to keep you away from him.
"You must be foolish or delusional to think like that. I'm the Bastard from the Barrel. And I care about my crows, because they are good investments. Nothing more and nothing less, Y/L/N."
"Is this everything that we are? What am I to you? An investment?"
Kaz's mouth went dry as he felt the waters rising around him, when a familiar feeling of panic began to seep through his practised mask. He looked away, not wanting you to read his true emotions. Not wanting you to see how much he wanted to confess his true feelings to you.
No. You're my moon, my sun that illuminates me in my darkness. The reason why I'm even bothering to learn how to touch people without going under the water again. You give me hope and peace every time you're close to me. You're my greatest power and weakness. The only one in this bloody world who can change my plans. The only one I care about in the mornings, afternoons, nights, and midnights. I can't drink, eat, think, sleep, or work without thinking about you. You have the power over me. And that's terrified me.
He desperately wanted to give in to his desire.
But he couldn't.
He was too bruised and broken for you.
"Then I have my answer, Mr. Brekker." you broke the long, tense silence between you two. Kaz was too terrified to shift his gaze from the papers on his desk to the only woman who could easily crack the wall around his cold, almost dead heart with one of your smiles towards him. Too afraid to watch the tender expression on your face turn into a cold detachment, just like your tone of voice. "Sorry for taking up your precious time, boss. But I would rather be the foolish girl who falls in love too easily for her own good than a powerful man who doesn't want to feel anything. Nobody will sit around the table and tell a story about a man who loves only his kruge. No matter how great he was." your disappointed whisper lingered in his office long after you left.
He sat dazed in his chair until the candle stub burned out completely, leaving him alone in the darkness of his office. He stood up, lit a new candle, and watched the flame. He couldn't focus on anything other than replaying your conversation.
Rietveld's voice echoed in Brekker's head, somehow getting through his wall, mocking powerful Dirtyhands.
Coward.
And every breath that I’ve been taking since you left feels like a waste on me
"No way!" Jesper's loudspeaker scream snapped Kaz out of his thoughts. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand, and got up from the desk.
He has done nothing since that fateful conversation. Absolutely nothing. He limited himself to staring blankly at the wall as his thoughts of Y/N effectively took complete control of him. He needed a distraction. Jesper's screams outside his office were perfect.
Without his cane, he walked to the door, eavesdropping on what was going on outside his office.
"Find another idiot to tell him. Or better yet, grab some suicide guy from the roof. If he wants to die anyway, he might as well act as a messenger for their one last time before Kaz rips their head off. SHIT!" the sharpshooter screamed in panic, nearly losing his balance as the door he was partially leaning against was opened by his rather worried boss. "Kaz, the fuck, since when are you sneaking around like that?!"
"Why exactly would I want to have ripped someone's heads off, Jesper?" he ignored his comment, eager to find out what they were hiding from him as soon as possible.
Maybe that would effectively occupy his head, so he could stop thinking about the tidemaker for a while. Unfortunately, neither of the two were in a hurry to answer his question.
"You know, there's always an occasion. Theft, insult, threat, frown, bad day, wedding, christening…" Jesper shut up, seeing that his attempts at a joke only infuriated an already irritated Kaz.
"Y/N is gone." Kaz unconsciously held his breath, feeling the whole world freeze around him for a moment, until anger and panic took hold of him.
"What? Did someone kidnap her? How did you look after her?!" he growled furiously, walking back to the office and limping towards his cane. His crows followed hesitantly, watching him struggle as he tried to put on his cloak in his haste.
"She runaway. I lost track of her around the harbour." a new revelation made Kaz freeze again. He stared blankly into the space between Jesper and Inej, turning his cane's crow head in his hand.
He should have anticipated that too. Had a backup plan. But he didn't. He's been acting strangely lately. He didn't recognize himself. But after all, that was what he had wanted all along - to stay away from Y/N. So why had her disappearance made him feel so much worse?
"Kaz? Should we send some people to…"
"No need, Inej. Go back to work. You too, Jesper." the gambler looked like he wanted to argue with him, but the Wraith, seeing their friend's strange behavior, grabbed his hand, and they obediently walked away from their boss.
Kaz leaned against the desk, dullly staring at the closed door.
It was supposed to be better that way. Neither you nor he will ever meet again. You won't exchange those longing glances again. You won't act like a couple of teenagers in love, and no one will ever attack or harm you to get to him again or to threaten him. Nobody was going to get hurt.
So why did he feel like he was going back under the water?
I’ve been holding on to hope That you’ll come back when you can find some peace Cause every word that I’ve heard spoken since you left feels like an hollow street
One week, two days, 10 hours, 34 minutes and 29 seconds. That's how long it's been since he last saw your face.
He was secretly hoping you'd come back to him and the crows. Fuck the crows, he just wanted you to walk through that damned door again and start arguing with him, shouting at him, cursing his name at all the saints you knew, so he could hear your voice again.
He missed you. More than he thought he would.
Irritatingly, everything around him reminded him of you.
Especially your empty seat during Crow's meetings. No one dared to occupy it, as if every one of the gathered was waiting for you to come through that door (or window) again with a malicious, characteristic smirk on your face, mumbling some insincere apology for being late.
It never happened. Though Inej prayed to her saints every day for your return. Just like the others. Although each of them experienced your departure differently. Jes stared often at the places you once occupied, imagining you were still there. Nina found herself often making too many waffles (of course, accidentally making exactly the few you were used to eating). Wylan often creates his bombs and other things in your favourite colours.
But Kaz probably took your absence the worst of them all.
If he had slept little before, fearing that nightmares about Jordie would haunt him, now he hardly slept at all. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He heard your laugh. He smelled your perfume. He felt cursed. Cursed by you the moment your eyes looked at him full of sadness, anger, and disappointment... full of pain.
He thought that if you disappeared from his sight, he would forget about you and go back to normal. But your leaving only made him think of you more often and longer. He sat behind his desk for hours, staring blankly at the papers in front of him. Spread out plans, bills, and maps; it all stopped making sense to him. It stopped coming together, creating a perfect plan in his head.
All he could think about was you.
And Rietveld's voice, instead of being silenced and buried alive in his cold heart with your disappearance, only broke through his hard surface more and more often with the passing days without you by his side. And he wasn't holding back from taunting Dirtyhands at all.
The great Kaz Brekker fell victim to one of his own plans.
There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under
Even Ketterdam has felt your absence.
This time of year, it usually warms up enough for people to shed their heavy winter coats. However, it was the middle of spring, and a cool, icy wind still blew through the streets, bringing occasional, small snowfalls that melted on the street, creating mud.
Kaz had never despised the city he lived in more. Even it laughed in his face at his stupidity, reminding him that it was his fault that the only spark of joy and bewitchingness in this damned city had gone.
He shuddered as a child shoved past him, running happily to the ship that had come into harbour and thrown itself into its father's waiting arms. Brekker began to take rapid, panicked breaths. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall of one of the buildings, trying to imagine something other than Jordie.
His haphephobia got worse.
Earlier, he could bear the fleeting touch of strangers, such as being brushed up against him in a crowd. It was no problem for him to touch his crows for a few minutes (especially you and your comfortable hugs, holding your hand, or just feeling your warm skin under his bare fingertips).
But now even the slightest contact with a stranger brought him immediately under the water. And the tiny touch from his crows raised the waves he had to calm in the privacy of his office.
He was rolling down. He knew it well. But he saw it as his personal punishment for hurting your feelings in a brutal way instead of gently cutting you off. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt so much.
Kaz knew he was fooling himself. He would suffer anyway. He let you go too deep under his skin, penetrate his essence, and know his soul too well to just give up on you, and forget about you.
And what terrified him most was that, given the choice, he would let you in again. Even knowing he would be devastated after letting you go.
But it was better for you. You deserved something better than this life you would live with him.
And that one thought kept him sane. That he did it for your own good, that wherever you are now, he's sure you're better off than you were in Ketterdam.
Which didn't stop him from checking every ship that came into port in the sick hope of seeing your angelic face.
He just had to get over his grief. He did the same with Jordie.
The only difference was that he didn't dream of holding his brother back in his arms like he dreamed of you.
Maybe I, maybe I’m just being blinded By the brighter side Of what we had because it’s over Well there must be something in the tide
Kaz was on your bed, reading one of your books you accidentally left behind. It was all he could do lately. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd left that room for anything other than food and a change of clothes. He missed you. And he had no idea what he should do.
He inhaled your faint scent on the pillows.
In some strange way (probably because of your ability to control the water), you always smelled of the sea, even when you weren't near the harbour. Kaz hated water and hated the salty sea smell that hit him whenever he passed near the harbour. It reminded him of Jordie. But inexplicably, the smell of the sea on you brought him comfort, safety... peace.
Now it was a reminder of something else—how he let you slip through his fingers. In fact, he pushed you away from himself.
He shook his head, trying not to think about you. However, the world was always against him and never made things easy for him. The fact that the dried flower had fallen out of the book onto his chest was proof of that.
With trembling hands, he set the book aside and reached for the flower, afraid he would ruin it. However, the need to see if his eyes were deceiving him was greater than the fear of spoiling such a precious thing.
He remembered that flower. He put it in your hair himself.
"Just the two of us in a field of flowers? If I didn't know you better, I'd think it was a date, boss." he rolled his eyes as you giggled at his reaction.
"Stop it. Or they'll notice us." he muttered, trying to ignore the cool wind that somehow made its way through the high grass. He wrapped his cloak around him, enviously noting that the girl next to him didn't seem to feel that cold. He internally slapped himself for wanting to share his cloak with her.
"I highly doubt they'd want to look for us in that thicket of grass. Besides, usually when a woman is giggling at a place and situation like this, stealing some noblewoman's jewels is the last thing on her mind, Kaz. The same applies to her potential partner."
"As if I heard Jesper." he sighed, focusing on the nobles in front of them. The plan was for Jesper to distract them while he and Y/N collected what they had come for. Simple and fast, if his childish desire to be paired with Y/N did not overwhelm his senses. She distracted him more than he could afford.
"You and Jes also had a secret meeting among the wildflowers? Now, I'm jealous."
"Jes?" he asked, turning his surprised gaze on her.
"Yes, do you mind?"
"You've known him for a week." he remarked dryly.
"Yes, and what?"
"It took you two months to start calling me by my first name, let alone a nickname."
"Just because you preferred to call me tidemaker instead of using my name."
"To be honest, it might have slipped my mind then." he muttered under his breath, not realising she heard him.
"You forgot my fucking name?! Kaz Brekker you are the most ignorant person I've ever seen." Kaz knew from the anger in her eyes that only his haphephobia kept him from getting his ass kicked by Y/N.
"Well, now I remember." he tried to defend himself.
"I don't care, Brekker. Now you can even call me the fucking Easter Bunny and I won't answer you anyway."
"Don't be a child, Y/N. Y/N?" Kaz sighed in frustration when he got no response from you.
He had to come up with something; he knew this name thing wouldn't be resolved until he appeased you properly. And he didn't have time to indulge in your sulks. You had to rob these people. (It's not like his heart ached when you were mad at him.)
Fortunately, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that might help him. Your favourite flower, growing at his fingertips. He plucked a plant and put it behind your ear without thinking. You flinched at the sudden touch, staring at him in shock as the material of his gloves brushed your cheek as he pulled his hand away.
"Maybe I forgot your name then, but now I remember and know a lot more about you than just a stupid name."
"But how… how do you know I like y/f/f?" you asked in shock, never in your wildest dreams imagining that Kaz Brekker would bother with something like your favorite flower.
"You are my tidemaker. My most important investment. It's logical that I'll know you inside out."
"Should I be afraid or appreciate this unsettling but sweet effort?"
"You should know by now that nothing I do is sweet."
"Of course, big, terrible, Dirtyhands." you replied with a small smirk, similar to the one that kept Kaz from your sight.
To her, he could be more than Kaz Brekker. He could be Kaz Rietveld. And it terrified him more than the urge to reach out his hand again and fix her windblown hair.
The mastermind has been deceived by his own heart.
I’ve been told, I’ve been told to get you off my mind But I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind Oh my Lord, oh my Lord, I need you by my side
"Zenik. Follow me." he muttered as he finally found the woman at the bar. He headed for his office without looking back, knowing full well that she would do as she was told this time.
"Yes, Kaz?"
"You are contacting Y/N." it wasn't a question. He knew it the moment Nina sent you her first letter a month ago.
He himself tried to send you his letter a week ago. It came back unopened, and the delivery man said no such person lives at this address. A lie he recognised without even knowing that Nina and you were still writing to each other.
"I am." she replied coolly. Kaz, seeing that he did not want to voluntarily cooperate, sighed and sat down in his chair. His leg was starting to hurt more and more often - another thing that went bad with you leaving.
"How is she?"
"Happy. Relatively. She is tormented by nightmares and unwanted thoughts about you." if Nina wanted to make him feel guilty, she did it brilliantly.
He already felt terrible without her judging eyes and dry answers. She must have seen the shadows under his eyes, as he did in his mirror. He had no right to pity himself. He knew it well. That's why he put up with Nina's attitude, in his stupid desire to know how you were doing.
"So… is she better off than here?"
"No. But that's not your problem anymore."
"Did she find someone?" he asked hesitantly, afraid of an affirmative answer.
"Possibly, things are evolving."
Kaz felt the world stop around him for a moment. The idea of someone else watching how you play with water and create ice sculptures, someone listening to your beautiful voice and making you laugh, someone capable of holding you and kissing you, made him sick. A sick sense of jealousy that Kaz only experienced when he saw the wealth of others.
A rash desire to come for you overtook him. He had to have you back. Before you fall in love with someone other than him.
"Do you think if we…"
"No, Kaz." Nina cut him off before he could ask a question. "You wanted to get rid of her, so hold on to your fucking decision. You hurt her, and you knew damn well you would, by ordering her to return to Ravka. Honestly, Kaz, did you think about how it would impact her? How she would feel? If you wanna break her heart again, go on. Chase her. Let's see if she forgives you also this time."
"Then what should I do?" he asked, and the desperation and hopelessness of his tone terrified both him and the woman standing in front of his desk. Nobody had ever seen him like this. Even you. And now he was ready to open up to anyone just to have you by his side again.
"Forget about her. After all, that's what you wanted, right?" he did not answer.
She was right. He wanted to get rid of you. Now he was paying the price, and he had no right to ask you to ease his pain and return to the Kettedram. Return to him. Which doesn't mean that his stupid heart will just let him forget about you. He's learned that over the months without you. And he cursed all the saints that he didn't know it until he gave you the cold shoulder.
Kaz no longer had the right to your affection. He had to accept it. He had to accept that he had given up his chance to love you. That now you had every right to go and love someone else. Even if the very idea drove him crazy and desperate.
He must have forgotten about you. For the sake of all of you.
But Nina's slamming of his office door only brought him back to his memories of you.
There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under
Kaz fell. He was in the most pathetic position.
He didn't care, though, as he sat like a fool on the shore of the same lake where he met you. At which he irreversibly gave you the remnants of his heart a few years ago, without even knowing it.
He told himself that Nina was right. Once he let you go, he had to persevere in that resolve. Ketterdam will only bring you pain... so why was it so hard for him to let go of his last ties to you?
"Why are you coming here with me?" your gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he stared spellbound at your little water show.
"Am I bothering you?" he asked, shifting in his place on the dock as he watched you float in the lake.
He wouldn't even dip his little toe in himself, but he liked to silently watch you become one with what was dear to you. And by the way, he could admire your skills and beauty as much as he wanted. He didn't have to look for any particular excuse.
"No. It's just that I've never seen you watch your other crows train."
"They're not like you." it slipped out before he could think about it. "If anyone sees you, I better get them before they announce to the world that one of the Black General's tidemakers has taken refuge with me." your smirk dropped at the mere mention of your former life. Kaz cursed in his mind. "You are also too valuable an investment. And the rest of the crows liked you. It's a big achievement. Inej doesn't let new people in so easily... me too."
"So you like me after all, boss?" you asked with that mischievous smirk on your lips that made his heart beat like crazy. Good thing water was your specialty. At least you didn't hear his heart pounding.
"You're tolerable company, and what you can do… what you can do is amazing."
"It's just little tricks." you murmured, forming different shapes out of the water. "At the king's parties, I was quite often one of the highlights." you waved your hand, freezing the water to form an ice statue. His statue. "Not every tidemaker is strong enough to freeze water." with another wave of your hand, to his silent displeasure, you melted the ice. "Not to mention turning ice into water again. Most just stop at its liquid form and don't train any more. I like to think I'm too curious to ever stop exploring my powers."
"Or stubborn." he said with a small smirk, listening to your wonderful laugh.
He must have been cursed from the start, since fate had put someone so perfect in his path... someone he could never have. But he could have been watching you. Enjoy his eyes with your beauty and his ears with the tone of your voice.
"Sometimes that's a good trait too. You taught me that yourself."
"How convenient for you to learn from me only what you want and not what you need."
"Sometimes what we want is more important than what we need and what is more rational for us."
"What for example?"
"Love." he tried to keep a poker face, but apparently his eyes betrayed more than he would have liked, as you gave him a confused, questioning look. "What? You've never been in love?"
NO. Not until he looked into your eyes and heard you laugh. Not until he got into your first argument with you and lost with a smile on his face. Not until he first saw you use your powers to outsmart the bandits who attacked you. Not until he saw how the moonlight in Ketterdam made your eyes shine even more than usual, so that you might as well have lit up all of the city with your beauty. Not until he first heard his name come out of your mouth. No, until he foolishly began to believe in Inej's saints, when he saw how tenderly and kindly you treat the orphans in the streets of Ketterdam.
"This silence means either a very powerful heartbreak, or you really only love a kruge."
"What if I really never loved anyone? What if I don't believe in love?" he whispered, looking up at you. You sneaked up to him so that you were standing in front of him. Water trickled down your hair and along your neck to the hand you held out to him. You opened your hand, handing him a small shell.
"The world is too cruel for such beliefs, Kaz. If we don't believe in love, why should we get out of bed at all? Why do we accumulate all these riches and try to survive each day?" Kaz didn't know the answer. Not one that would allow him to avoid the uncomfortable subject of his feelings for you.
He took the shell from you and, being careful not to break it, put it in his pouch. Along with the other little things you fished out of the water.
Your eyes met. You stared into the other's eyes for a moment, lost in your own dreams, which were not too different from each other... Yet neither of you had the courage to admit them out loud and risk everything you had been so carefully building between yourselves. Even if your hearts burned for more.
So he sat with you in silence, watching you play with the water and analysing what you told him. What was the reason for his existence?
Kaz from a year ago would have answered quickly and without thinking. Revenge. But now that he was looking at you, he wasn't so sure about his answer… or at least it was closer to something much different than his desire for revenge.
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh It's your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in And I'm tired of being so exhausted
He sat behind his desk, involuntarily reminiscing about the day it all began.
The day he almost lost you. The day you almost died in his arms. The day you told him something he secretly wanted to hear but wasn't prepared for. The day he will curse forever.
This was your first assignment after returning from Ravka and the whole sun summoner thing. A childish, simple burglary. Something to warm up his crows—a return to the reality of Ketterdam without queens and kings and politics.
And so it was. You filled your pockets with valuables and were about to leave when one of the guards spotted you. They were much better armed than you (it was supposed to be a simple robbery with no witnesses and no blood spilled, so you only had daggers and knives "just in case") and strangely familiar with all the secret passages in the small mansion.
Even though you found yourself in a terrible situation, you managed to leave the property. You laid out in the finish as you and Kaz ran towards the club. One of the guards shot at you and hit you. Very accurate, almost piercing your heart with a bullet.
Kaz stared dazedly as you screamed in pain as you clutched your chest and tumbled onto the muddy, cobbled road. He reacted faster than he thought, throwing the dagger at the man who shot you and killing him instantly. Inej would have praised him for such a throw.
But that effective kill didn't matter to him now. He ran over to you in a panic and kneeled beside you, tugging at the fabric of your shirt. He hissed as he saw the blood pouring down your skin.
"Kaz..." you groaned, looking at him terrified. Kaz ripped off a piece of his shirt and wrapped it tightly around your waist, trying to stop the gushing blood. "Cold." you mumbled, shivering in his arms. Brekker didn't even notice as he placed you in his lap; he was too busy to stop the bleeding until he found bloody Zenik. Where was she when he really fucking needed her?
"Shhh…. I know. Just try to hold on a little longer, okay? Nina and Jes will be here soon." he tried to calm you down by running his hand through your sweat-soaked hair. He rocked you back and forth, not knowing who he was trying to reassure—you or himself.
"We both know they won't make it on time."
"If you're wasting your energy talking, at least say something useful instead of talking nonsense, tidemaker." he growled at you, tightening his grip on you. "You're not getting away from me that fast. I didn't invest so much in you to make you leave before…" Until I tell you how much you mean to me... "Until we fill our vault with tonnes of Kruge."
"I could have predicted that even on my deathbed you'd be talking about the fucking Kruges." you laughed, coughing up some blood, which didn't calm his already madly beating heart. Where is that damn Zenik?
"Die in my arms and I promise I'll go back to hell for you. The devil can wait for you - I signed a pact with you first." you suddenly became serious, squeezing his gloved hand tighter and staring into his eyes as if they were the only stars in your dark sky.
"Kaz… I… I have to tell you…"
"Shut up, Y/L/N. You're not dying today." he snarled a warning, squeezing you so hard that he was sure to leave bruises on your arms. Panic rose in him as he felt your body slowly go limp, your breaths becoming less and less frequent.
"Kaz… I love you." you whispered, making him freeze in a daze. You only said those words in his wildest dreams. He had secretly dreamed of it many times, but certainly not like this. Not while your soul was slowly escaping from this cruel world unworthy of you.
He doesn't remember exactly when Nina came running, or how Jesper took you out of his arms, or how he kept up with Jesper's frantic pace as he ran with you in his arms.
But he surely was shaking all the way to the Crow Club. He only breathed a few hours after Nina announced to everyone that you would live. Then he left, without even entering your room to make sure Zenik's words were true, and locked himself in his office.
Tears began to fall from his eyes as he leaned against the door.
He could have lost you. Forever. Another person close to him.
His dreams would be tormented by the sight of your bloody corpse in some dirty alley. Again, he felt like that helpless little boy who had lost his brother. He found himself with Jordie THERE again.
Kaz couldn't go through all of it again. He wouldn't get up after your death. And there was only one thing he could do...
Fuck it all.
He needed you.
He was too exhausted to pretend any longer.
He was Kaz Brekker. He didn't need a reason. But his slowly dying heart without you seemed to be enough of an excuse to see you. Even if you're going to completely break it. Even the cold Bastard from the Barrel saw it as a good deal.
"JESPER!" he shouted, jumping out of his chair with his cane in hand.
"Yes?" his friend was at his side faster than ever.
"Tell the others to pack up. We're leaving in an hour." he muttered, taking out his travel bag from the wardrobe. Even without turning around, he knew a big smile had formed on Jesper's face.
We're going to get my girl back.
"About the damn time, Kaz." he patted him on the back and ran out of his office, telling the other crows the good news.
Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Even though I'm nothing to you now Even though I'm nothing to you now
Kaz had been afraid of a few things in his life, but walking through the threshold of your new apartment seemed to be the most terrible of all his fears.
His crows obeyed him without objection for the first time in their lives and stayed at the hotel. He came here. On trembling legs and a rapidly beating heart. With his soul on his shoulder, ready to sacrifice and do anything to get you back. And if you didn't change your mind, it would be with a mind ready to carve your image into his memory so he could enjoy seeing you one last time in his miserable life.
Before he could change his mind, he knocked on the door.
He waited patiently, hearing footsteps approaching. He held his breath as the key turned in the lock.
But you weren't the one who opened the door for him.
"What?" a well-built, dark-haired man stood in the doorway.
Kaz began to compare himself to him, concluding that, when it came to appearance, he was superior to him in everything. He didn't stand a chance against someone like that for your heart. Doubts began to flood back into him. What if Nina was right?
"Are you going to stand here for half a day or..."
"Jackson!" your voice from the depths of the apartment shook Kaz. It froze him completely, irritating the man in front of him even more. "I need your help here, you big fool. What are you doing?" a moment later, you were standing in the vestibule. Your eyes met. Kaz shivered under your gaze, cursing himself for how quickly he fell under your spell as he stood there completely dazed.
"Y/N." your name came out of his mouth reverently, like a prayer, like a song long forgotten by a wanderer. You looked exactly the same as you did a few months ago. Except for the faint shadows under his eyes, which Kaz considered his greatest enemies.
"Kaz."
"Jackson. Hello there." the man waved at him, stepping between you. Jackson looked at you, worried. Kaz felt both anger welling up in him, a feeling of envy at how close you were with this strange guy, but also relief that you had someone close to take care of you. Not that you couldn't overcome the worst hell alone. He just felt relieved that you didn't have to. "Let him in, or should I kick his ass, wave?"
Wave? Did you two have nicknames for each other?
"It's all right. You can leave us." you said as you walked past him to face Kaz. The man behind you sighed, shaking his head.
"I hope you know what you're doing."
It might as well have been directed at Kaz. For the first time in his whole new Dirtyhands' life, he didn't have a plan, an emergency exit, or another backup plan. But now he was standing in front of you, staring at you helplessly as he absorbed your form. And that damn sea smell in your hair...
"Kaz."
"Y/N." he said as he came back down to earth. He took a small, calming breath. "How are you?"
"Really? Are you here just to ask how I'm doing?" she asked incredulously, folding her arms.
Kaz wrinkled his nose at your dry, angry tone. As he could see, it would be even more difficult than he thought. He stood in front of you, twirling his cane nervously in his hands.
"I'm here for a completely different reason, but I couldn't… I couldn't not come and see you." he admitted turning his gaze back to you after lowering his head in embarrassment.
"I'm alright. My brother and I are having a great time."
"Brother?" he asked. Relief and joy washed over him. Nor could he help himself to this naive hope, which began to warm his cold heart.
"Yes... Jackson. Who did you think he was?" he did not answer. You could have guessed. He knew you saw the flicker of jealousy in his eyes after that strange man called you a wave. You were his tidemaker, his wave, his sea, and all the fucking things. For a moment, he forgot that he was the one who had deprived himself of the right to claim against you. "You saw me, you asked how I was, so you can go now. Goodbye, Kaz." you were about to close the door on him, but at the last moment he put his cane between them, preventing you from doing so. You opened your door again, giving him a questioning look.
"Come back with me." he whispered, defeated. He couldn't let you go. Not again, not after there was still the slightest chance you might still want him.
"What?" you whispered softly, pretty sure you misheard him.
"There's no other reason why I'm here... I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I can't think or function like a normal person without you next to me. I'm one step away from daydreaming about you, hallucinating, and being insane that you're still by my side, so please... I'm begging you to come back to me. I know I don't deserve you and that I hurt you. You have every right to kick me out, but please, Y/N, just come home."
"What exactly am I supposed to come back to, Kaz? A cold, surly boss who is afraid of his feelings? Who doesn't hesitate to hurt me to protect his heart?"
"I'm not... I'm not good at this. Feelings. I... I don't know what it's like to love, but I know that when I'm with you... when I'm with you, nothing else matters. Not Ketterdam, not power, not Kruge, not wealth, not profit—nothing has ever been on my pedestal. Only you. Always you. And maybe I'm terrified of it, but now I know that I'd rather fight my own demons for you than let you go. I will try my best. If you still want me." he stared at you with undisguised hope in his eyes, only now realising how close he had come to you during your conversation. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek uncertainly. "I love you, Y/N... even if I'm nothing to you now." he murmured, risking everything and resting his forehead against yours with a sigh.
There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under
He inhaled your scent with his eyes closed, waiting for your move. Hope grew with him every second you continued to let him be so close to you.
"You're an idiot, Kaz Brekker." he didn't contradict or argue with you. He was a complete idiot, pushing you away and begging you to come back, all the while acting like a love-crazy fool… however, he wouldn't have it any other way if it meant you taking your place in his office again. If someday he could hold you in his arms… "You have lucky you're my idiot. With all of your bruises, scars, and everything else." you promised, hugging him tighter. You pulled away from him with serious eyes, making Kaz swallow. "But if you do that shit again, forget I'm coming back to you. Also, we need to seriously work on your communication, Brekker. Do you know how long I've had to struggle here with that other idiot who claims to be my brother?"
"I can hear all of it!" you sighed at your brother's grumbling and gave Kaz a meaningful look. Brekker smiled slightly, causing a matching goofy smirk to appear on your face.
"See? But seriously, I'm not kidding. Last chance, Kaz."
"A deal is a deal. You're never going anywhere without me again."
"A red flag!" your brother coughed from the kitchen. You rolled your eyes, grabbing the edge of Kaz's coat sleeve.
"Shut up, Jackson. I'm leaving, I'll be back in an hour! Try not to burn down the apartment, spitfire."
You didn't wait for his answer as you slammed the door behind you and stepped out with Kaz into the street. Brekker led you towards the hotel where the other crows were staying. His hand in yours, which did not escape your notice. You turned your head towards him, giving him a confused look, which made him smile slightly, shifting his gaze to the port and the sea.
At one point, he noticed that one of the waves "attacked" a trader, washing him over. He cursed so loudly that you could hear him even from this distance. Kaz shifted his gaze to you, immediately noticing the sly smirk on your face. Suddenly, the wallet fell from the sky right into your waiting hand, along with droplets of salty, cool water.
He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. A self-satisfied smirk formed on his face after seeing your blush.
One day, he will be able to touch you without his gloves. Hold in your arms without layers of clothes on. He will do it. No matter how long it takes him to get rid of the greatest demon of his past. But something told him that you'd keep his head from going under the water again. His queen of waves. His crow. His anchor. And he will make sure that he holds you in his arms forever. 
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bunnys-kisses · 10 days
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okay, okay, okay! i know we're still on the jailhouse rock au (we will come back to this), but in the process of staring at simon's tattoos i came up with another idea.
it's the classic biker au, you met him after you cursed at him for running a red light and almost running you over. while at the time time you thought nothing of it, you see his bike in the parking lot of a grocery store and reminded of what almost happened, you take your keys and key the side of his bike.
but as you were going to put you key away, you were met face to face with the six foot two behemoth that was simon riley. the lower half of his face was obscured because of a face mask, but the sternness in his eyes made cold sweat go down your back.
"whatcha doin' there, girlie?"
you frowned at him before you said, "you almost ran me over a few days ago mister motorcyclist. you should be watching where you're driving, people use the streets too." you stood up a little straighter. it wasn't your finest moment, keying a strangers car, but the fear that raced through you when he ran that red was still fresh in your mind.
"well then." he said, then looked to his bike, "i guess i should apologize." he leaned in close to your personal space and said, "i'm sorry, but you have to look both ways, little girl." then ruffled your hair.
you felt rage build up inside of you. you actually stomped on his foot to get him away from you before you walked away. you refused to be talk down to like a little girl. this wouldn't be the last you saw of simon.
a few months later, your older neighbour was moving out to live in a long term care facility after she had a pretty bad tumble. but on moving day, you weren't expecting to see heavily tattooed men with amazing body strength move boxes into the apartment. and then you saw simon again.
he recognized you and smiled under his face mask, "well. if it isn't the girl who keyed my bike."
"well, if it isn't the man who tried to kill me." you replied. you would've never guessed that you'd soon up in simon's bed with him holding your legs open as he thrusted up inside of you.
"that's a good girl, we could've done this instead of you ruinin' my bike." he purred as he gripped your thighs. the muscle under his palms riled him up.
"shut up and fuck me you idiot." you groaned as you clutched onto the pillow under your head. your heart was racing as you felt his cock deep inside of you. you wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, but you were too busy feeling his cock in your throat.
"anything for you, love. you just lie there and let me take care of everything." he chuckled lowly.
eventually you two would make amends, even become lovers. one day you'd be mrs. simon riley. but not at that moment, at that moment you wanted to make sure that he didn't feel like he won this battle. <3
thoughts? feelings? want more?
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hwashotcheeto · 3 months
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𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (1)
Best Friend's Mother Masterlist
Chapter: One
Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader
Summary: You finally meet Wooyoung's father, and he isn't who you were expecting at all.
WC: 3.3k
CW: Mostly more plot/character development, but suggestive at the end (teasing, flirting). Wooyoung is a brat (no one is surprised), Seonghwa uses pet names on the reader (darling, dear, (little) doll)
AN: Ahhh, here we go, first official chapter! There's no smut just yet BUT the next chapter will be, promise! I hope you enjoy!
Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans
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You let out a huge sigh of relief as you submitted your final assignment for the semester. You flopped back onto your bed and laughed in relief, feeling your pulsing headache beginning to ebb away. 
The last day of the semester came way faster than you were prepared for. And you weren’t nearly as stressed as your normally would’ve been. 
Maybe because tonight, you and Wooyoung were leaving to go visit his dad. 
Wooyoung told you the next day after you asked that his father responded with an “enthusiastic yes,” and couldn’t wait to meet you. The last week of the semester flew by after that, and now you were here. 
You checked your phone, and you had thirty minutes before you had to meet up with Wooyoung before you started the drive back to his dad’s house. Thankfully, you’d packed most of your things the night before, so you spent your time double and triple checking everything, and collecting everything else you might need. 
And before you knew it, Wooyoung was texting you. 
Heyyyyy
I’m parked outside your dorm, I finished early
Did that essay kill you? 
Come onnnnn, we gotta go sooooooon
You ignored his texts until you were leaving the dorm. You got outside with your bags, being met with the early Winter weather. Cold air, a little bit of snow on the ground. Par for the course for northern November weather. 
Wooyoung got out of the car and helped you with your bags. “Did you bring your whole closet?” He asked as he put them into his trunk. 
“I had to, this is all I have.” 
“Oh, right. Well, you can borrow some of mine if you run out while we’re there.” 
You were going to be with Wooyoung and his dad, and maybe other family, until classes started again in January. A whole month away really was a small vacation, and you were ecstatic to be away from this building with your best friend. 
“Thanks, Wooyoung,” you said softly, hoping you wouldn’t have to bother him with borrowing his clothes. He smiled and motioned for you two to get in the car. 
And then you were off. It wasn’t a long trip, about a forty minute drive, but it felt way shorter to you. You were both incredibly relieved to be away from school, but also incredibly excited for what this Winter Break would hold. 
Your heart was pounding as Wooyoung entered his home town. He hadn’t told you much about where he grew up or where his dad lived, so when Wooyoung drove into a rich suburban neighborhood and pulled into the driveway of an extravagant house you were floored. 
The house was a minimalist, modern aesthetic. The colors were sharp and contrasted starkly, the windows were clear and clean, there wasn’t a speck of dirt anywhere.
“You didn’t tell me your dad was loaded,” you joked as Wooyoung turned off the car. But when you looked at him, he was nervous. You couldn’t really fathom why Wooyoung was nervous to be home, unless he himself didn’t want to see his father. 
But if Wooyoung didn’t want to see him, why did he bring you along? It didn’t make sense. 
“I need to tell you something about my dad before we go inside,” he started, looking down at his hands in his lap, fidgeting with them. You couldn’t help the numerous ridiculous thoughts that filled your head, trying to predict whatever Wooyoung was about to say. 
“My dad…” He was already hesitating and trailing off. Warning bells were going off inside your head. Wooyoung thought for a long while, before you could see him mentally make the decision to just rip the bandaid off. “My dad isn’t a masculine man. He prefers to dress like a woman.” 
And you sat stunned for a few seconds as to why your best friend thought this would be an issue for you. 
“Wooyoung, I’m sorry, but do you know me?” You asked. He looked up at you, and along with nervousness, guilt started creeping into his eyes. “I don’t care how your dad wants to dress or act, as long as he’s not an asshole.” 
You saw Wooyoung’s whole body relax, melting back into the car seat. He laughed softly. “Yeah, I don’t know why I was so nervous. I just didn’t want you to be surprised when we went inside to see him.” 
You nodded, and smiled encouragingly. He smiled back, and you both went to get out of the car. 
As you two were grabbing your respective bags, Wooyoung said “ah,” remembering something. “By the way, he prefers being called ‘mom’.”
“Are you sure your dad doesn’t have something to confess?” You said, half joking. Wooyoung laughed and shook his head. 
“No, no, it’s not like that. Believe me, I asked a couple years ago. He likes being a man, he just also likes looking feminine.” 
And then the nervous excitement bubbled up inside you as you both walked up the driveway, then the sidewalk, then the stairs to the front door. You could feel the mix of emotions clawing at your body from the inside out as Wooyoung struggled to grab the correct key. 
The excitement of meeting your best friend’s dad, along with the nervousness of wanting to impress him was making your stomach churn. But not in a way where you felt sick, your body just didn’t know how to calm down from everything. 
Wooyoung finally got the key out and unlocked the door. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and run away. 
You walked inside and were greeted to the inside of the house reflecting the outside. Modern, stark, clean, but with tasteful decorations scattered throughout. Some paintings, statues, plants, decorative lights. 
But all of that was second to the gorgeous man in front of you. 
Wooyoung’s father-or, mother, as he preferred-was sitting on a large, plush couch to the left of the door, watching a movie. He looked over the couch and smiled at the two of you. You forgot to smile back, because you were staring in awe of how someone could be this beautiful. 
You didn’t hear what he was saying as he stood up to greet you two, because you got a full view of him and all the air left you. 
He was wearing a long sleeved sparkly sweater dress that stretched down to his knees, with sheer tights underneath. His black hair was fluffy and fell freely around his perfect face, reaching down to his jawline. 
Oh, his eyes and smile made your knees weak. You could feel nervous tremors run up and down your thighs. 
What might’ve surprised you the most was his hourglass figure. He had tits, hips, and a tiny waist. 
Oh, what a Winter Break this was about to be. 
“Hey!” Wooyoung called, and you suddenly remembered you weren’t in a dream. Both men were looking at you, Wooyoung slightly annoyed, and his mother amused. “Eomma, this is my friend. This is my mom, Seonghwa.” 
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Seonghwa said, holding out his hand. You took his hand and tried to give the best handshake you could. His grip was firm, but delicate. Your eyes flicked down to look at his hands, and to your surprise, even his hands were feminine. 
“Thank you, it’s good to meet you too,” you babbled out, struggling to make sure your voice didn’t waver. Seonghwa smiled warmly as he pulled back, and he turned to Wooyoung to hug him tightly. Wooyoung struggled to return the hug with his bags on his arms, but he still managed to make it work. 
“Did you go out?” Wooyoung asked Seonghwa as he pulled back, looking over his mother’s outfit. “You’re all dressed up.” 
“No, but my son and his friend visiting me is reason enough to dress up.” 
You swear you could feel your head starting to get light. Wooyoung glanced at you, then back at his mother. 
“Okay, well, I’m gonna go unpack.” Wooyoung looked at you before continuing. “There’s a guest room close to mine, I’ll show you.” You nodded, and you two started for the stairs. 
“Don’t be too long!” Seonghwa called, “Dinner will be ready soon!” 
You felt your heart stutter at the mention of a home cooked meal for the first time since you couldn’t remember when. 
Wooyoung brought you down the hallway, turned to the right, and stopped at the end. “This room on the far end is the master room. Belongs to my mom, obviously.” Wooyoung waved his arms around to express his point, then motioned to the door on the left side of the hall, the one he was in front of. “This one is the guest room, and the one on the other side by the corner is mine.” He pointed to the door all the way down the hall. 
You nodded, your eyes betraying you and drifting to Seonghwa’s bedroom door. The forbidden room, your brain was telling you. You had no reason to go in there, but the idea of going beyond it- 
“Okay, dude, I can see that you were checking out my mom, okay?” Wooyoung blurts, making you whip your head back to him. You’d hoped you didn’t look as obvious as you felt, and your worst fear came true. 
If Wooyoung saw it, so did Seonghwa, and the mortification slowly took over your body as you felt your face burn hot. 
Your first instinct was to apologize, but you stopped yourself. All possible words left you, and you just stared at Wooyoung with fear and embarrassment all over your face. Wooyoung sighed and shook his head. 
“We’ll talk about this later, go unpack your stuff. Wait until I come get you.” And with that, he walked off to his room and disappeared into it. 
You didn’t even get to appreciate the gorgeous room you got to stay in, because you were too consumed with guilt to properly look over it. It was large, lavish, and comfortable, but you felt awful as you started unpacking. 
You were drooling all over your best friend’s mom the second you walked in the door. You couldn’t help yourself from feeling awful the entire time you put your luggage away. 
You jumped a whole foot in the air when you heard a knock on the door. The door creaked open and Wooyoung peeked inside. You were just finishing up as he came into the room, and you felt simultaneous relief and dread. 
Before you could stop it, words began tumbling out of your mouth. “Look Woo, I’m sorry, I know it was insanely disrespectful of me to act that way in front of your mom, I should’ve acted better and I-” 
“Woah, slow down,” Wooyoung said, holding his hands up. You stopped and swallowed back the rest of the words you thought of saying. You realized then that Wooyoung didn’t look upset anymore. In fact, he looked resigned. “I’m not mad. I think I was just protective.” He looked away for a second before he looked back at you. “I didn’t want you to think of my mom as some kind of porn character.”
“No, never!” You immediately blurted. 
“I know you’re not like that, and I’m sorry I snapped at you.” You could see in Wooyoung’s eyes, he felt remorseful. You found it a little weird, because he was justified in being upset. “People have done it in the past, he thinks he found a partner, and it turns out they liked the idea of having him as a personal porn star object, nothing more.”
The fact that such a revelation didn’t surprise you made you doubly upset. 
“So, I guess, what I’m saying is,” he started, and then sighed again. “I mean, if you fuck, just don’t tell me about it.” 
The bluntness of his request makes you choke, and you can feel your face instantly burn hot. Wooyoung finally breaks and laughs, and his laugh makes you laugh. 
You really were lucky to have an amazing friend. Not because he just gave you permission to fuck his mom, but that you could have proper conversations about issues and settle them like the adults you were. 
Then again, you both clearly still acted like teenagers, but it was like a wise man once said: There’s a time and place for everything. 
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The three of you were sitting around the small dining table in the kitchen, enjoying the dinner Seonghwa had made for you all. Despite saying that it was a “small” table, there was still tons of space left over. You could fit much more food and people at this “small” dining table with how much space there was. 
The food was delicious. Half because Seonghwa was clearly a skilled cook, and half because you hadn’t eaten anything made with love in so long. The fact that it was made with love and care put into it made it taste stellar. 
“So,” Seonghwa started, looking over at you. “Why are you spending your break with us?” 
You expected this question. You’d rehearsed it a million times over. 
“I don’t talk to my parents, and the rest of my family already has plans this year.” It was the truth, but it didn’t give away too much information. Seonghwa gave you a sympathetic look with a slight pout. He must’ve realized you didn’t wanna talk about it more than that, because he didn’t push for you to explain more. 
“Well, I’m happy to have you.” You smiled and said a soft “thank you” before taking another bite of food. “You’re welcome.” 
You expected Wooyoung to be rolling his eyes with every look you gave Seonghwa, and to be annoyed with how permanently flushed your cheeks were. But to your surprise, he was giving you little smirks the entire meal, and giggling silently when your voice wavered as you spoke to Seonghwa. 
It’s like you two never really grew up. Two little kids giggling at each other from across the table, almost reminiscent of teasing your friends about their crush at lunch time. 
The big difference here is that your fucking crush is your best friend’s mom. 
And yet despite how obvious you two must’ve been, Seonghwa never commented on anything you two did. It was as if he hadn’t noticed a thing. 
You survived the rest of dinner, with light talk about how you and Wooyoung met, how school was going, your major, and more about you as a person. 
Seonghwa began to clean up when you all were done eating, but you grabbed your dishes and brought them to the sink. 
“What are you doing?” Seonghwa asked as you began to rinse off your utensils. He looked genuinely stunned, and you couldn’t understand why. 
“Cleaning?” 
“You don’t have to do that.” Seonghwa took the dishes from you. Not forcefully, but gently removing them from your hands. “I know, it’s polite to help, but I don’t mind cleaning. I actually like it.” 
“But you cooked. It’s the least I can do,” you argued. Seonghwa looked at you for a moment, then smiled. You felt your stomach flip over, and smiled back to cover it up. 
“Thank you, dear. That’s sweet of you.” 
The name shouldn’t have made you as flustered as it did. 
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You spent the next few hours with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, continuing to talk, having some movies as background noise. As you sat with them, you observed their dynamic, and learned more about both of them in the process. 
Your irrational theories about Wooyoung being averse to Seonghwa couldn’t be more wrong. He was relaxed, comfortable, and he clearly loved his mom. Wooyoung was cuddled up to Seonghwa towards the end of your conversation, his head basically on Seonghwa’s chest and his arms around him. 
After the final movie, all three of you decided it was time to head to sleep. You said your good nights and went to your separate rooms. 
But despite the comfortable bed, the wonderful room, and the hospitality of Seonghwa, you couldn’t sleep. 
You looked at your phone, you shifted around, you tried walking around, but you didn’t feel tired. You were getting frustrated after a couple hours. 
You decided to go get a drink of water. Maybe it would calm you, or walking around would take your mind off trying to sleep. 
You quietly made your way out of your room and down the hallway, using the light from your phone to guide you. As you passed Wooyoung’s room, you heard him softly snoring. 
You got into the kitchen and carefully navigated to the cabinets. Seonghwa and Wooyoung both had shown you where to find cups in case a need like this arose during your visit. You didn’t expect to need it the night of, but here you were. 
You found a glass and got your water. It didn’t make you feel any better, but it did feel nice. 
“Can’t sleep, darling?” 
Your whole body jumped as you whirled around to look for the owner of the sound. You knew it was Seonghwa before you saw him, but you still weren’t prepared to see him in the archway, leaning against the wall, in a long black silk robe with flowers all over it. 
You shouldn’t have been fixated on the fact that his robe was open enough for you to see the line that ran down his chest, and the slight ridge of each side. 
He laughed softly before he spoke. “I’m sorry for startling you.” 
His voice was deeper than it was before. Smoother, almost. Like chocolate sauce. 
“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it,” you mumbled, trying to keep your eyes on his face. That ended up not working out as his eyes made you feel small, and you looked to focus on your glass instead of him. 
But what you didn’t know yet was that Seonghwa didn’t like to be ignored. You looked at him when he spoke to you. It was a rule like any other. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and you listen to Seonghwa. 
He walked over to you and grabbed your chin, turning your head to look up at him. Your mind went blank and your stomach churned inside you like a washing machine. A smirk pulled the corners of his mouth up as your cheeks turned red yet again. 
“There we are,” he cooed softly, his voice hardly more than a rumble in his throat. 
“Seonghwa, what are you doing?” You said, your voice wavering on every word. Amusement sparkled in his eyes as he moved even closer, his hand moving to the back of your neck. 
“Don’t tell me I was hallucinating the looks you gave me since you showed up. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you checking me out the entire time?” 
Of course not, you knew there was a strong possibility he knew everything. He was at least over double your age, he was no stranger to all of this. 
“I just didn’t think you’d do anything.” You began to stutter more as you struggled to pick the right words. You could see it clearly, in his big dark eyes, that he was enjoying watching you fight to stay composed. 
“And why wouldn’t I? You’re a cute little doll, how could I resist?” 
Your heart gave one massive beat you could feel throughout your whole body. The air in your lungs was sucked out. Your head felt light. You didn’t feel like you remembered how to stand. 
Seonghwa laughed again, and his eyes shifted to something more hungry. More primal. “Come, little doll,” he said, pulling you even closer until you were pressed up against his chest. “Won’t you stay with me for the night?” 
How could you answer with anything besides “yes”?
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Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜
This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.
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probably-writing-x · 8 months
Text
Fault (Chapter Two)
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“I don’t want to go back,” You whisper, your hand swirling patterns across Conrad’s chest.
He hums, his fingers trailing gently up and down your arm, “Maybe we just never go back again.”
You giggle, “Yeah we could live out of your truck, go town to town.”
“Travel the coast, then do all the states, settle down on a ranch somewhere,” Conrad continues, “They’d never find us.”
“I think that’s the only way we’re getting out of this,” You take a deep breath, “They hate us.”
“They don’t hate us,” Conrad returns, “They’re just angry.”
You lean up onto your elbows and turn your gaze to him, “Did you hear them Con? Because it sounded pretty close to hate.”
He chuckles, “How could anyone hate you?”
You narrow your eyes, “Don’t try to be cute, this is a problem Conrad.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, “We’ll deal with it, okay? We’ll figure it out.”
The two of you had left the house not long after you’d argued with Belly. He’d told you that it wasn’t good for you to stay there when you were upset and you’d agreed. The pair of you had left and got into his car, drove your way around Cousins until you returned back to the beach, wrapped in each others arms on the sand.
“I never wanted it to happen like this,” You say to Conrad, eyes flicking between each of his.
He shakes his head, fingers moving up to brush your hair away from your face, “I don’t think they’d have been happy however it happened.”
You let out a deep breath and nod, “Okay, there’s only so long we can stay on the beach.”
Conrad hums, tightening his grip around you so that you fall onto his chest, “Five more minutes.”
———
The drive back is silent, both of you anticipating the worst. You both walk into the house quietly and, by now, it’s dark like everyone is asleep. You swallow the lump in your throat.
Conrad walks a step beside you, his hand on the small of your back as if it was the slightest comfort that he could offer. You both trail upstairs and you pause as soon as you’re there.
“I can’t-“ You stop yourself, “Belly won’t want me in her room.”
Conrad nods, “I know, come on.”
The two of you walk down towards his room instead, and he closes the door behind you. His room always seems colder than the rest of the house - he hated when it got too hot. His bed is made, but there’s always creases in the comforter where he doesn’t pull it tight to the corners. There’s a photoframe on his bedside table with a picture of all of you from last summer - you’d never noticed it before but he’d never been looking at the camera, his eyes had been on you.
“Here, you can take a top,” Conrad offers, “And I can turn the heat on if you think it’s too cold, and there’s probably a-“
“Con,” You say softly, “It’s fine.”
He turns to you and scratches a hand at the back of his neck, “I’ve… I’ve just never done this before.”
You narrow your eyes, “Never done what?”
“Well, like,” He gestures at you, “Had a girl stay over.”
You let out a laugh, “Conrad Beck Fisher you can’t be serious.”
He rolls his eyes at you, “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”
“I don’t know, I just thought you would’ve had an ex girlfriend or something stay here, or like Nicole when you guys had that thing going on?”
He shakes his head, “Nope, you’re the first.”
“Well, I’m honoured,” You smile, taking the t-shirt from his hands.
You turn around and face the other side of his room as you get changed, a misplaced gesture all things considered between you and Conrad. But, you only realise once you turn back around, that he’d turned away too - that shy side still inside of him even with you. You both climb into the bed and he instantly stretches out an arm to let you rest on his chest, his fingers trailing up and down your arm.
“I-“ You croak into a whisper, “I’m scared we’re going to lose them Con.”
He holds you a little tighter, “I’m not going to let that happen.”
And, in that moment, you believe him.
———
It’s barely even morning when you wake up, darkness only just dissipating outside, still no signs of sun. Conrad is fast asleep beside you, his arms around your waist, his chest pressed against your back. You shift from under his arm and sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand through your hair. Your chest felt tight and it had felt ever since yesterday like you were constantly on the verge of tears. You didn’t know where to even begin. In one day it felt like everything had been flipped on it’s head- over carelessness? blind emotion? or simply just love?
You step out of Conrad’s room and turn down the corridor towards the bathroom, stopping in your tracks almost instantly as you close the bedroom door behind you.
Belly’s door opens at the exact same time, her frozen in the doorway just as you were.
“Hey,” You break the silence softly, quietly.
She swallows the lump in her throat and runs a hand through her hair, “I’ll use the bathroom downstairs.”
“Wait Belly please,” You step forward towards her before she gets to the stairs, “Please stop.”
She glances back at you at the top of the stairs but ignores whatever thought had crossed her mind, hurrying down before you have another chance to stop her.
You feel your bottom lip tremble and your chest tighten even more, desperate to reach out for a friendship you weren’t ready to lose.
You go into the bathroom and wipe your eyes, letting out a shaky breath against the mirror. How had all of this all happened? How had the last few days flipped things around this much? Were you selfish for admitting how you felt about Conrad? Even more selfish for acting on it? Or was this the first time in a long time you’d felt like you could be happy?
Your breath settles and the tears have stopped and you make your way back over to Conrad’s room, opening the door cautiously so as to not wake him.
When you step back over to the bed, the mattress dips and Conrad groans a little as he wakes up. You settle in beside him and he pulls you right up against his chest, his chin resting against your shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
You settle your hands over his arms on you, as if wanting to hold onto the moment, “I’m okay.”
“What’s the time?” He mumbles, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder.
“Um,” You let out, still a shake in your voice, “I don’t know.”
“Too early,” Conrad grumbles, pushing himself closer against you as if there was any space to remove.
You breath in deeply as he falls asleep against you, clingy and comfortable and soft. And you’re happy. You know you are. Beyond anything else, he made you happy.
———
You don’t get much sleep after that, waking up every twenty minutes and eventually settling on remaining awake. Conrad stays asleep until gone 10, groaning and tightening his hold around you as if making sure you were still there.
“Morning,” He mumbles, inhaling deeply.
“Morning,” You respond, holding him a little tighter, “Did you sleep okay?”
Conrad wiggles his arms around you until you turn in his hold, facing him. He blinks until it’s as if he’s woken up for the second time, pulling away from you enough so that he can see your face, he frowns;
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“No- nothing, I’m just tired.”
Conrad pauses for a second before seemingly opting to believe you, “You can stay in bed longer if you want, I can get us breakfast.”
“No, that’s okay, we should probably face the music soon anyway,” You take a deep breath, “I think… I was thinking, it might be better if we just keep our distance from each other a little. At least until everything calms down.”
Conrad raises his brows, “Keep our distance?”
“Well, nothing big, just maybe try to avoid being too couple-y in front of them, just while we’re figuring things out,” You continue, “It’ll just make things worse if they see us acting like-“
“Yeah, you’re right,” Conrad assures you, “We’ll keep it on the down low.”
“Okay.”
Both of you are silent, as if revelling in each others company for just a moment longer before you both decide to get up. He slips a hoodie on over his bare torso and you switch his top out for one of your own - better than them seeing you in his clothes. Conrad follows behind you as the two of you walk out of his room, trailing down the stairs to your waiting dread.
You stop on the bottom step when you hear it.
“I don’t get it man, I thought they were meant to be best friends,” Steven’s voice says, “How can you do that to someone?”
“Yeah well I don’t think she cared about how Belly would react,” Jeremiah this time.
“Clearly not, she knew how Belly felt. We all knew Belly was waiting for Conrad,” Steven continues.
Conrad places his hand on your back, stepping past you to walk ahead.
“Morning boys,” Conrad starts as he walks into the kitchen, you still on the stairs watching his figure retreat.
“Morning,” Steven clears his throat.
You can feel your hands shaking, your heart seemingly clenching under the pain. Your breath is shaky too, as you step forward and eventually follow into the lounge.
“Hey,” You say softly, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“I-“ Steven looks at you awkwardly, “I didn’t know you were awake.”
“Um,” You drag a hand through your hair, “Yeah, I can go if you want me to-“
“No, no,” Steven shakes his head, “It’s fine.”
Jeremiah looks between you and Conrad and rolls his eyes, walking out towards the door. You bite your lip to stop it from trembling, trying to shake even the slightest of worries from your head.
“He’s just-“ Steven stops himself, “I think we’re all just figuring it out, them two more than me.”
“You know (Y/n)‘s not to blame for this Steven,” Conrad comments, turning around from where he’d been filling the kettle at the sink, “So you can cut the whole ‘what was she thinking’ act.”
“I didn’t-“ Steven stops himself, glancing at you, “I was just surprised, okay? It seemed a little out of the blue.”
Conrad goes to cut in to defend you but you speak before he gets the chance;
“I never meant to hurt Belly,” You say, shaking your head quickly, “I love her. But ever since we were little we’ve come to Cousins and it’s been about her and Conrad - we go back home and she talks about him, and we’re here and she talks about him, and everything went back to him. And I love her, I do. But I’m allowed to be happy. And I can’t control how I feel and I can’t control how Conrad feels and you can hate me if you want but I-“
Steven stands up instantly when he sees the tears spilling over your eyes, the way your whole body seems to tremble, “Hey, hey, hey, please don’t cry, I don’t know what to do when girl’s cry.”
“I know I’m the worst and I’m so sorry Steven, I never wanted this to happen,” You let out a sob and Conrad steps over almost within the second.
He stops, however, as Steven wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him as your hands fly to your face to catch the tears spilling from you. Steven holds you tightly and glances over at you to Conrad, noticing the way his whole body seems tense at the sight of you upset. He sees it then.
“I’m sorry for what I said,” Steven says softly, pulling away from you, “I just- I didn’t know. And I know what Belly’s like and she’s my sister and I don’t like seeing her upset.”
You nod, looking down at your feet. Conrad hands over a tissue to you and you smile with as much as you can muster.
“If you like him, if he likes you, then there’s no reason why the two of you shouldn’t be able to act on that,” Steven continues, “I might see that now but it’ll take a while before my sister does. And Jere.”
Conrad clenches his jaw, “I’m sick of feeling like this is our fault. What are we supposed to do? Hold off just to keep them happy?”
You sniff, “Con…”
“(Y/n) come on!” He half-laughs, “We’re adults. We’re allowed to do this.”
“Tell that to my sister,” Steven scoffs, patting Conrad on the chest, “I think she’ll disagree.”
He walks out of the room, leaving you and Conrad in each other’s company once again. His eyes fall to you, softening almost instantly.
“We’re not doing anything wrong, darling,” He speaks so gently you almost melt into the words, your whole being seeming to relax just enough that you could believe him.
“It doesn’t feel like that,” You let out a small laugh, dragging the tissue under your eyes to clear away the remaining tears, “God, I hate this.”
Conrad nods, “But you know what you don’t hate?” He walks around to the other side of the kitchen island, tapping his hands on the countertop, “Pancakes!”
———
You still hadn’t seen Belly all morning. But the most you could convince yourself of now was that at least Steven didn’t hate you. Things could be worse. That was one of three, right?
You’d showered, got changed, and convinced yourself a thousand times that nothing could be worse than it already had been. Though, when you came downstairs again, that same sinking feeling of dread hit you.
“(Y/n)?” It’s Laurel’s voice and you instantly wince.
You step past the door to the lounge and look inside, seeing her sat there, “Hey, is everything okay?”
“Do you have a minute?” Laurel offers, shifting on the couch enough as if gesturing for you to sit beside her.
You nod silently and sit down beside her, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“So I’m guessing you know that Belly told me what’s happened,” Laurel begins, “Or, at least, what is happening.”
You let out a sigh, “I’m so sorry Laurel I never meant to-“
She lifts a finger as if to stop you, “I wasn’t expecting you to apologise.”
“Wh-“
Laurel smiles softly, reaching out and taking your hand, “A few summers ago, probably more than a few now, Conrad came inside when all of you were playing in the garden. He came in and I could just see this look on his face, he was just watching all of you. He turned around to me, so innocently, and asked how I’d known that I loved Belly and Steven’s father. I remember thinking, God this kid is too young to be talking about love. But he looked out of that window and it felt like I could really see it. For years I thought he was looking at Belly, like she was the one he would love eventually, but last summer I realised it wasn’t her; he was looking at you.”
You feel the lump form in your throat, less one of nerves and more one of overwhelming emotion.
“Belly’s your best friend and you can’t lose her. But if you look at Conrad the same way he looked at you all those years ago, you can’t lose him either,” Laurel continues, squeezing your hand gently.
You glance out of the window where Conrad is walking across the grass, running a hand through his hair. Laurel looks at you and smiles without your eyes returning to hers, too captured by the boy walking towards the house.
“Belly will understand eventually,” Laurel assured you, standing up from the couch and heading back out.
She stops at the door as Conrad is just about to open it, his hand reaching for the handle as she opens it in front of him. He looks at her almost nervously, concerned for her reaction. But she simply smiles and reaches for his hand, squeezing it in the same way she had done for yours. He steps inside, his eyes searching for you instantly.
“What was that about?” He frowns, glancing back at where Laurel had just left.
You stand up from the couch and smile, “Just talking.”
He narrows his eyes at you as if suspicious, “If you say so.”
Conrad steps the short distance over to you until his feet almost bump with yours. He smiles when you look up at him.
“I got you something at the store,” Conrad begins, his hands held behind his back.
“What did you get me?” You grin, feeling the way your cheeks seem to heat under his gaze.
“Fresh doughnuts,” He pulls a bag out from behind his back and smiles, “The ones you always say are your favourites.”
“Ugh you’re the best!” You beam, taking the bag from him, “They never normally have them anymore an-“
You’re both interrupted as Susannah comes to the door, stopping, “Oh sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll leave you to-“
“You’re not interrupting Mom,” Conrad says softly, turning to face her as his shoulder bumps yours.
“Well, I just thought I’d tell you that we’re having a party tonight, a last minute thing really,” She explains quickly, “I want you all to dress up like the 80s.”
“Dress up?” Conrad scoffs, “Mom Im not going to-“
You hit his arm quickly.
“I’ll dress up.”
You grin at his instant change of heart and Susannah mouths a silent ‘thank you’ to you, disappearing in a hurry to go off to tell the others.
“What do you even wear for an 80s theme?” Conrad groans.
You pat him on the chest, “We’ll find you something.”
———
The whole day had gone by and you still hadn’t seen Belly. You’d been out by the pool and Conrad had gone surfing, you’d made your lunch in the kitchen and he’d been up in his room, you’d made every effort to be separate from him for the chance encounter you might have with Belly.
But nothing.
Nothing from her, nothing from Jeremiah.
You go into the room you shared with her, assuming she’d still be absent, and start to rummage through your suitcase for anything that could mildly resemble an 80s theme.
When the door creaks open, you feel your stomach drop.
Belly.
“I-“ You start as you make eye contact with her, “Sorry, I just needed to find something to wear.”
Belly shrugs, wrapping her arms over her chest, “It’s your room as much as it is mine.”
You stand up from your suitcase and clear your throat, “I don’t know why I thought I’d find something, I don’t own anything remotely 80s.”
She doesn’t respond.
“Do you-“ You pause, “Do you know what you’re going to wear?”
“Susannah let me borrow some bits,” She looks down at the clothes her arms are wrapped around.
“Oh, right yeah, that’s good,” You nod, looking around the room as if seeking anything that you could talk about next, “I’ll get out of your way if you-“
“You can wear something here if you want,” Belly interrupts, “If you’ve not got anything.”
“Um, yeah, that would be great, thanks Bells,” You smile, “I’ll just… I’ll have whatever you don’t want.”
The two of you stand in silence again as if every word has disappeared.
“God, Belly, this is so weird,” You exhale, “I hate not talking to you.”
“Yeah,” She runs a hand through her hair, looking down at her feet, “It’s weird.”
“Right?” You exclaim, “I mean, this is the longest I’ve ever gone without speaking to you. I feel like it’s been forever.”
“It feels like it,” She chews on her bottom lip.
“I’m so sorry Belly,” You sigh, “I- I never meant to hurt you, I never wanted that to happen.”
She doesn’t speak.
“I just- I got so caught up in all of it and I was just so terrified of telling you that I thought maybe I could wait it out. But I was so terrified of losing you that it just felt better to not tell you,” You shake your head, “I’m just… I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you but I just-“
“Why did you do it (Y/n)? I mean, why didn’t you tell me how you felt about him?” Belly shrugs, “Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”
“Belly…” You pause, taking a deep breath, “Ever since we first started coming to Cousins, I was always ‘Belly’s best friend’. We’d go and see people and I wasn’t (Y/n), I was just Belly’s friend. And I was always fine with it because that’s what I was, you know? That’s who I am, I know I’m not one of this family you’ve got here, I get that. And so that whole time I was just there to see you, to spend summer with my best friend. And when you first told me that you liked Conrad, that just felt like another part of spending summer with you. It didn’t matter what I thought or how I felt, because I was there for you. I guess… that just felt like it changed a couple of summers ago. It was little things, really. And then I got home after that summer and realised that I had to think of myself too - and it was Conrad that I liked. And it wasn’t because you liked him too or because you wanted him, it was just me. When Conrad kissed me this summer it felt exactly like that. It was me and it was him and for the first time I felt like I was here because I belonged here. You’ve been the best friend to me Belly, but in that moment I just had to think about myself, what I wanted. And when he kissed me I knew that’s what it was, it was him.”
She looks at you and her features seem to soften, the tension in her shoulders seems to relax - just a little.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you Belly, but I can’t be sorry that I fell for Conrad,” You shake your head, “I can’t be sorry for choosing myself.”
“Okay,” Belly croaks out, her voice hoarse and weak, “I understand.”
You’re the one lost for words this time, unsure of yourself.
“Thank you,” Belly says calmly, “Um, I should probably start to get ready. I’ll see you in a bit.”
She walks over to the vanity and you have no choice but to leave the room, scooping together your clothes and makeup bag and walking out. Your chest felt tight but in a more manageable sort of way, like you could live with it - slightly at ease.
When you step into the room, Conrad stands upright from the bed, a furrow of worry between his brows.
“So?” He looks at you, testing the waters for if you’d crumble in front of him.
You simply shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know, Con.”
His features soften and he reaches out for your hand, squeezing it tightly, “It’ll be okay.”
You nod just a little, “I hope so.”
“Um,” He glances around the room, “Okay, you need to help me choose what to wear.”
You sit down at his desk and bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs, chin resting on your kneecaps. Conrad lifts up a few tops on clothes hangers and holds them up but he pauses as soon as he sees you. You look so innocent just like that and he wonders how anyone has it in them to be mad at you. He knew your heart, pure, and he knew your mind, honest. And he’s suddenly terrified of the thought of ever seeing you hurt like this.
“Hey,” He walks over and crouches down in front of you until his head is level with yours, “I want you to believe me, okay? We’re going to figure this out. However long it takes, however hurt they are, there’s an end to it.”
You smile just a little but your eyes close as if you’re fighting every morsel of your being to not cry there and then.
Conrad thinks of a million things he could say, the thought of eight letters, three words, comes to mind but he pushes it back for now. He could tell you it would be okay, that he could handle it, that he wasn’t leaving you, that this would all be worth it. But he suppresses every word that comes to mind, leans forward instead to press a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment longer. He feels you lean into him, feels the worry just slip away from you momentarily as if he can share in it for just a second.
You had him. And he’d do everything he could to remind you of that.
———
By the time the evening rolls around, you and Conrad are somewhat ready for the party. He’s changed into the only top he owns that looks remotely on theme and you’re wearing a hot pink bodysuit and black shorts - both of you half on theme at least. You fix your curled hair in the mirror once more, double checking your appearance as Conrad comes up behind you, placing his hands on your waist.
“Come on,” He leans into you, “We can do this.”
You turn in his arms until you’re facing him, looping your hands behind his neck, “Or we run away.”
He sways with you just a little back and forth as if pondering the option, “Maybe tomorrow.”
You lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips and he moves his hand down to lace with yours, guiding both of you out of the room when it felt near impossible to move your feet. He holds your hand all the way downstairs until you reach where the party is in full swing, his grip releasing on you to instead press to the small of your back.
“Do you want a drink, darling?” He says into your ear and you nod, looking at him as he pushes through the crowd of people to get to the kitchen.
You turn towards the garden and see Steven, Belly and Jeremiah all stood outside, Steven evidently trying to make them both laugh. For a moment you’re sure that things will be fine, and you push open the door without a second thought. But you stop. There’s a sadness on Belly’s face that no smile could hide, and an anger in the clench of Jeremiah’s jaw that it was impossible to ignore.
“Hey, (Y/n)!” Steven waves to you, “Get over here, I need you to back me up on this.”
You swallow the lump in your throat and walk over, instantly relaxing a little as Steven throws an arm over your shoulder. You glance at Belly and Jeremiah and they both offer you small smiles. Your chest feels less tense.
“Alright one million dollars to go in the ring with Mike Tyson, no head guards, like 10 ounce gloves,” Steven explains, “Are you doing it?”
“Um,” You clear your throat, “No, I would absolutely die.”
“Oh come on!” Steven exclaims.
“Told you she’d agree with us,” Belly shrugs, glancing at you momentarily.
The four of you fall silent again.
“Alright guys please talk it out or something, this is fucking awkward,” Steven rolls his eyes.
“Im not mad at you, (Y/n),” Jeremiah assures you, “I just- needed to clear my head today.”
“Yeah, and I’m glad we spoke about things earlier,” Belly adds, “But-“
They glance at each other and then back at you.
“Guys…” Steven begins as if warning them about whatever would happen next.
“He’s going to break your heart, (Y/n).”
You feel your heart sink, the weight seemingly hitting your shoulders. As much as they weren’t mad at you, they couldn’t be happy for you. And something about that felt worse. Every day, every week, every summer, they’d be waiting for the moment when Conrad proved them right. When you’d come running to them and say ‘I wish I’d listened’. And you couldn’t live like that. They were waiting for some fucked up version of inevitable and you couldn’t stand under their gaze waiting for it to happen.
“He’s playing games,” Jeremiah persists, “He’s spent years knowing how Bells felt about him, like literally forever. And he knew how I felt about you. Conrad’s like this, he likes to be in control. And being with you gives him that control.”
You feel your mouth run dry, a ringing in your ears like your mind was begging you not to listen to them.
“He’s not one for relationships,” Belly chimes in and your blurry eyes turn to her, “He’s going to drop you and we just… we don’t want to see you get your heart broken.”
They’d never be happy for you.
“I-“ You croak out, eyes flooded with tears yet to fall.
“Guys seriously, cut it out,” Steven persists, “You’re upsetting her.”
“I ju-“ Your voice cracks and you shake your head, a million thoughts running through your mind.
Not a single one of those thoughts believed what they were saying. But all you could think about was going the rest of your summers with people that were waiting for you to crumble, and you couldn’t do it. Every move Conrad made, they’d be waiting. Every day you seemed slightly less than yourself, they’d be expecting it. They were so far from being happy for you, that they were waiting for you to fail.
Almost too perfectly timed, the door opens once more and it’s Conrad who steps out. You’re sure his heart must swell at the sight of the four of you from afar, as if something about the past few days had just healed. But the closer he steps, the same unbreaking tension hits him too.
“Wh- what’s going on?” He frowns, looking between all of them before his eyes settle on you, “(Y/n)?”
You glance up at him and you know for certain in that moment that he won’t break your heart. That, in fact, he’d do every single thing in his power to do the exact opposite of that. Whatever happened, whatever would change, breaking your heart was never going to be part of his plans. But this couldn’t go on. You’d lose everybody. And so would Conrad. And you couldn’t be the person waiting around watching him slip away from the people he called family.
“I can’t-“ You look into his eyes and yours seem to soften, reflecting the worry of his own, “I can’t do this.”
Before anyone has the chance to stop you, you turn around on your heel and hurry across the garden and back into the house.
“(Y/n)!” You hear Conrad call after you but it falls onto deaf ears.
He turns back to the others and frowns, glancing between them all as if waiting for an explanation.
“Wh- what did you do?” He croaks out, his entire body flooding somewhere between worry and anger.
“You’re going to hurt her, Conrad,” Jeremiah shrugs, “We can’t let you do that to her.”
“Hurt her?” Conrad scoffs, “You think I’m going to hurt her?”
“Why did you kiss her when you knew how I felt about her? When you knew how Belly felt about you?” Jeremiah persists, standing square in front of his brother.
“Because I-“ Conrad looks between him and Belly, “Because I wasn’t thinking about you. I was thinking about (Y/n).”
“Because you’re fucking selfish and you always have been!”
“Selfish?” Conrad lets out an exasperated laugh, “Selfish for choosing myself one fucking time, for not running around worrying about you? For letting myself be fucking happy? That’s such a crime? You need to look at yourself, Jere. Grow up.”
“You’re telling me to grow up? Yo-“
“Yes I’m telling you to grow up!” Conrad raises his voice, “Stop acting like everyone needs to worry about you, or Belly, or whatever the hell else. I love (Y/n). And the crazy fucking thing is I haven’t even told her that yet. And you guys can hate us and hate me and hate everything about this but it’s not going to change anything. Okay? It’s not.”
Jeremiah doesn’t speak, his jaw tensed, Belly stood behind him like she’s blocking herself from Conrad’s words, convincing herself it isn’t true.
“So you decide - you go on convincing yourself this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, or you grow up and accept that we’re happy, and that maybe we could make each other happy,” Conrad shakes his head, “These past few days we shouldn’t have had to worry about you, (Y/n) shouldn’t have been crying because she’s terrified of losing you. She’s meant to be your best friend Belly,” He turns his attention to her, “It wouldn’t hurt you to act like it.”
None of them speak.
Conrad clenches his jaw and looks between them all, thinking of a million more things he could say. But he ignores every single one of them, forgetting everything to simply follow after you. He drops the drinks in his hands down, pushes through the crowds of people, barges his way upstairs, taking the steps two at a time until he gets to his room.
Empty.
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
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Sugar (C)Rush Short: Heated 🔞
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In which you finally get what you want, but its more than you'd thought.
Tags/Warnings: Wolf!Jungkook, Dog!Reader, Smut, NSFW, Slow sex, protected sex because we wrap it up in this household, knotting oops, a lot of.. fluids, very fluff, soft, so soft, nesting, biting?, they're so cute
Length: 2k Words
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Jungkook is definitely not in a hurry, that's for sure.
He seems entirely content watching you struggle on his lap, grinding into his hand for any sort of relief, though it's not that easy. "Have you ever spent it with anyone before?" He asks gently, tucking some of your hair behind your ear before his hand holds your lower back again, giving you a sense of security on your position on his lap.
You shake your head, and he chuckles, curling his finger a little, which makes you jump from the sudden movement. "So I'm your first?" He wonders, and you nod, stilling a little.
"Is that.. bad?" You ask, a little confused and also out of breath, but he laughs, and shakes his head.
"Means I don't have to compete first of all-" He jokes, before leaning back a bit further, and pushing your behind forward- making you realize rather quickly what exactly you're now sitting on. "-but also makes me wanna make sure I'll stay your one and only." He hums with a dark gaze, something that makes you squirm a little.
"But-" You worry a little, ears tilted backwards, as his hand reaches out to caress your cheek. "-you're a wolf? Don't you wanna.. have fun, you know, until you find your mate?" You ask, and he smiles at you, shrugging.
"Who says I haven't found it already?" He tells you charmingly, making you shy away a little from him. "I'm not joking." He tells you, and you're not sure what to say now.
"Can we.. maybe, nest together?" You ask, quietly as if you don't want to be heard- but he hears it clearly, and nods.
"Of course. We don't have to do anything at all-" He tells you, but you shake your head, without thinking pressing down a little on his pretty obvious tent in his pants, making him groan out.
"Oh- sorry-" You apologize, but he's still smiling, taking it lightly. "But uh.. I do want to, but like, I don't know.. properly?" You wonder, and he nods, understanding.
"Of course." He smiles, helping you onto your feet to go gather all the blankets you think might be necessary for a proper nest- constantly looking at Jungkook for reassurance, which he happily provides. You're worried the longer you take the less he'll be interested in.. well, that, but it doesn't seem like he's bothered at all.
It's relaxing, comfortable. Makes you feel more at ease than you thought you would be.
You're not sure what to really do as you move the blankets and pillows around in the living room, but he's quick to help you in that task. And as soon as he realizes you're satisfied with it as you lean into the sides of the nest, finally laying down to rub your scent all over it, he's all over you. His hands are pressing your back into his front, face in your neck as he nips at the skin, teeth biting playfully, not enough to hurt.
He's still just playing around.
But you want more.
You let yourself fall down onto your back beneath him, eagerly accepting his heated kisses while you squirm under his exploring hands. Unbeknownst to you, your scent is already driving him crazy- but he's using all of his willpower to control himself and take things slow. Not just for your sake-
But also because he really enjoys seeing you so desperate.
He complies with your wordless request to lose his shirt- and while you're a little bit intimidated, you try and stay calm. It's not like you believe he'd hurt you. It's more the insecurity of your currently very much not as lean body he's about to see, lower stomach a little bloated from the hormones rushing through you- for once without any medication to control them.
But he doesn't seem appalled at all once he pulls your top over your head. If anything, he appears to be even more eager now, hands running over your warm skin, lips kissing your neck and shoulder. "You're so pretty." He compliments randomly, breathlessly, and you can't do much more than whine, tail wagging. "Hm?" He chuckles, leans back on his heels as he pulls your legs over one of his shoulders, pulling both your shorts and underwear off in one go, before he lets them fall down somewhere in the distance. Your legs are lowered again, and so is he- mouth and hand on you now, clearly starting to explore what makes you feel the best.
His fingers feel foreign inside you, so much better than your own, and you can't help but buck your hips a little at the sensations of it all. His tongue is warm, sometimes running flat over your heat, and occasionally, he closes his lips over your sensitive nerves to gently suck. It's all so new and unclear- you never really know what's coming next, and maybe for once, you're not scared about that fact. Because it's him- and he knows what's best, right?
Once he's pleased with whatever he's been doing to you does he open his own jeans, finally getting rid of the last pieces of clothing hiding his skin away from you.
And one look is enough for you to now know why he'd brought that.. bottle of clear lube with him.
"You know, I brought the lube for a reason.." He almost.. shyly tells you, hand teasing you between your legs, almost playfully coating his own fingers in your clear arousal. "..but I don't think I actually need it." He teases, before he moves to roll the condom over himself, the hand that's been occupied with you just moments prior now running over the entirety of his length base to tip, making you swallow almost impatiently at the sight. "If anything hurts-" he starts, but you just whimper in complaint.
"-I'll tell you. Please-!" You beg, legs pulled close to your stomach to present to him, and he can't help the soft growl that escapes him at the sight of your submissive impatience, skin all flushed and hips unable to stay still it seems. The hairs of your fluffy tail stick together in little groups at the base, wet from your own arousal having slowly traveled down, slowly reaching the sheets below you by now.
He pulls on your knees before be adjusts your position to his preference- having you lay somewhat sideways, one leg held by his hand under your thigh over his waist while the other stays on the bed, comfortably stretched out. He doesn't need much help even from himself to find your entrance, tip easily slipping inside, and he can already feel you clenching around nothing. "So needy.." he teases, before he pushes quite a bit, a sigh leaving you as you feel him filling you up inch by inch.
He goes slow, steady, let's you adjust for as long as you have to, patiently scanning your body and face for any signs of discomfort as he moves along. He's making your head spin and thoughts go silent, nothing on your mind but him- as you slowly let yourself go, very much aware of what's happening to you- and one look is shared with him, before you let your instincts take control, his own reacting almost immediately.
And then he pulls back, just to push back in with a lot more force than before, a wet smack accompanying the motion. You can't keep your voice quiet, the moan escaping you soft but audible, and he smiles to himself, watching you. He does it again, leans over you now, free hand pushing into the blankets you're laying on right next to your waist, lips finding yours in a heated kiss.
Now you understand what other hybrids mean when they say how good your heat can feel with the right partner.
The deeper he goes, the more your body feels like it's on a Rollercoaster- that distinctive feeling in your stomach making your hips writhe while he leans back a little, holding your thigh to keep you close while his hips move sinfully. Normally, your mind would be full of worry.
But right now, it's just filled with the need for pleasure- the need to be as close as you can to him.
"So good.." he sighs, eyes focusing on the sticky strings of your arousal clinging to his skin already, wet sounds accompanying every soft thrust he delivers to you, slow moving, everything still casual, soft, gentle- and he plans to keep it this way, for now, to slowly ease you into it. He can't wait to breed you properly one day, make love to you until your body gives up- but for this time, he behaves, goes slow, let's you adjust.
This isn't about him, after all. It's all about you, and the connection you're creating in this moment.
And he can't say that he's missing anything either- though true, that he's typically a more.. active lover, always needing a certain sense of excitement and primal form of aggression, but for the first time, he doesn't actually mind this slow love at all. He enjoys this fully, if only for the look on your face, head pushed back into the pillows below, soft sighs and eager whining coming from you, as you stretch your arms above your head, back arching in pleasure. You're pushing yourself closer to him, leg now moving to turn yourself over onto your back instead, ankles pulling yourself closer as your heels push against the small of his back, making his hips snap against you a little harsher, skin against skin now louder in the room.
"Such a pretty girl.." He hums breathlessly, hands grabbing at your thighs as he pulls you closer, your legs becoming restless as you begin to clearly chase your first high. your tone raises in pitch, breaths coming shorter, as you clench around his length inside you, and he himself can feel his own high approaching as well. His hands become eager to touch, your skin too warm and soft and enticing to not run his fingers over, the need to feel you suffocating almost.
It's then that he changes positions once more, now leaning over you, lips catching yours in a heated kiss that's clearly trying to steal your breath. His tongue is eager to taste you, and you willingly let him, all shame thrown out the window as he picks up the pace, finally giving you the last push you needed as you whine out, tipping over the edge as he snaps his hips into yours, moving to instead bite at your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. He needs to mark you up, has to claim you, because if this isn't love, then love has to be a lie.
He has to keep you. Needs you at his side forever. You're it for him, and he knows it- realizing only seconds after his knot locks him inside you, that the bond between you both has snapped into place.
Mates.
He never thought it was actually a real thing- always somehow thought it was just a very romanticized fictional story people talk about when they think of their partners. Like soulmates, it was just a pretty little story to him- but this? This is real. So much so that it almost hurts.
He holds you close long after you both reached your highs, and it's not just because of his knot keeping you locked inside you. It's also to bond with you fully, arms reaching to adjust the nest around you, pulling the blankets closer to support your back, while he makes sure to not make you uncomfortable or hurt you by moving too much.
You on the other hand just cling to him and his warm skin, his scent and his care and his overall emotional energy keeping you close, as if there's an invisible string keeping you attached. You don't know it yet- you'll probably figure it out once you're in a more rational headspace again, however. But for now, it doesn't matter.
For now, you just exist.
For now, you're both just simply in love.
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chernabogs · 8 months
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Monody
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Inc: Malleus x Reader, with special inclusion of Malleus' grandmother, Lilia, and Sebek's mother. Warnings: Existential crisis, brief allusion to death WC: 2k+ Summary: Fae loved rarely, but when they did, it was an all or nothing event—there was no hesitation when it came to that plunge.  And this scared him.
She never remarried. When he was younger, his mind didn’t quite wrap around it as he would look up at her portrait in the palace halls. Her, and his mother—a mere child at the time—with her sombre gaze and blank expression, ungiving of any thoughts she had as the portrait was made. She was youthful herself, enough so that surely any Fae in the Valley would have sought her hand, and yet she never replaced the ring his grandfather gave her, nor did she take it off. 
What a silly move, he may have once thought. Are you not lonely? Are the ghosts not driving you away? 
Ghosts can do little to provide warmth at night, and ghosts are all that Black Scale Palace had. A skeleton court with spectres in the rafters. Once there may have been merriment and joy, but that was well before his hatching. His childhood consisted of hushed conversations in dark palace halls, faces that aged well before their time, and a heavy silence that lingered in the air. 
There’s a mausoleum for his family near the palace grounds, and it’s in this place of death that he first discovered the horrors of love. In the stagnant interior, where stone tombs with his family members' faces carved on them rest, he would hide as a child from tutors and guardians alike. The flickering of eternal flames on the wall provided enough light to see the features of those he would never meet. On newfound legs with newfound hands he would touch the face of his mother, of his grandfather, and of all those who came before, mapping them onto his own like he was trying to find a part of them in him somewhere. 
His grandmother found him there once. He expected a scolding, but instead she stood in silence, letting him explore until she finally cleared her throat to alert him of her presence. 
"This is grandfather?", he would ask her, in the innocent manner that children often do when topics of death arise. And she would nod, as he moved to the next tomb. "And this is mother?", he asked, and she would nod again, her gaze once more ungiving to the thoughts in her mind. 
"Do you miss them?"
He didn’t know loss the way she did at the time. He didn’t know the pain from losing your love, from losing your daughter, from not knowing if the last member of your family will live or not. 
"I do." He remembers her answering. She stood by the door as she spoke, as though afraid to enter further, afraid to approach the faces that she once saw with life and now only knew in dreams. "I miss them greatly."
"Why?" He had turned to look at her. Her face was washed in shadows, but her eyes—he would always remember her eyes. They were blank as she looked at him. 
"Everyone misses the ones they love when they leave us. You cannot speak with them, or hold them, or tell them how much they mean to you. All you can do is stand here—and stare."
He had turned back to the tomb of his mother, with her sombre gaze and blank expression. With features of stone she felt cold to touch, and Malleus suspected the shiver that ran up his spine was not simply because of the mausoleum's temperature. He looked back at his grandmother again, at the way she stared at the tombs that surrounded them, before he hurried to her side. 
He did not want to love, he decided then, in a rash thought fuelled by a child's fear. He did not want to be like her one day, at the entrance of a tomb alone, with only the option to stand—and stare. 
Love is for the lonely. 
_______________________________________________
He knew the Zigvolt girl from the scarce Court events that he was allowed to attend. She was much like her father—loud, with electric green hair and scales adorning her cheeks. She towered over the others with a presence that commanded attention and a laugh that drew all eyes to her when she let it free. As a child, he had found her noisy and irritating, a feeling he had commented to Lilia on more than one occasion. 
Then one day she was not there. The absence of sound, of that loud laugh and commanding tone, jarred him briefly and he had ventured to Lilia to question where the young socialite had gone. 
"Do you miss her already?" Lilia had chuckled, causing Malleus’ brow to furrow in response. 
"Is she ill?" 
Illness was the only explanation he could fathom, despite never experiencing it himself. Then he saw Lilia’s expression—a brief flash of sympathy—before it fell back to benign amusement. 
"No, not ill. But I dare say we will be seeing less of her at events of the nobility from here on out." Was all he had offered back, as frustratingly cryptic as always. 
It was through Malleus’ unspoken-of (yet highly developed) talent for eavesdropping that he gradually began to piece together the scandalous tale of the young socialite and the dental assistant she had found herself enamoured with. 
When Malleus learned the man was a human, he had decided that the Zigvolt girl was as foolish as he had suspected. Tensions still lingered with human-kind, and every Fae knew that the shortness of a human's lifespan compared to their own made relationships a ridiculous idea to pursue. Why would one wish to intentionally hurt themself by loving something that would leave them so soon? Surely the brief halcyon days that such a romance would bring would not be worth the bleakness that follows when the coffin is set in the earth? 
"She’s happy," Lilia had mused as Malleus pried into the relationship even further. "Baul, less so, but I think even he is gradually warming up to the idea."
"But why?" Malleus had asked, scowling as he did. "Why choose him when she knows he’ll die soon?"
Lilia had fixed Malleus with an unusually stern look at that. The two stood in Lilia’s cottage, facing off against each other with Malleus—in the typical teenage temperament—looking frustrated in turn. "She’s foolish."
"Love makes fools of us all." Lilia had countered then. "When you know you have found the right person, you care little for the obstacles that stand in your way. You would tear the world asunder for them. Death may end it physically, but the feeling will always remain."
"Foolish." He repeated, shaking his head and turning away. "What is the point of being so vulnerable when you know it will only last a moment?"  
He had been invited to the wedding. Although he did not go, he had been told the Zigvolt girl had radiated a joy so great that it put even the brightest of the sun's rays to shame. 
Love is for the fools. 
_______________________________________________
Ramshackle was a dorm of ruins. Even from beyond the gates, he could hear the sound of the floorboards rotting and the cement cracking under the weight of time. It was a soothing melody of decay that seemed to lighten his heart significantly whenever he passed by at night. There was something so lovely about seeing places of life now stand as monoliths in the night. 
Which is why, when he saw a light on in the window, it had irritated him deeply. At first he believed that students had crept in for a fright—something he would be more than happy to give them—until a figure had stepped out and stood on the porch, watching him. 
He stood by the iron gate, and stared right back. 
They faced off against each other for a long moment before the figure trekked down the pathway—he could hear that gaudy shuffling—and came to a stop before him. 
A human. 
A plain, rather forgetful human, who looked up at him like a child with an expression of both confusion and concern. 
The encounter had been brief, enough so that he figured he would forget about it as soon as he returned back to Diasomnia. And yet, it still lingered in his mind in the coming nights, accompanied by an odd spark of eagerness for what would happen next. 
What name shall you give me? What role shall I play? 
The gifting of a name was an intimate act often reserved for those closest to one another. He had never been close to anyone beyond family and those affiliated with them. This stranger in the night, one of curiosity and caution, would be the first he would forge this connection with. 
The name you had granted had been laughable, and it took all of his self-control not to crack a grin when you announced it with such pride at the next encounter. Your naivety was charming in a quaint, adoring manner. That was not the only aspect that drew his interest. Your resilience, your ambition, your compassion to the students around you that so greatly contrasted what he had grown up witnessing in his years at Black Scale Palace. You were refreshing. 
There was a feeling there. It unsettled him. He didn’t tell Lilia about it; rather, he secured it in a locked box in his chest, pushing it away and dismissing it as a mere interest over your willingness to be so at ease with him. Sometimes that feeling rattled around and made him feel nauseous, both with himself and with you. Other times, it was though it never existed at all. 
Things changed when he over-blotted. 
Perhaps it was a cruelty on his part to let you be exposed to the horrors and the tragedies that had plagued his homeland for so long. Perhaps a part of him craved you to know it, to know him, so you would realize that he was not the kind of person you had built up in your mind. He gave you death, and loss, and sorrow—
And in the end, you gave him forgiveness. 
He tore the world asunder like Lilia had once alluded to and you had stood through it all, your gaze never wavering, your heart never shaken. He hated it. He hated you (what a lie). He wanted to force you out of existence so that the locked box in his chest could finally be put in the ground like it deserved. He wanted to force Silver, to force Sebek, to force Lilia. The loss of control sent him spiralling because he had always, always, had that at least. 
The aftermath of it all was humbling. 
Broken words and broken apologies had poured from his lips to those who he held dear. He had met the eyes of the boys he helped raise and the man who had raised him. He had looked to you, his friend, his confidant, and perhaps something more—though the thought of that terrified him more than anything else. Black blot was soon washed away and the world began to push forward despite the rotting briar thorns that covered the land, a mausoleum of its own to the actions that occurred that night. 
He had never been to a medical ward, but he was there now, and so were you—sitting by his side, yammering on about some mundane thing that was glossing over his mind. It was on that cot that he had finally forced himself to turn and really look at you. 
A human. 
A plain, rather forgetful human. Nothing about you should have stood out for him, and yet when he looked your way, it was as though the entire world faded out except for your voice. The locked box in his chest felt heavy. He wanted to rip it out and toss it aside. 
You cannot speak with them, or hold them, or tell them how much they mean to you. All you can do is stand here—and stare. 
His grandmother’s words replayed in his mind like a broken record. Fae loved rarely, but when they did, it was an all or nothing event—there was no hesitation when it came to that plunge. 
And this scared him. 
A human. You were a human. 
How long did that give you? 60 years, maybe. 70 if you were fortunate enough. 178 years already felt like a blink of an eye for him, so surely 70 would be just as quick?
He thought about the Zigvolt girl again as he continued to listen to you talk. He had considered her foolish once, but now he realized perhaps it had been envy that he felt, rather than disdain. She had the courage to grasp on to an opportunity despite knowing that it would last only moments in her lifetime. Meanwhile here he was, silently watching you with valuable words unable to leave his throat. 
He looked away to the white ceiling above. A plain, empty space that one could lose themselves in quite easily. 
He wanted to be like the Zigvolt girl. He wanted to be like his grandmother. He wanted to be like Lilia. He wanted to tear the world asunder once more, to shield you away from death as it crept closer and closer with each night that passed. He wanted you. He wanted you, so much so that it ached in his body. 
But he couldn’t do it. Not to you, not to himself. He loved slowly, and someone like you deserved a more fulfilling experience than what he could provide in your lifetime. 
So he simply lay there, and continued to listen to you speak. 
Love is for the lonely.
Love is for the fools. 
Loving you is for someone much bolder than he.
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daycourtofficial · 2 months
Text
Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 8
Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.
Author’s note: this is ridiculous and incredibly self-indulgent but I don’t care I had so much fun writing this. This is the iconic karaoke chapter and I’m so excited 😌
(Masterlist)
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Azriel drove the two of you through town, his motorcycle moving through traffic with ease. Your hold on him continues until he eventually pulls into a parking lot, stopping right in front of a small restaurant nestled beside an Insomnia Cookies store. You were quite impressed with how well you handled the ride - you had kept your gasps and nerves to a minimum.
Until you realized you had to get off the bike.
“Uhhh,” you say, looking at the ground as if the two or three feet away from the asphalt was a ravine.
He chuckles, sensing your hesitation.
“Hold onto my shoulders and just slide off.”
You breathe deeply, preparing yourself for the worst case scenario - either falling off the bike or death. You’re not entirely sure which is preferable.
You follow Azriel’s advice, your hands bracing your weight on his shoulders, sliding off with relative ease. You put your hands up in the air, jumping around at how proud you are of not dying. Azriel just chuckles, shaking his head as he mounts the bike, helping you pull off your helmet.
You two go in, and you look around to see only a one other couple at a table, eating what can only be described as the most delectable smelling sandwiches you’ve ever encountered. You spend a moment looking at the massive menu trying to figure out what sandwich you want. Azriel waits on you, and when you nod to him that you’re ready, he steps forward to the counter.
“Can I get a 12 inch triple meat and a 12 inch meatball sub, and whatever she’s having,” he says, motioning for you to tell him what you want.
You’re a bit surprised, and you desperately want to crack a joke about a 12 inch triple meat, but you bite your tongue, asking for a philly cheese steak instead.
Azriel pays, and you thank him as you two find a table.
“So… 12 inch triple meat, huh?”
Azriel snorts, “it’s Cassian’s go to.”
“What’s on it?”
“I’m pretty certain they just shove a bunch of different kinds of meat on bread, layer a bunch of cheese on top, and warm it up.”
“Hmmm,” you hum, “very on brand for him.”
The guy who took your order brings you your sandwiches in little baskets, one sandwich packed away in a bag.
Cassian’s triple meat, no doubt.
“How’d you like being my backpack?” Azriel asks, biting his sandwich, half of it coming out of the end.
“Excuse me?” You ask, taking a bite of your own, trying to keep the contents inside of the sandwich as you eat.
“My backpack. You were riding on my back, like a backpack.”
“Oh,” you push some hair behind your ear, “It uh wasn’t too bad, it was actually fun when I got used to it.”
“Yeah? Would you ride with me again?”
His eyes sparkle a bit at you, whether that was from the sunlight peaking through the window or if that was just Azriel, you’re not sure.
“Yeah, I think I would. When I was a kid I always wanted to ride a motorcycle,” you say, smiling. “How did you end up driving one?” You ask, not taking your eyes off of him
He hums, thinking about how to respond. “I always wanted to ride one, too. Then after the incident with my hands,” he holds up his gloved hands as if making a point, “after I relearned how to use my hands, all I could think about for years was riding. During my physical therapies, whenever it was getting hard or frustrating, I imagined myself older, being able to grip the handles, feel the wind on me.”
You just smile at him, unsure what to say, hoping your smile comes across as friendly as you tell him, “I just thought it looked cool.”
A smile breaks across his face, a beautiful laugh coming from him.
“It does look cool,” he replies, bunching up the paper from his sandwich once he finishes, throwing it into the basket.
“Rhys actually bought me the bike.”
Your eyes move from the paper to his face, and a somber look overtakes him.
“When we were kids he told me after those therapies that he’d buy me a bike once we were old enough.”
He shakes his head, the memories of all the times Rhys said those words to him coming in and out of his thoughts.
“I never expected him to follow through on it. But he did. He bought me the bike as a graduation gift.”
You were about to ask how an 18 year old could afford that, but Azriel beats you to it.
“Rhys’s dad is somewhat in the picture. If Rhys does things for him, mostly making appearances at family functions, he gets extra money.”
“His dad does pay our rent, and Rhys has a credit and debit card from his dad, but he also needed his dad to sign on for the bike.”
“Your brothers must really love you,” you say, reaching your hand out to cover his.
He looks up at you, hazel eyes peering into your own and he smiles, “yeah, yeah they do.”
-
You walk into the gym that Cassian and Azriel work at. It was quite large and it looked incredibly pristine. It’s full of people working out, seemingly everyone in town was spending their Saturday afternoon sweating the week off.
Azriel pulls out his phone, shooting a text to Cassian about his sandwich. The two of you chat idly about the gym, and Azriel tells you a bit about the guy who does the scheduling when you catch a glimpse of long hair in a half messy bun on the top of his head.
You see Cassian’s head come from a corner and he makes his way to you two, his grin getting bigger as he sees you next to his brother.
“How’d your date go last night?” He asks, not mentioning Az’s spare helmet in your hand or how if he blew out a breath you’d be touching his brother.
Azriel glares at Cassian over you, but you tell him, “uh, terribly, actually. He was a douche.”
Cassian grabs his lunch from Azriel, thanking him.
“That’s too bad.”
And yet, Cassian wouldn’t stop smiling at you. You go to ask him more, but he tells you, “I gotta go - I only have a few minutes to eat. Thanks,” he tells you, and before you realize what’s happening, he’s grabbing your head giving you a kiss on the forehead, doing the same to Azriel.
The two of you stand there confused as Cassian walks away, over his shoulder yelling, “do NOT forget about karaoke tonight!”
-
You stepped into your living room, to find Rhys, Mor, and Az lounging on your couches, not adhering to the bar’s theme. Rita’s did themed karaoke nights once a month and this month’s theme was cowboys.
Naturally you pulled out your Barbie costume from last Halloween, and are now looking at your non-costumed friends gobsmacked.
“Why is no one else dressed up?” You ask incredulously, as all three of them look towards you. Rhys and Mor start laughing, but Azriel lets his eyes graze up and down your body, his gaze making you wonder if you’re even wearing clothes right now.
Mor smiles at you, “we don’t follow the theme - Cassian does though.”
You huff, crossing your arms, “he made it seem like all of you dressed up!”
Rhys’s eyes dance with amusement as he tells you, “because he wanted you to dress up too.”
As if you summoned him, Cassian comes out wearing black leather pants, no shirt, a matching vest, and a cowboy hat. He looks at you, smiling wide. “You look great!” He tells you, clapping you on the shoulder as he walks past you. “Uber’s here.”
You don’t have time to turn around and change as your group is herded out the door and down the elevator. It hadn’t occurred to you to question how the five of you would fit into an uber until you got down to the curb, Mor bolting for the passenger seat as the guys get into the car.
“You can just sit on someone’s lap,” Mor tells you flippantly, before placing a finger on her nose telling you, “nose goes.”
Az, Rhys, and Cass get into the backseat, and Cass pats his lap for you, raising his eyebrows at you.
“Ew,” you tell him, clambering to get in on Az’s side. “I don’t trust you, Cass.”
You drape your legs over Rhys’s lap, your feet landing in Cassian’s hands as you get situated on Az’s lap. You shoot him a look, wanting to know if this is okay, but he’s talking to the uber driver.
You pull up your phone, typing a note into your notes app, showing it to him once he’s finished with whatever he was telling the driver.
Is this okay?
You show it to him as Cassian and Rhys are watching the end of a rugby game on Cassian’s phone on the other end of the backseat. Az reaches for your phone, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he grabs your phone. You watch him type, his fingers dancing across your keyboard, their scarred skin providing a texture you want to touch.
It’s more than fine.
He had replied, and you’re about to respond when he grabs your phone again, typing out:
Just like the way you look in that costume.
He hands you your phone back, smiling as a blush floods your cheeks. He puts his arms around your torso, holding you in place, and one of his hands gently holds onto your hips, securing you to him.
Sitting mostly in Azriel’s lap, you spend the car ride holding onto him, leaning your head into his neck for support while you talk to Cassian, who keeps threatening to tickle your feet. You tell him you get spazzy when tickled, which would give Rhys a free knee to the face.
“Please don’t, Cass. I’d like to keep my face intact for tonight.”
“Yeah because Feyre’s meeting us at Rita’s and he wants to look good,” Mor replies from the front seat, drawing out the last word.
Rhys rolls his eyes, but you do notice him unlock his phone to the messages between him and your friend, the last one asking her to let him know when she got there.
The five of you arrive to Rita’s, a bar located on the edge of campus, just close enough to be packed full of other students.
Mor leads the group in, with Rhys saying, “Feyre’s on her way.” The blonde leads your group to a large round booth in the corner, all of you piling in. Mor sits on your right as you maneuver your way in, Azriel right beside you.
Cassian sits on the edge, likely so he can get up and go sing without being too much of a hindrance. Rhys doesn’t sit down, heading to the bar to grab drinks for everyone instead.
And perhaps keep an eye on the door for a certain brunette.
The four of you sit in the booth, Cassian being uncharacteristically quiet as he waits for Rhysand to bring him his traditional shot before performing.
You nudge Az, getting him to turn his attention to his brother.
“You okay, Cass?”
Cassian shrugs him off, “I just want my shots. You know I prefer being a bit buzzed before going up there.”
You reach in front of Azriel, squeezing Cassian’s forearm, “you’re going to be great!”
Cassian softly smiles at you, his hand covering yours in a gentle squeeze, “thanks, sweetheart.”
Cassian did seem in better spirits, opting to pick up a conversation with Mor about the best shots to drink before karaoke.
You turn to Az, the two of you closer than necessary in the booth, but you can’t bring yourself to scoot away.
“So, Barbie huh?” He asks, his fingers touching the pink pleather fabric on your shoulder.
You’re confused for a moment, before realizing what he’s talking about. “Oh, yeah. Mor wanted us to go as different Barbies from the movie for Halloween - she was rollerskating Barbie, I was cowgirl Barbie, and Feyre was the pink gingham dress Barbie.”
He rests his arm on the booth behind you, and you stay as still as possible so you won’t scare him off as he asks, “no Kens?”
You laugh, “no Kens, unfortunately.”
His smile is on the verge of cracking his face in half as he says, “maybe this Halloween you’ll have some Kens.”
Before you can reply, Rhysand comes back with a tray of shots and Feyre behind him, wearing a very cute black mini dress.
“Traitor!” You shout at her, as she scooches in next to Mor.
“Rhys told me we didn’t actually dress up,” she defends, holding her hands up. Your eyes shoot to violet ones, their gaze full of mischief. Rhys smiles at you, and your jaw drops, “and you didn’t think to extend the same courtesy to me?”
Rhys’s grin grows feral, “I thought surely with all the texting you and Azriel have been doing, he would have told you.”
You turn, smacking him on the shoulder as he chuckles. “Okay, okay, I should have told you, but you were so excited about it, how could I rip that from you?”
You scoff, “I look like an idiot.”
“A cute idiot.”
Your blush doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone at the table, as Mor pokes her nose in. “I think it’s only fair if next time we come out Azzy and Rhys adhere to the theme.”
Your eyes light up, pointing to Mor, “oh oh oh, I like that idea!”
Rhys turns to cousin, “and why am I involved in this?”
“It only seems fair. You told Feyre that we don’t dress up, so you should have told her as well.”
Azriel butts in, “well Feyre could have told her too.”
Feyre motions her hand over her throat, trying to stop Azriel from speaking further.
“It’s decided then,” Mor says, “the three of you adhere to the theme for next month’s karaoke.”
You pick up your glass and clink it to Mor’s, solidifying the deal. Everyone else is groaning, slumping back in their seats, but this agreement causes Cassian to become invigorated. He’s buzzing with excitement, and at least three shots of vodka, as one of the bartenders walks up to the mic and says, “next up for karaoke - everyone’s favorite - Cassian!”
Cassian gets up, all of you wishing him luck as Mor places a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He prances up to the stage as the scattered applause dies out. The opening notes to Shania Twain’s “Man I Feel Like a Woman” come through the speakers. Cassian lifts his head to the mic to sing, “let’s go, girls”, then turns back around away from the mic. He begins swaying his hips in time with the beat, the leather pants he’s wearing making his ass and his legs look phenomenal. His vest rises a bit as he raises his arms, and you can see the bottom of the tattoo he had gotten during your drunk escapades.
“Are we sure Cassian’s not a stripper?” You ask the table, but Mor shushes you so she can watch the show.
You turn to Azriel, leaning in close to him to whisper, “Do you know how to whistle?”
Your whole body is warm as he leans close to your ear, whispering, “Yes, why?”
You miss the look Rhys gives the two of you, huddled together impossibly close in the large expansive booth.
“I want to whistle, but I don’t know how. Can you do it?”
He obliges your request, rolling his eyes as he wolf whistles at Cassian, who beams at the attention.
You giggle, whispering to Azriel, “his stage name should be 12 inch triple meat.”
You two giggle at the joke before turning your attention back to the stage. Cassian makes it through the first chorus, and he is not receiving his dues. No one is paying any attention to him, and you’re about to ask if there’s anything you guys can do, when Mor grabs your and Feyre’s arms, pulling you out to the little dance floor in front of the stage.
You guys start singing and dancing with him, hips swaying with the music. You guys are singing to each other, smiles plastered on your faces.
You’re lost in the moment when you feel Cassian’s warm hand wrap around your wrist dragging you up on the stage. He has his other hand on Mor, so you quickly grab Feyre’s wrist, all three of you assisting him with the vocals on the “oh, oh, oh”.
It was ridiculous - the four of you on this tiny stage, everyone at Rita’s not caring as you all danced and sang, the three of you providing backing vocals for Cassian.
Three of the most important people in your life singing to Shania Twain.
It was ridiculous. It was everything.
The song ends, and you can hear Rhys and Azriel clapping enthusiastically as the four of you head back to your table.
You slide back into Azriel’s side, his smile making everything inside of you burn for more of it. You spend the rest of the night drinking as Rhys and Cassian regale you all with stories of karaoke nights of the past, the unspoken words hanging between them, but not making their way into the discussion.
The past nights of singing were nowhere near as fun as tonight was.
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neonghostlights · 7 months
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Fuckboy!Werewolf!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Death of family members and parents (readers whole family is dead), Reader wears a nightgown, cussing, I think that might be it. 18+ only for all of my writing. Minors DNI.
Wordcount: 5k
Previous Chapter
You had made it two weeks without running into Eddie Munson again. 
And you used the term “running into” very loosely because it wasn’t like you stumbled into him, he just happened to randomly show up at your job. 
The last time you saw him was when you had had that very awkward chat in the bookshelves and you didn’t really want a repeat of that. You hoped that he had taken the hint and was going to leave you alone for now. 
You were off today. For once. And you really weren’t sure what to do with yourself. 
You hadn’t planned to do anything today, especially not sitting around and thinking about Eddie Munson. 
You had gotten the house clean and everything put away. All of your aunts' things that you weren’t holding onto had been either donated or put into storage for another time. 
You currently stood on your little porch, a hot cup of coffee in hand. The mug you held was obviously well used based on the small cracks in the ceramic and the worn down paint from where it had been used regularly. It was one of the few things you kept of your aunts and it made you feel like a fraud. You didn’t even know her and you were putting your mouth in the same spot she did when she had her morning coffee. 
Your eyes narrowed as you stared over your not-so-freshly-mowed-anymore yard. The whole situation unnerved you but you had the thought that maybe someone in town had stopped by and decided to mow it for you. Maybe it was a neighborly welcome present. Or maybe a lawn care crew had gotten the wrong address and it was a blessing sent from above that your overly paranoid mind couldn’t just let go of.  
You tried to ignore the fact that you didn’t have any neighbors and that you lived far enough away from the town for it to be weird if someone decided to randomly stop by. But it was weird enough to bug you.
And it was a lot of yard to mow too. You had quite a bit of land between the front and the backyards  plus all of the land that followed the drive leading up to the road. 
It really didn’t make sense. 
It felt like you were a few chapters into a mystery novel. Whether you were the victim or the detective was still to be discovered. 
You sipped your coffee suspiciously, your bathrobe pulled tight to hide the nightgown you thought made yourself more sophisticated. It didn’t. You just looked like a grandma but you still liked it anyway. 
Mornings like these reminded you of the days you would sit out on the porch with your grandparents while they enjoyed their morning cigarettes. Although you still weren’t smoking, it was a nice reminder either way. 
You gathered your cup, ready to head inside when you thought you heard a rustling at the side of the trailer. You leaned over the railing, keeping in mind the way it wiggled against your weight like it would give out at any minute. It was probably so old and rotted that any more pressure on it would cause that whole side of the porch railing to fall off completely. 
You had come to learn since you moved in here that there were a lot of things that your aunt hadn’t taken care of while she lived here. You didn’t want to assume that she was lazy by any means. You weren’t really sure of her mental or physical state and it may have been hard for her to keep up with. 
You knew she was young when she left your grandparents house at just freshly nineteen years old. You didn’t know all of the details but you had been trying to jog your memories to try to remember any passing mentions of her from growing up. 
From what you could tell her departure was sudden and it ripped a hole in your grandparents hearts. She never came back to visit but she did send letters every once in a while that you never managed to get your hands on. After their deaths, you tried to find them but you assumed they were tossed out or lost somewhere as your grandparents aged. 
Sometimes it felt like you were cursed since you had lost all of your family so young. All of the people who helped raise you had all departed the earth as soon as you hit adulthood. You wished your aunt was still around and that you knew where to find her sooner. Maybe it would have been nice to build a relationship with someone. You didn’t have many friends back in your hometown, no one to put up a fight or worry about you when you packed up and left. 
Maybe it would be nice to actually have a family. 
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The little bell dinged over the doors as you stepped inside the small general store. 
You weren’t here for many things, mainly just to check out their selection of tools and such to help with fixing your porch railing, the hole in the living room wall, and the leaky bathroom sink. Those were just the things you could list off the top of your head today. You were sure there were more underlying issues that you would discover before the end of this week. 
It was like the newness of the trailer had worn off for you and with your aunt's things out it was blatantly obvious that you had bit off a lot more than you could chew. 
It was later in the day than you would like to have made it out to town. You had gotten a little sidetracked earlier and one chapter of the new book you picked up earlier that week turned into six. 
“Welcome! If you need help finding anything then let me know!” A short woman with dark hair called out from behind some cans that she was strategically trying to stack into a pyramid. 
She dropped one while she was waving her hand at you and it hit the tiled floor with a smack before rolling to your feet. You crouched down to pick it up and walked it over to her with a sympathetic smile. 
She took it from you, with a thank you before wincing at the dented side. She put the can in the middle of the soup pyramid, surrounded by other cans to hide the dent. 
“I was actually looking for some stuff. I was wondering if you could tell me if you have some hammers, nails or just normal stuff to fix up a crappy trailer?” You inquired with a shrug, holding the crumpled notebook paper with your shopping list sloppily jotted down on it. 
“Well,” the lady started in an apologetic voice. “I’m afraid we don’t have much of any of that here anymore since the hardware store got a well deserved upgrade a few streets over. My son actually works there and he should be able to help you. It’s tucked next to a bakery and a park so it shouldn’t be too hard to miss if you’re looking for it.” 
“Thank you, Joyce,” you said with a smile as you read her name tag quickly. 
“You’re welcome. I actually haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new in town?” She asked as she stacked another can. 
You nodded quickly and told her your name. “I actually took over my aunt's place right on the outskirts of town after she passed. I’ve been here for maybe a month and a half.” 
Joyce’s expression changed some into something like surprise then to an understanding nod that all mothers seem to possess. 
When she didn’t say anymore you cleared your throat and started to back away. Maybe she knew your aunt and didn’t like her. Or maybe this conversation had run its course. 
“Thanks for the help,” you said awkwardly as you started to push the door open. 
Joyce called your name, a small smile on her lips as she waved at you. 
“Welcome to Hawkins! I think you might really like it here!” 
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It wasn’t hard to find the hardware store and you were surprised you hadn’t noticed it sooner since it was practically down the street from the bookstore. 
It was hard learning your way around a  new town, no matter how small it was. 
The hardware store smelt like paint and wood which wasn’t necessarily a bad smell. You took a deep inhale before grabbing a cart and making your way through the aisles. 
You heard your name being called behind you and you turned in surprise. It wasn’t often that people around here knew your name or spoke to you first. 
A tall guy with straight brown hair that hung over his eyebrows  jogged up to you from the end of the aisle. He wore a blue t-shirt with a red apron tied around his waist. 
“I’m Jonathan,” he announced as he reached you. “My, uh, mom told me you were coming this way and told me you had a list?” He said as more of a question than a statement. 
“I know,” he said with a shy smile as you told him your name. He scanned the paper you handed him. “This way,” he said with a wave and you scurried with the cart to keep up with him. 
“What are you working on?” He asked as he started to go around the aisles and load things into your cart. You made a mental note to look at each price so you could keep an estimate on the total in your head. As of right now, it would be a little expensive but you thought you could do it. 
“I’m not really sure. There’s just a lot of stuff around my place that needs to be fixed up and I feel like I find more and more things broken everyday. I’m assuming you know a lot about how to fix stuff right?” You asked, hoping he could give you some pointers as he led you to the check out with a full cart. 
Jonathan's nose and cheeks turned a little pink and he looked shyly down at the hammer he was holding as he typed in the price. 
“Actually, no. I’m just here to save up for some new photography equipment so I can start my own business. It was the only place in town that was hiring when I needed a job. So..” He trailed off with a little shake of his head. 
“Photography’s cool,” you said as you stared at the price go up on the little screen behind the cash register. You felt your jaw tense and your teeth grind at the number on the screen. 
You must have done the math in your head wrong. 
Jonathan nodded absentmindedly as he scanned the last item. You watched as he wrote down the total on a scrap piece of paper and then typed in a bunch of random numbers on the cash register, making the number drop drastically. 
“Wait, why did it go down?” You gasped in disbelief. 
“It’s a welcome to Hawkins discount. All new people get it,” he said without looking at you. 
“You give all new people in town a fifty percent discount?” You questioned. 
He just shrugged and refused to look at you again. 
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It was dark now that you were finally heading home. 
After the hardware store, Jonathan loaded up all the things in your car for you and sent you on your way. 
To finish off your trip into town, you decided to stop by the deli and get yourself a sandwich which you sat outside to eat since the weather was nice. 
You watched as the cars drove up and down the street, going about their days. Every so often, someone would stick their hand out their car windows to wave at you when they caught you staring. You would cheekily wave back with a smile. 
It was nice to be somewhere that wasn’t work or home. It was nice to see people outside of the bookstore. It was nice to have people actually see you. 
When the sun started to dip below the horizon you picked up your trash and made your way back to your car. 
You hummed all the way down the road to whatever song was on the radio. Bopping your head along to the upbeat chorus and vocals to the next pop hit of the year. 
You were so close to home, finally on the curvy and wooded road that led to your driveway. The sun was gone completely now and you could see the moon hanging proudly in the cloudless sky.
You were in the middle of singing along to the bridge when you felt the pop underneath your feet. 
And then the car started to shake and rumble. 
“No, no, no,” you whined as you pulled the car to the side of the road. 
You smacked the steering wheel a few times with the palms of your hands once the car reached a complete stop. It felt lopsided, the telltale sign that there was a flat somewhere. 
You glanced in your rearview mirror to see nothing but your flashers lighting up the complete darkness behind you rhythmically before throwing open your door and stepping out. 
The tire was completely flat. 
You leaned down, examining it just to see a big slash cutting through it. You must have hit something sharp when you were leaving town. 
Whatever you had run over must have been big enough to do some serious damage. You wondered how you missed it but blamed it on the fact that you were just having a full on concert by yourself. 
You groaned and looked up and down the road in hopes of seeing some headlights. 
This road wasn’t busy by any means. It was rare to see someone else passing through when you were on the way to and from work.
You were gonna be stuck here for a while. 
You grabbed the car door again, ready to throw yourself in when you heard something coming from the woods. 
It was soft at first, barely noticeable. You strained, trying to make sure your mind wasn’t  playing tricks on you like it was known to do sometimes. 
It was a cascade of whispers, all talking over each other. Men and women. Young and old. All talking in the woods like there was some sort of large gathering. 
You wondered if maybe the woods weren’t as thick as you thought and there were actually some houses. Perhaps you could go to one and find a phone to use. 
You found your feet moving away from the car without even closing the door. You couldn’t stop yourself as you kept walking across the road without looking either way to check for any oncoming cars.
The whispers got louder the second you broke through the brush. You weren’t sure where you were going, but you knew if you followed the voices you would be okay. They would lead you to safety. 
It was warm in the woods, like you had been wrapped by a comfortable blanket. You felt safe. How could you ever feel scared out here? 
You passed a thick tree, probably the tallest you had seen in the forest so far. You weren’t sure how long you had been walking at this point. It didn’t matter as long as you were still walking towards the voices. They would take care of you. 
The whispers got louder, reaching a deafening level. It felt like the volume in your ears got turned up to one hundred. \
You had no clue what they were saying but you didn’t care. You wanted to keep listening to them for as long as you could. You thought that you might just follow those voices anywhere that they wanted to leave you. 
And then they stopped. 
It was an abrupt silence, like the pause after a candle's flame gets blown out. 
Your ears rang and the cold air kissed your skin. Goosebumps broke out up and down your arms when you realized that you were standing in the middle of the woods. 
Alone. 
And something had led you here. 
The bushes starated  rustling in front of you, a thick section of trees and bushes moving like something was trying to break free. It was an ominous feeling that started in your gut, the feeling that whatever was moving in those bushes was pure terror. 
And it was coming for you. 
You didn’t have time to react before the wolf jumped in front of you. 
It backed against you, pushing you away from the spot in the woods that seemed darker than the rest of the forest. 
It growled a deep growl, baring its teeth in anger towards the unknown threat. The hair on the back of your neck stood on its end at the menacing sound.
You wanted to cover your ears and hide. 
You backed away, back hitting a tree as you coward from the sight in front of you. 
The wolf lunged, snapping its large jaws into the bushes. You hid your face, not wanting to see what it was up against. 
You waited for it to turn to you and realize you were there. You waited for those jaws to start snapping at you too. 
But that never happened. 
The bushes stopped rustling and there was a stillness in the air. The chill didn’t lift off your skin, it was dragged off like it didn’t want to leave. 
You didn’t realize the crickets had stopped chirping until they started singing again. 
Whatever threat lurked in the bushes was gone. You could feel the disappearance of its heavy presence lift off your mind. Air moving in out of your lungs was easier than before and you gasped a few times as your lungs begged for the oxygen it had been deprived of. 
Footsteps running through the forest behind you had you yelping and wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. Like you would be able to protect yourself with your bare hands from the monster of a wolf in front of you and whatever unseen force that had just lured you out here with its evil mind tricks. 
A group of men came breaking through the trees with wild and concerned looks on their faces. All of the eyes landed on you, including the wolves,  and you didn’t like the attention. 
You felt your eyes practically bulge out of your head when you recognized Jonathan Byers. 
Why the hell would they be out in the woods at this time of night too? 
“Jonathan?” You called out, making sure your eyes didn’t deceive you. 
The wolf let out a low warning growl that had you leaning away from it, practically crawling into the tree's bark.  
You hadn’t realized how close the wolf had gotten to you since the last time you looked at it. You could practically feel the heat coming off of its fur in waves. The wolf stood between you and the men, like it was shielding you from their eyes. 
Like it didn’t want them to look at you. 
“Please don’t bite me,” you whispered to the wolf when his eyes landed on you again. 
One of the strangers didn’t hold back his snort. 
“Trust me. I think he really wants to bite you-ow,” he whined when an elbow landed in his ribs.
“Shut up, Gareth,” said one with styled brown hair. 
“It’s true!” Gareth exclaimed, pointing between you and the wolf. 
“What the hell is going on?” You snapped, wincing when the wolf looked at you. 
It was ginormous and it was safe to assume that it was the very same wolf you had seen weeks ago. It was even bigger this up close and you had to strain your neck to look up at it. 
“Nice doggy,” you cooed, trying to get on its good side. 
This time all of the men laughed and you couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing. 
“Don’t laugh at me,” you bit out. 
The wolf growled again, stepping forward at the men as he did so. None of them flinched or looked afraid though.
They just looked like a group that had been scolded. 
“Sorry,” Jonathan apologized. 
“Maybe you should-uh-change,” one of the guys said to the wolf like he could really understand what he was saying. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. He tossed a thick blanket at the wolf, which he caught between his massive teeth with a snap of his jaw. You hadn’t even realized he was hiding something behind his back. 
It really wasn’t safe for you to be out here. 
The wolf stared at them blankly with the blanket hanging out of his mouth like a limp tongue. 
“We’ll watch out for her,” Jonathan offered.
This seemed to make the wolf kind of happy because he squinted his eyes, like he was sending them a threat with just a look, before nodding his head once and sulking between the trees where you couldn’t see him any more. 
“Does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” You demanded, stepping away from your little safe spot beside the tree. 
But none of them listened because they were all talking to each other. 
“Maybe he should just tell her.” 
“Tell her?! He just showed her.” 
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know.”
“She’s not stupid!” 
“We don’t know that.” 
“She has ears and is standing right here!” You yelled, shutting them up. They all turned to look at you in unison, eyes wide. 
“I’m Jeff.” The one that had been holding the blanket said as he stepped forward. “That one that called you stupid is Gareth, over there is Steve and I think you’ve met Jonathan.”
“Does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on? Why the hell am I out here in the middle of the woods? Why the hell are all of you out here in the woods?” 
“Listen, you just need to stay-“
A twig snapped behind you and you jumped forward towards the guys and away from whatever was sneaking up behind you. 
“Relax,” you heard Eddie say behind you. You hated that you were able to recognize his voice.
You whipped your head around meeting his wide eyed stare. He was naked. Completely. Only wrapped in the blanket that had once been in the wolf's mouth. 
It looked bigger around Eddie. The wolf had been so massive that it has made the blanket look like a bath towel. 
“Eddie?” You asked, although you could clearly see it was him.
He nodded, keeping the blanket snug around his waist as he walked towards you. 
You took a step back. 
“Listen,” he started, voice raspy like his throat had been strained. You imagined that's the way his voice would sound after singing front row at a concert, or maybe even after a screaming match over something he felt passionate about. “I can explain everything to you. But I need to get you out of the woods first.” 
He had tattoos. A few scattered on his arms and chest. You couldn’t see them clearly in the darkness and you found your eyes bouncing between them. 
He held out a hand that wasn’t holding the blanket to his body. It slipped down his hips a little, giving you a peak of his lower abdomen and the little trail of hair there. Your eyes traced the line of hair before you looked back at his face. 
If he asked you if you were checking him out you would deny it and say you saw a spider crawling on him or something. 
But to your surprise he didn’t ask. Nothing about him seemed smug. Instead his face was twisted into a grim notion of worry that made you worry as well. 
“Why are you naked?”  You asked instead of taking his hand. 
“I told you I would tell you but we need to go,” he urged, rushing his words out as he took another step towards you, reaching for your hand. 
You jerked your hands back, not letting him touch you. 
“No,” you said firmly. “I”m getting out of this forest but I’m not going with you anywhere.” 
Eddie sighed, gripping the blanket tightly with one hand and using the other to run through his hair. 
“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth, looking behind his back. 
Maybe now wasn’t the time to be stubborn. 
You spun on your heels, marching in a direction that felt right. 
“This way,” Eddie said as he put an arm around you to spin you around. 
You didn’t argue this time or claw away from his touch. Your skin burned from the way his bare arm wrapped against yours. You just wanted to get out away from whatever was in these woods and needed to put aside your dislike of Eddie so you could make it out in one piece. 
If the wolf or whatever that evil thing was came back all you would need to do to survive was run faster than Eddie. 
You marched through the woods, not as gracefully as Eddie strolled through like he owned the place. He was leading the group with you at his side. The rest of the guys flanked behind you, protecting your backs. 
At least that was the way it felt. 
“Did you see the wolf?” You finally asked, breaking the silence that had only been filled with the crunch of leaves, sticks and the occasional times you slipped a curse word out when you tripped and Eddie had to hold onto you to keep you back up. 
You really weren’t made to walk in the woods. Especially not with the shoes you were wearing. 
You saw Eddie nod slightly out of the corner of your eye. 
“Oh come on! You’re telling me you haven’t put two and two together yet?!” Gareth exclaimed from behind you in disbelief. 
You skidded to a stop. 
You had to admit. Your mind had been reeling with theories since you had seen Eddie walk out of the bushes naked. 
The wolf was gone and Eddie appeared.
 Naked. 
But things like that didn’t exist. Boys that wore too much leather and broke girls' hearts were just bad people. Not werewolves that went into the woods to rescue you when an unknown force led you there against your will. 
“Prove it,” you demanded, looking Eddie right in the eye. 
He didn’t question what you were asking for. He didn’t even look confused. He just stared right back with such an intensity, like he was reading your soul. 
“Didn’t the wolf look familiar?” He asked as he leaned closer to you. “Didn’t I look familiar?” 
You wracked your brain, trying to think of what he could possibly be talking about. 
And then it hit you. 
You gasped and he nodded slowly, already understanding your thought process. 
The wolf in the middle of the road. 
How could Eddie know about that? 
He couldn’t.
 Unless he was there. 
“I almost hit you!” You yelled at him. 
He didn’t even flinch or look angry. He just looked down at you, a dopey smile spreading across his face. Like he thought that your anger was the most charming thing he had ever seen. 
He wasn’t taking this seriously at all. He didn’t take you seriously. 
You didn’t care if Eddie was a damn wolf. You didn’t care if he paraded around the woods naked in his freetime. 
What you did care about was him being reckless and involving you in his shit when you were just trying to get by. 
“What is wrong with you?” 
“A lot. I told you,” Eddie said as he gripped your arm, leading you towards the break in the trees. “I can answer your questions when I get you out of these damn woods.” 
Your car was immediately to your left when you broke through the trees. The driver's side door was still open from where you had abandoned it. 
The flashers you had left on were no longer blinking. 
You had to shimmy out of Eddie's grasp but he still hovered around you. He made a point to position you so his body was the one that was closest to the road. 
You didn’t feel like arguing with him. You also didn’t understand why he insisted on being so near you. 
The rest of the guys here gave you distance, almost like they were afraid to get too close. 
“My tire is flat,” you mumbled to no one in particular. “That’s why I stopped in the first place.”
Steve let out a low whistle as he crouched to inspect your tire. 
“Yeah I would say it’s flat,” he mumbled. 
You saw Eddie’s jaw clenched out the corner of your eye but you ignored him. 
“Do you have a spare?” Eddie asked, already reaching for the trunk. 
“I’m pretty sure. I haven’t really looked since I got the car,” you admitted. “I think the battery is dead too because I had left the lights on when I got out. I don’t understand how it could have died so quickly. I was only gone for a few minutes.” 
You saw Eddie shake his head. “It wasn’t a few minutes.” 
You didn’t have time to question what he meant before he started to bark orders at the others. 
“Steve and Jeff, patrol the woods and make sure our friend doesn’t pop back up. Jonathan, go get your car so I can get her home. Gareth, I’m gonna keep an eye on her while you change the tire.”
 “Why the hell do I have to change the tire? She’s your mate.”
Your head snapped to Eddie, the words clicking together in your head like a puzzle. 
“Your what?”
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ineffable-endearments · 5 months
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Crowley and His Plants in Season 2
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I've got this complicated post about Aziraphale and the bookshop brewing, but I want to give Crowley and his plants their own post.
It's really important that Crowley hung onto his plants for juicy characterization and symbolic and thematic reasons. It's a major character development portrayed with relative subtlety, an excellent example of Showing, Not Telling, and I think it's a thrilling sign for Crowley's character development.
Before having a chance to think about it, I thought keeping the plants in his car was a funny and odd - but sweet - detail to include. In fact, it was so sweet that it was one of those "felt like fanfic" things!
In Season 1, and in the novel, the plants were very much there for trauma reenactment, for Crowley to vent his hurt and fear and anger and betrayal onto. In a sense, they seemed to be Crowley's way of roleplaying with himself, if we assume they were only sentient because Crowley thought of them that way. Through the dynamic of yelling at his plants, which he assumed could understand him, Crowley could emotionally act out both the terrified, powerless plant (subconsciously) and the big scary entity threatening it with destruction (consciously).
If we take everything at face value, we can also guess that Crowley disposed of plants that he no longer liked because of their imperfections, which would seem to imply he didn't have much of an attachment to them. Where they went doesn't matter that much to this particular line of theorizing. He could have given them to his elderly neighbor, he could have plunked them in a community garden, he could have left them on a doorstep, he could have shredded them in the garbage disposal. In any case, they were gone from his kingdom.
And after Season 1, I wondered if he would care to keep the plants if he wasn't using them to act out trauma anymore.
But in Season 2, the plants are in fact the ONLY thing from the flat that Crowley has hung onto as he moved into his car. Sure, it's possible that he has other possessions squirreled away somewhere and he just carries the plants around because they need sunlight, but most of the other possessions go unmentioned, so we have to guess that the plants are specifically important. They're also important enough to follow him into the bookshop and back to the car instead of just staying in the car for the trip to Edinburgh.
We also don't see a single instance of Crowley berating the plants in Season 2, but they do still express his emotions somewhat (shaking when he's afraid). He still has whatever subconscious connection to them he was experiencing before. Notably, there's at least one scene where a brown spot is visible on a plant, so whatever Crowley's doing, he's not getting rid of the plants like he used to.
This seems like an obvious example of Crowley's attachment to Earth condensed into a handy symbol. Crowley has started to admit to himself that he cares about these helpless living things, that he just likes them for their own sake. They're not a sign of a job well done for Hell. They're not a memory of Aziraphale. They're not a tool to make life easier or numb the pain. They're just Life On Earth and Crowley likes to have them.
Crowley has gone from using his plants as a tool for trauma reenactment to holding onto his plants because he has a genuine attachment to them. And, for a character whose arc I believe is going to involve forming more outward connections to others, that's a big deal.
Crowley's still got a ways to go. He's carrying these plants around, but the Bentley can't be an ideal environment for them. The whole process of driving them around, not to mention bringing them in and out of the bookshop, has to be kind of awkward for Crowley, too. It's very reminiscent of a character whose attachment to Earth is ambivalent, but who is moving in the right direction.
I wonder what'll happen next. His progress could be relatively linear, wherein he just goes off and forms more connections to humans on Earth after Aziraphale goes back to Heaven.
My suspicion, though, is that he will return to Hell with the specific goal in mind of thwarting the Second Coming and possibly trying to bring the entire system crashing down. In this way, Crowley experiences a massive setback in his position (he wants to be on Earth, not in Hell!) but is actually demonstrating a redoubled dedication to Earth and humans, so what he's doing is not backsliding. Compare it to Season 1, when Crowley is charged with delivering the Antichrist and complains, as late as the Antichrist's 11th birthday, that he didn't want to be involved, that Hell shouldn't have chosen him - when Hell choosing Crowley was the only reason he was ever in a position to try to thwart Armageddon.
But that's a lot of speculation. The point is, the plants are a meaningful connection to Earth and Crowley is taking care of them.
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